The Absence of Truth | S. Stilinski

XXII. | ravenous

XXII. | ravenous

                    WE MADE IT back to the party soon after, called into action by a text from Isaac to Stiles. We wandered around the sidelines of the dance floor, searching for the secluded room where Isaac and Erica had Jackson stowed. More than once on our journey, I got swooped into the drunken arms of a boy, being forced to spin in a circle or dance until Stiles was able to jerk me back to his side. This happened until we made it to a private concrete room, separated and far away from stray partygoers and the crowd.

Once inside the room, I looked at the unconscious body of Jackson as he laid sprawled in a fold up chair. "Is he okay?" I asked, not putting it passed Isaac or Erica to do him any bodily harm. They both scoffed behind me.

Isaac was the one that answered, walking over to Jackson, being sure not to get too close to me. That made me relax a little. Ever since the teams joined one another, Isaac had stopped trying to touch me. He flicked his hand open and revealed his claws, which he then tried to touch Jackson with. "Let's find out," he said.

Acting on what seemed like instinct, Jackson's hand flew up to block Isaac's. His eyes were still closed and he breathed as if he were asleep. He twisted Isaac's hand and wrist until I heard it pop, then dropped it and went back to his comatose state. Isaac skittered away from him in pain.

Taking charge, Stiles said, "Okay, no one does anything like that again, okay?"

"I thought the ketamine was supposed to put him out," Isaac groaned, holding his injured wrist. I swallowed my pride and held out my hand to get a better look at it. He placed his wrist in my palm and let me examine it.

Stiles was already talking again, gesturing at Jackson. "Yeah, well, apparently this is all we're gonna get. So let's just hope that whoever's controlling him decided to show up tonight."

I dropped Isaac's wrist when I realized it wasn't broken. "You'll be fine," I said under my breath. Then I turned and got a better look at Jackson. "You all used ketamine to knock him out? Like the stuff they use at the vet?"

"Deaton gave it to us," Stiles explained.

I opened my mouth to ask if there was any left, but Jackson's eyes popped open. He twitched and his eyes flickered around the room. He was still asleep, but still being controlled. A morphed version of his voice came out of his mouth. "I'm here," he said chillingly, "I'm right here with you."

"Jackson," Stile prodded, squatting down so he was closer to the boy. "Is that you?"

"Us," was the reply. "We're all here."

I shivered involuntarily. Erica seemed freaked out too, shuffling closer to me. I leaned forward and yanked on the back of Stiles's hoodie when I thought he was too close to Jackson. "Are you the one killing people?" I asked while Stiles situated himself closer to my feet.

Jackson's mouth opened, and that disembodied voice came out. "We're the ones killing murderers," he said.

"So all the people you've killed so far..." Stiles prodded.

"Deserved it," Jackson finished for him.

Erica and Isaac leaned closer to Stiles and me when the next question came. "See, we have this little rule book," Stiles said, referencing the bestiary. "It says you only go after murderers." He was trying to understand why the kanima had attempted to hurt others.

Jackson fell into the trap. "Anything can break if enough pressure is applied," he said.

"Alright, so the people you are killing are all murderers, then." Stiles wasn't framing anything as a question. It all came out in one, monotonous lull, all ending as statements.