We Come From The South » Isaac Lahey [2] ✓

strife

The zapping lines of Allison's tasor was instantly snatched into Stiles' deadly hands. He stretched it beyond its intended means and sent it clattering to the floor. Derek growled and extended his razor sharp fangs. He lurched forwards but was instantly blocked by Stiles' arm. He latched onto Dereks shoulder and used his other hand to ram his head forwards into a nearby table. He twisted around and threw Derek into one of the wooden pillars, his back colliding harshly with the edges. Adrianna winced, feeling the swelling of his bruise along her own spine.

Chris' gun was in his hand and the safety removed in all of three seconds. A lethal silence suffocated the wide space. 

Stiles looked up from Derek's collapsed form, slowly turning his conniving eyes to the gun just millimeters from his temple. He swivelled his full body around, eyeing the barrel head on with a smirk ghosting his pale lips.

"Argent, listen to me. Don't do this." The Sherriff pleaded, stepping forwards into Chris' line of view.

"Why not? I've done it before. Werewolves, berserkers. I can easily add a nogistune to the list."

Stilinski cocked his gun at Chris's head almost instantly. "You're not going to shoot my son."

"You said it yourself Sherriff, that's not your son."

Stiles glanced between them, the smile on his lips expanding as the light in his eyes began to dance with the chaotic adrenaline of the growing tension.

"Put it down." Stilinski warned.

Chris tightened his grip.

"Put it down."

Stiles expression abruptly changed as his eyes and body language cornered in on his father. His bottom lip began to quiver, his pupils grew wide, his shoulders hunched and slouched. "Dad," Stilinski turned to his son, his eyes fragile. "He's going to shoot me. He's going to kill me Dad."

"Don't listen to him." Chris reminded.

Stilinski looked back to Chris, his voice becoming more stressed, "Put it down. Now! Do it! Put it down!" 

Stiles slowly turned his head to Chris, that mischievous expression converting his face once more. "Pull the trigger. Come on."

"Listen to me! You put the gun down now!"

"Shoot me"

"Put the gun down now!"

"Dad." Allison interjected.

"Put the gun down now!"

"SHOOT ME!"

"Argent you put it down now!"

"SHOOT ME!"

Allison and Adrianna locked desperate eyes, the yelling of the two men crowding the room and striking those nervous warning chords in their heads. "Strife." Allison whispered. The loft suddenly collapsed into semi-darkness, the shadows once formed in the sunsets fading light disappeared and were replaced with the white glow of the moon. The girls looked to the enormous window that covered the south wall of the loft, where between the light gray of the clouds, the blurred home of the moon lay. 

Allison snapped her head to the yelling parents, "Stop! Stop it! This is what he wants. This is exactly what he wants!" She frantically yelled. 

"Not exactly." Stiles answered, his voice completely and utterly calm and soft. Chris and Stilinski instantly fell silent. "I was kind of hoping Scott would be here. But I'm glad you all have your guns out because you're not here to kill me," He turned around in perfect time for four Oni to materalise from the darkness out of the reach of the moons light. "You're here to protect me." He slowly stepped back behind Chris and Stilinski. The pair didn't hesitate to began firing at the approaching Oni. Allison and Derek turned their bodies and barricaded on the other side of Stiles.