As the lines between good and evil were blurred and new, unlikely alliances were formed, there were very few things keeping Carson Bradley sane. But sometimes, even sanity was not enough to win a war when there was already so much blood raining down...
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CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR THE REAL LIFE HORROR STORY
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"I told you he was evil!" Stiles exclaimed for the millionth time.
"Yes, you thought he was evil. You were right, we get it," Scott muttered from the passenger seat.
The three of us had just left Lydia's party, easily slipping away from the police which was good. Having a restraining order was the only thing I'd like to have on my record, than you very much. I was in the back seat, my head stationed between the boys' as my mind tried to wrap its way around the revelation we just endured.
Matt Daehler was the kanima master. Matt freaking Daehler, the creep with the camera who was stalking Allison was the goddamn kanima master. I seriously did not see that one coming at all. He was literally the last person I would ever think to want anyone dead. Well, besides Scott for obvious Allison-related reasons.
But alas, he was the master and he was one the one going around trying to kill people. He was responsible for the murders of everyone, including Mr. Lahey, the girl from the rave, the mechanic, and those people in the woods. He was the one getting Jackson to do all of it.
We had no freaking clue why he would want any of them dead, or why he was even connected to the swim team in any way. Those people had graduated long before we even started high school. There was no motive linked to Matt at all, and none of us could figure one out. I mean, sure, the swim team sucked but was that a reason to want them dead?
On top of being a deranged killer with no motive, Matt also appeared to have mastered the element of vanishing within seconds. One second he was on the crowded street, with Jackson's creepy ass tail wrapped around his legs. Then a crowd had hurried past in front of them. And like any cheap horror movie, once the crowd passed, Matt and the kanima were gone.
So now we were sat in the jeep, heading towards Stiles' house. He said something about telling his dad. I had no clue how he planned to explain Matt being the killer without divulging the werewolf secret. But I guess we'll just have to see how that pans out. Right now, however, Stiles was pretty hell bent on rubbing his theories in our faces, having yelled about Matt being evil for the past five minutes.
"You two didn't believe me and look who ended up being right," Stiles chuckled to himself. "Oh yeah, Stiles. Scott, I told you that you should listen to me for the rest of your wolflihood."
"Yeah, you also told me not to hit you while you were driving but that doesn't mean I'm not tempted to do it," I called from the back.
"My girlfriend's abusive," he muttered.
"Last time I checked you were okay with that," Scott chuckled. "Didn't you tell me once about some dream that involved her and a wh—"
"Scott! Dude, shut up!" Stiles screeched girlishly. In the moonlight, I could see his cheeks burning a very vibrant red.
