fall ↠ hale | 1

nineteen

twenty øne pilots - fairly local

" bulletproof and black like a funeral "

Someone kicked Derek and I over so we were facing the ceiling. My head was resting on his chest so I could hear his heart pounding, no matter how hard he tried to play it off like he wasn't scared. I looked around and my eyes met the person who was controlling Jackson, a gun held lazily in his hand. It was Matt.
"This is the one controlling him?" Derek said mockingly. "This kid?" He may have tried to play it off cool, but inside his heartbeat was going crazy. I was the same, though. I'd always felt there was something off about Matt but I never realised until now, when I looked into his eyes and saw the craziness right at the forefront; the front line of the battle.
I was overcome with guiltiness and anger as I realised how much danger we'd put Allison in by not seeing who he truly was before. But I was angry that he'd woven his way into her head, making her seem like he was harmless as he went around on his killing spree, massacring innocents. Something in me felt proud that she'd managed to get herself out before it was too late and we were reading her obituary in the morning news.

"Well, Derek, not everyone's lucky enough to be a big, bad werewolf," He leered, his voice completely different. While it had been completely normal before, it was now dripping with malice. He turned to Scott and Stiles, who were shocked at the mention of werewolves. "Oh yeah, that's right! I've learned a few things lately. Werewolves, hunters, kanimas. It's like a fricking Halloween party every full moon! Except for you, Stiles. What do you turn into?"
"Abominable snowman. But, uh, it's more of like a wintertime thing? You know, seasonal," Stiles replied sarcastically, not knowing when to stop as per usual.
Matt nodded at Jackson, who flicked a claw across the back of Stiles' neck.
"Hey!" Scott cried.
"Bi-itch," Stiles whimpered, his voice breaking as he dropped to the ground. He landed right on top of Derek and I.
"Get them...off of me," Derek growled through gritted teeth.
"Oh, I don't know, Derek. I think you three make a pretty good trio," Matt grinned. "And, Rose, I still don't know what you turn into. But something tells me you don't know either, so I'll let it slide," His voice was laced with a hint of laughter and anger boiled inside me. He was mocking me and I was powerless to stop it. "But back to Derek. You're the funnest to laugh it. It really must suck to have all that power taken away from you by just a little cut to the back of the neck. I bet you're not used to feeling this helpless,"
"I've still got some teeth," Derek spat. "Why don't you get a little closer and see how helpless I really am?"
"Yeah, bitch," Stiles whined, his voice muffled due to his face being buried in Derek's chest. A car pulled up outside the station, its headlights illuminating the covered window for a few seconds before the car passed.
"Is that her?" Matt asked, waving the gun carelessly in his hand. Scott's eyes widened with fear. Someone he loved was about to get hurt. "Do what I tell you to and I won't hurt her. I won't even let Jackson near here,"
"Scott, don't trust him!" Stiles cried. Matt flipped him over with his foot and pressed it against Stiles' chest, constricting his breath. Panic rose within me and Stiles' face became purple, slowly suffocating to death.
"Does this work better for you?" Matt demanded, twisting his foot harder into Stiles' windpipe.
"No, okay! Just stop! Stop!" Scott cried desperately.
"Okay, just please stop!" Matt moved his foot from Stiles' body at Scott's request. He coughed and wheezed in an effort to get his breath back, and the blood slowly drained from his face as it returned to its normal colour. Matt pointed to Jackson, then the three of us on the floor.
"You, take them in there," He gestured to the sheriff's private office before turning to Scott. "You, with me. Now," The two of them left the room, leaving three paralysed captives alone with a blood-thirsty kanima. Like that didn't sound like a recipe for disaster. Jackson grabbed the three of us and hauled us into the other room, his strength making it seem like no big deal. I was surprised his arm didn't snap off from all the weight.
He threw us onto the floor and went to stand by the door, allowing us to talk without him hearing if we were quiet enough.
"Who's here? Is it Allison?" I whispered.
"No. Scott's mom," Stiles replied darkly.
"Why is she here?" Derek asked.
"Because we found evidence that could pin the murder of the pregnant woman on Matt. There was security footage of him at the hospital around that time but we couldn't see his faces. The only proof we had that it was him was Melissa because she spoke to him. We needed a statement so Scott called her. Then Matt arrived and everything went to shit and we couldn't call her to tell her not to come so now she's in danger too,"
"Oh no," I said.
"Wait, Deaton said your dad was here," Derek told Stiles. "Where is he?"
"Handcuffed to the wall by the cells. He should be safe for now, Matt seems to have forgotten about him. Unless he gets mad and decides to let Jackson loose on everyone in here, which, honestly, I really wouldn't put past him,"
"Don't worry, Stiles. Your dad's going to be fine. So is Melissa. We'll get everyone out of this somehow," I tried to comfort him, which was surprisingly hard when I couldn't move to pat him on the back or anything.
"I hope so. But, anyway, where were you guys? You completely disappeared from the party, Rose. And, no offence, but you both look like shit,"
"That's a long story for another time," Derek muttered. I was hoping that, when the time came to tell it, he'd leave out the part where we made out in his car instead of getting to Scott and Stiles earlier, which probably could have saved all of us.