Wild Ones - Teen Wolf fan fic

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Processing was relatively quick and painless. Finger prints, full pat down, metal detector, the works. Forty five minutes later, I sat on a cot in my own four by six cell. I hadn't seen Officer Marks since he uncuffed me for my finger prints. I hated hurting him, but it was a necessary mean to my ends. I stared at my hands as the incident at the house replayed behind my eyes.

The vile look of intrigue on Mal's face as she waited for me to spill my guts, when I was so ready to spill hers. The audible crunch that was Brent's arm snapping under pressure. The look of pure horror written all over Elle's face as she looked on, helpless. The pleasure that rippled up my spine when I felt the heat permeate my skin. I had become a monster. And I had enjoyed it. Even then, sitting in my cell, I felt a thrill in the deepest part of me, the darkest part of me. It felt like my body was playing host to two entities. One being the old me: fearful, constrained, weak. The other being the monster: cold, wild, strong. I ran my hands through my hair in agony as I felt my two selves fighting for control. I felt no shame, but I felt disgusted with myself. I felt guilt, but not for the right reasons. The monstrous, predatory side of me felt guilt for not simply ending Mal when I had the chance. It would have been so easy. So quick. A flick of a wrist and it would have been over.

A loud clanging pulled me from my turmoil. Looking up, I watched silently as a female officer approached pushing a raggedy, obviously drunk woman ahead of her. The woman wore baggy Levi's and a flannel shirt, her hair was down and scraggly and she reeked of whiskey, cigarettes, and sweat. She mumbled incoherently under her breath as the officer stopped at the door to my cell and unlocked it. I felt myself tense, but said nothing, gripping the edge of the bed and wrinkling my nose against my new cellmates stench. The officer uncuffed the woman and unceremoniously pushed her into the cell, never uttering a word before slamming the door shut. The drunk looked around the cell as if just realizing where she was.

"What in the hell? Jail? God damn it! I want my phone call! Hello?! Damn you, answer me! I get one phone call! Hey! HEY!" The woman began banging on the bars and throwing herself against the door. I rolled my eyes and slid back on my cot until my back was against the wall. The woman's antics were raising her pulse, which in turn was raising my prey drive. I growled low in my throat, my gums beginning to ache.

"Your screaming isn't accomplishing anything even seemingly useful. Pipe down." I snapped, glaring at the bars of our cage in contempt. Slowly the drunk turned and faced me. She studied me for a few moments before chuckling.

"And why should I, a grown ass woman, listen to a prissy little thing like you? Hmmmm? What'd you do to end up in 'Hell's Hall' anyway? Steal a pack of cigs off old man Wiley?" At that, she burst out laughing, losing her balance and stumbling against the cell door. I had no idea what she was talking about. I didn't care. The second phase of my plan was about to take flight. Slowly I stood. I stalked toward her, slowly so as not to spook her.

"Actually, I assaulted two people and killed another. Perhaps you knew him. Robert Thomas?" I spoke slowly to ensure each word would sink in through her drunken haze. It took a few moments but when it did, her eyes looked as though they would pop out of her head. But just as quickly they turned suspicious. She raised a brow and straightened up. "Robert Thomas? I'm supposed to believe, you took down Robert? What do you weigh? Maybe one hundred pounds dripping wet? Please. If you're gunna lie to me, at least make it believable. Jesus."

I let the heat take me as she spoke, her words simply feeding the flames that lapped at my insides. I felt my fangs poking against my tongue. Suddenly her face went completely white, her eyes dilating in fear.

"You... Your eyes... You're not... You're not human!" She sputtered, flattening herself against the bars to put as much space between us as possible. I smiled, baring my teeth at her. She whimpered in her throat as she slowly slid down the bars to make herself smaller.

"Is this more believable for you?" I growled. I grasped the front of her flannel shirt and hauled her to her feet as though she weighed nothing. She clasped at my hands in an attempted to loosen my grip, but it was useless. She'd been a goner since she stepped foot in my cell. We both knew it. The vein in her forehead pulsed against the skin as her heart raced in panic.

"Don't worry. I'll be quick. This isn't about you. It's about me." With that I wrenched her head hard to one side, snapping her neck. Her body went slack, but I wasn't done. I pulled her hair over her shoulder and buried my teeth deep into her throat. Her heart still beat, having not caught up to her dead brain. The urge to simply feed was strong, but I had a reputation to build. Keeping my teeth firmly planted in her neck, I then wrenched my head back, tearing her throat out. I spit the flesh out and threw her limp body to the floor and stood watching as crimson stained the gray cement. I went back to my spot on my cot and daintily crossed my legs, grinning from ear to ear, blood still dripping from my chin. And I waited. The first shouts of alarm came eight minutes later. I would be out of the cell by the first light of dawn. I smiled and waited.