Scott stared at his boss, who continued speaking as though there wasn't a mutilated dead body in the room. "They're coming back," Deaton told him, "so we don't have much time to talk."
"What is that?" Scott eyed something Deaton was taking off of the shelf warily.
"Rubbing alcohol. You don't want it to get infected, do you?" questioned Deaton, and Scott shook his head. This is so weird.
"It'll heal the same," Deaton informed him, "just not as quickly, because of Derek."
"Okay, how do you know all this?" Scott demanded. "Actually, how do you know anything?"
"It's a long story," sighed Deaton. "What I can tell you, is that I know about your kind. Your kind, I can help. This - this is something different." They both glanced over to the body once more, and Scott studied it more closely, much as it pained him.
Whatever had killed this creature had dug its claws in deep, both hands - paws - whatever, and raked them all the way down his chest. There was no way the human could've survived, Scott thought, feeling sorry for the man.
"Do you know what did it?" Scott asked.
"No," Deaton informed him. "But the Argents will. And this is the crucial part - they'll have some kind of record, or book, it'll have histories, notations, of all the things they've discovered."
"All the things?" Scott stared at Deaton. "How many different things are there?"
Before Deaton could respond, there was the sound of vans pulling up outside. Scott quickly hid, and Deaton returned to examining the body on the table. As the hunters walked in, led by Argent - Scott would know those footsteps anywhere - Deaton calmly commented, "I'm starting to think I need to buy a more prominent 'Closed' sign."
"Hello, Alan," Gerard's voice rang out. "It's been a while. Last I heard, you had retired."
"Last I heard, you followed a code of conduct," Deaton responded.
"In case you hadn't noticed, this body is one of ours," Argent informed Deaton.
"I did," retorted Deaton. "I also noticed the gunpowder residue on his fingertips. So don't assume I'll be swayed by your philosophy just because I'll answer a few questions."
"He was only twenty-four," Argent snapped.
"Killers come in all ages," Deaton held his ground.
"All ages, sizes, and shapes," Gerard cut in. "It's the last one that concerns us."
"How about you tell us what you found?" asked Argent, and there was the sound of footsteps moving closer to the body.
"See this cut?" Deaton reported; there was a slight cracking noise as he turned the dead man's head. "It's precise, almost surgical. But this isn't the wound that killed him. This had a more...interesting purpose."
"Relating to the spine," Gerard put in.
"That's right. Whatever made this cut was laced with a paralytic toxin potent enough to disable all motor functions. These are the cause of death," Deaton informed the hunters, gesturing to the slash marks on the torso.
"Five for each finger," said Argent.
"Each claw," corrected Gerard.
"As you can see, it dug in, slashed upward, eviscerating the lungs and slashing through the bones of the ribcage with ease," continued Deaton, leaving Scott sufficiently terrified.
"Have you ever seen anything like this before?" asked Argent.
"No," Deaton told him.
"Any idea at all what killed it?" pressed Argent.
YOU ARE READING
Stay With Me
FanfictionScott McCall has been a werewolf for a few months now, but his life hasn't really gotten any easier since he defeated Peter. His crush still doesn't seem to know that he exists; his best friend's dad still wants to kill him (violently); and on top o...
