The Shining ¥ Teen Wolf

twenty-three

Coach leaned down a bit to meet Danny's eyes at sitting level. "Again. Danny, tell Jackson no missing practice this close to championships, okay?"

"Sure, Coach," agreed Danny with a light nod.

Coach straightened up, looking around at his players. "That goes for all of you," he said before retreating back into his office. "I should be coaching college," he remarked in a mumble before shutting the door.

Danny looked back to Scott and Stiles, picking up their conversation again. "Sorry, but I only got two myself."

"Do you even have a date, man?" asked Stiles quickly.

Danny glared at Stilinski briefly, "I'm working on it."

"Okay, okay," Stiles tried. "Hear me out. You give us the tickets and devote your life to abstinence and just-"

Both Stiles and Scott had a strong grip suddenly hit them, Isaac holding them by their jerseys.

Isaac, in his maroon practice gear, looked between them. "How do you two losers even survive?"

Stiles irritatedly gaped, annoyed with Lahey like usual.

Scott let go of an exasperated sigh, "What are we supposed to do? No one's selling."

Isaac looked across the room, seeing two guys exchanging tickets. He let go of them, patting Stiles on the chest as he half smirked. "Wait here, boys."

"What is he gonna-" Scott stopped, James hitting a locker with a crash.

Stiles winced, "Yep-" another clatter sounded, "That's excessive."

However, the noises didn't stop.

"That'll bruise," remarked Stiles as Scott watched with an open mouth. "Ow, okay."

Isaac walked back over, sticking a ticket for the rave to each of their chests. He patted them with a smug grin before turning around. "Enjoy the show."

¥ ¥ ¥

Winnie, sat down in the hall below her locker, was staring at her sketchbook. She'd come early, and with the library currently closed, she hadn't many options of where to spend her extra fourty-five minutes. She wasn't really sure why she'd come early, but there she was.

Her finger traced the graphite lines, it entrancing her in a way that was rare. She could sense that it was unlike her other drawings.

She almost always drew near the future if not only an hour before.

Winnie, however, knew this one picture wasn't the case.

It was distant; far off without a time stamp.

The last time she'd seen that far into the future, someone died.

Winnie glanced up, finding people beginning to arrive for the school day. She shuffled up from the ground, dusting of the back of her dark jeans as she did.

Still, her eyes drifted back down to the drawing.

Oddly distracted from those around her, Winnie reached into her bag. She fished out a pen from next to the envelope holding her ticket to the rave, scrawling a sudden title next to her sketch of an elegant and haunting mask.

Oni

¥ ¥ ¥

Scott looked at the bottle his boss held, he and Stiles at the vet clinic with Winnie after school. "Ketamine?"

"It's the same stuff we use on the dogs," said Deaton as he set it and a syringe on the table, "just a higher dosage. If you can get close enough to Jackson, it should slow him down enough to buy you some time." He brought out a bottle of black dust, showing it to the three. "This is some of what you'll use to create the barrier. This part is for you, Stiles." He placed the jar on the table next to the ketamine. "Only you."

"Uh," Stiles uncomfortably said, "that sounds like a lot of pressure. Can we give this to Winnie and find a slightly less pressure-filled task for me?"

"It's from the mountain ash tree," Deaton told him, "which is believed by many cultures to protect against the supernatural." He motioned around, "This office is lined with ash wood, making it difficult for someone like Scott to cause me any trouble."

"Meaning what for me?" questioned Winnie curiously. "I'm not really...supernatural."

"Some beg to differ when it comes to shining," Deaton countered. "With a shine like yours would be risking if this would work or not."

"Okay," Stiles set down the mountain ash, "so then what? I just spread this around the whole building an then either Jackson or whoever's controlling him can't cross it?"

Deaton lightly nodded, "They'll be trapped."

Winnie looked over to Stiles, standing next to him. "Doesn't sound too hard, Stilinski."

"Not all there is," interrupted Deaton. "Think of it like gunpowder. It's just until a spark ignites it. You need to be that spark, Stiles."

"If you mean light myself on fire, I don't think I'm up for that," Stiles remarked.

Deaton softly smiled, "Let me try a different analogy. I used to golf. I learned that the best golfers never swing before first imagining where they want the ball to go. They see it in their mind and their mind takes over. It can be pretty extraordinary what the force of your own will can accomplish."

Stiles felt like he was being weighed down. "Force of will."

"Hey," Deaton said as he saw the doubt in his face, "if this is going to work, Stiles, you have to believe it."

Stiles took a deep inhale, nodding. Believe, he thought.

Winnie, however, had a drawing of an incomplete circle and only a handful of mountain ash. She, more than the others, was worried about how to the night would turn out.