Til The Dawn [Midnights #1] ✓

chapter 56

Stiles ran as fast as his legs would carry him, his own heartbeat pounding so loud in his ears it nearly cut out all other sounds. Like that of Lydia, Allison, Jackson, and Isaac running along beside him. Their shoes squeaked loudly as they hit one turn after another, trying to lose the lunatic seemingly moving at a leisurely pace and always right on their heels, like the bastard was straight out of a horror movie or something. And their own labored breathing matching his as they fought to stay out of arm's reach of the madman who had killed their chemistry teacher and had clearly set his sights on them as his next target for no other reason than because he could.

But this was Stiles' luck. It always had been. Ever since meeting Scott McCall on the playground in kindergarten, he'd been fucked. He might not have known it then, but it obviously was always meant to culminate in this one terrifying moment, wondering if any of them would make it out alive or if they were all doomed.

Maybe Stiles' ridiculously awful luck was rubbing off on other people too. He was an affliction, after all, so it kinda made sense that those standing too close to him would find themselves in a world of hurt.

"In here!" Jackson hollered.

He shoved them all into the old, much smaller cafeteria ahead of him and slammed the door shut. Stiles wrinkled his nose at the musky, damp smell now surrounding them, hating this section of their high school. The damn place should've been torn down years ago.

Jackson shoved a nearby chair into the handles and backed away from it slowly, standing in front of them all like a sentinel. Or a bodyguard. It was almost sweet. Like he truly believed whatever it was that was after them, he could stop. But Jackson was as painfully human as Stiles, and there'd be no protecting them from whatever was about to come through that door.

It turned out, Stiles now realized, that once the supernatural had been revealed to you, it was impossible not to recognize it. And Stiles, for one, was getting pretty damn good at seeing shit for what it was, even when no one else was on his side initially. People not believing him without mountains of evidence was the default for Stiles. And yeah, it hurt his feelings how much convincing they needed, despite how often he was wrong. Which, by the way, was never. But they did always come around, so Stiles never stayed irritated for long.

Besides, he got to scratch the research itch. The only thing that seemed to calm his racing mind.

A loud bang on the door and the soft yelp from Allison jolted him back to the present, though. He was being chased. He didn't have the time to get lost in his own head. All his brainpower needed to go to finding an escape.

The windows were a no-go. The doors were all chained shut. This psycho was thorough, Stiles had to admit. They were trapped. And without Scott. Thankfully, Isaac was to his left, just in front of Lydia, between her and Jackson, and he could help should shit truly hit the fan.

Well, more than now, anyway.

The door suddenly flung open and Lydia slapped a hand over her mouth, probably hoping she wouldn't scream and give away their location. But Stiles was pretty sure it didn't matter. Yeah, the dude was bandaged up, covering his eyes and everything, but it didn't seem to have an impact. He still knew exactly where they were without any help, which proved Stiles' point again. This was supernatural in nature.

And they were fucked.

"What do you want?" Isaac growled.

And, like, actually growled. Which meant they were in dangerous territory. Isaac was operating on instinct. Not a good thing. Because all of Isaac's human instincts were gone when it came to a potentially deadly situation like this one, replaced only with his baser, werewolf ones. Ones that had no rational explanation for Allison and Lydia. And would absolutely confirm what Jackson had been pissed about earlier when they'd attempted to convince him he was crazy.