( 𝒔𝒊𝒙, illusionist. )
"WHY ARE YOU EVERYWHERE."
𝗦𝗖𝗢𝗧𝗧 𝗛𝗔𝗗 𝗕𝗔𝗥𝗚𝗘𝗗 in and had blood stains on the front of his shirt. His unruly hair made it seem as if he had gotten into a fight with himself. He quickly looked over from Deaton to Roxy, and his eyes had a widened.
"Wha- what are you doing here?" his breath like a cloud of smoke in the cold air.
She didn't want anyone to know about the... 'situation', even though Scott's photograph had brought her attention to this 'thing', she didn't want to get answers to this 'thing' in front of anyone. That's why all that came out of her mouth was, "My dog broke."
Deaton had been open and closing his mouth like a fish, and finally snapped out of his daze. "What the hell happened to you-"
She didn't know why he was being so dramatic, haven't they all established that he's a werewolf, he can heal by himself. Deaton quickly advanced towards Scott, so she obviously intervened. Standing in front of him, he was taller than her, actually both of them were. "Never mind him, you answer my questions, otherwise you're dead, and I'm guessing you know what I'm capable of," she warned, flashing her eyes.
"You're not going to do that," he subtly shook his head.
"And why's that?"
"Because I'm the only one who remembers what happened."
"You know I'm starting to think you're causing the problems in the town," a voice says from behind. She forgot Scott was here. She turned around and the red stain on his shirt hadn't stopped, the blood was still spreading - tainting his shit with the reminder that he couldn't protect.
"Just please, I'll explain it to you later. I'll take care of Scott's problem," he heads to the back before poking his head out the door, "and please don't hurt anyone," he says directly to her. I mean, technically Scott's a monster too, he can kill people as well, it's not just her. "They're coming back, so we don't have much time to talk!"
"What is that?" Scott asks as he pulls up his shirt for Deaton.
"Rubbing alcohol. You don't want it to get infected, do you? You will heal the same, just not as quickly, because of Derek." Yay, Hottie Derek, or was it Hot Back Guy? Denrick?
"Okay, how do you know all this? Actually, how - How do you know anything?" Scott asked frantically, almost amazed as Deaton started to clean up his wound.
"Yeah Deaton, how do you know everything?" she added.
"It's- I- It's a long story but what I can tell you, is that I know about your kind. Well, kind of," he turned to Scott and her. "I can help, but this," he pointed to the dead guy on the table. "This is something different."
There's a dead person on the table.
There's a dead person on the table?
She might've been a vampire but damn she needed to get her eyes checked. "Hey! I came here first so get in line," she faced Scott before turning to Deaton, "You, give me my answers."
"Answers for what?" Deaton looked at Scott.
"Hey, don't look at him, look at me!"
"Umm, I don't know- I don't think now is the right time for this-"
"You invited me in here and tell me about a part of my life I don't even remember and then ignore me!"
"No?" he replies. She could not with anyone anymore.
"Anyways," he muttered quietly, "the Argents will know stuff about him," he pointed to the dead guy, "and this is the crucial part, they'll have a record or book. It'll have descriptions, histories, notations, of all the things that they've discovered." So a bestiary?
"Gosh it's like I'm back in Mystic Falls," she mumbled under her breath, looking to the guy on the table. Whoever's claws had scratched, had gone extremely deep. It was like the man had been made out of cardboard. The sides of his wounds? Scratches? Whatever, was almost peeling off, like he was burnt. His skin was pale, contrasting his red wounds. He looked unhuman, like a ghost, but his eyes was what was jarring, they were open but his pupils were just pure black.
"All the things? How many different things are there?" Scott exclaims.
Suddenly the two them, Scott and Roxy, with their 'super hearing', started to sense the low rumble of the hunter's cars, and their ugly man voices. Before they knew it, Deaton's hands were on the both of them, pushing them into a concealed room.
"You're not really here because of your dog are you?" Scott stated the obvious as they heard Deaton scrambling to clean up a bit of the mess as the hunters approached the front door.
"Well, obviously not, you idiot."
"Then what happened with you," he said quieter then normal. I mean it's truly amazing, it's like this boy wants to die. First he dates a hunter, actively puts himself in trouble that he isn't involved in and now asks stupid questions while people that would willing want to kill him are outside the very room he's in. What?
"I have no clue to be honest."
"Killers come in all ages," Deaton says.
"All ages, sizes, shapes. It's the last one that concerns us," an old guy, the principle, says. I mean at least he's inclusive?
Deaton had gone into a deep analysis of the dead guy, "That's right. Whatever made this cut, it's laced with a paralytic toxin, potent enough to disable all motor functions. These are the cause of death. Notice the patterns on each side."
"Five for each finger."
"Each claw."
"As you can see, it dug in, slashed upward, eviscerating the lungs and slicing through the bone of the rib cage with ease."
"Have you ever seen anything like this before?"
It was like they're playing a game with each other. Who would lose first?
"Be very afraid. Because in the natural world, predators with paralytic toxins use them to catch and eat their prey. This prey wasn't eaten. That means whatever killed him only wanted to kill him. In fact, killing may be its only purpose."
The hunters were threatening him, they're on the good side, they're the good guys. But it's funny how all they cause is anguish. Their heavy footsteps retreated back to the safety of their vehicles. Deaton, with a sweaty brow and a dead face, opened the door, and leads them out. Scott immediately left, no doubt to tell Stiles or Allison.
Deaton went back into the back room while Roxy went back to the yearbook he had showed her. The pictures were just so... they felt so real. It was obviously her, but why did it seem like everyone knows what was going on except her. It literally looked like something from 'Mean Girls' or something. Roxy, the guy and the girl that were with her in all the pictures she was in, seemed too familiar. She wanted to cry. How would she even handle a situation like that? It wasn't like she could call Damon or Stefan to help her, and she didn't have anyone else to talk to about this. Jared was there - and she knew that if she asked, he would've let her rant to him - but, she couldn't talk to him, not about this, and definitely not until she had the faintest idea on who was doing this to her.
"It was 1991 when you joined the school. I remember you instantly becoming friends with Melissa and Noah. Everyone was so jealous," he smiled fondly at a picture of one of the teachers. That literally gave her no information, the date was on the cover of the yearbook. "I don't know what happened but it was the day after prom, that you had just gone," he looked over at her, "you vanished, and no one else remembered you..."
"Except you."
"Except me."
Obviously, but that's not enough information for her to at least try to remember what the fuck happened to her, but she was almost 100% sure that the creepy old principal had something that'll give her answers. He was old enough to have psycho friends in high places that would have a clue that would lead to what happened to her.
But, in the meantime, she couldn't have someone holding something like this above her head, something they can threaten her with and can sell off for others to threaten her with. She had to protect herself.
So she snapped Deaton's neck.
𝗧𝗛𝗘 𝗔𝗕𝗔𝗡𝗗𝗢𝗡𝗘𝗗 𝗧𝗥𝗔𝗜𝗡 station Derek had set camp up at is, in one word, absolutely disgusting. It was dirty, brown, dusty and falling apart. As Roxy walked in, a part of the roof fell down right in front of my face. Not to mention, she walked in on Erika kissing Denrick- no Derek.
"Eww, aren't you like, family now, isn't that incest," she exclaimed, blowing the dust off herself.
"Who are you?" Boyd says from what seems like beyond the shadows.
"And why are you here?" the blond boy adds.
"I was bored. Didn't know it was illegal to visit my favourite pack of werewolves," and she needed to talk to Derek about his dead family. This was going to be so good. She moved to Derek, where his cold gaze never left her, "I need to talk to you."
"Anything you say to him, you can say to us," Erika intervened.
Derek didn't agree or disagree, and she thought it was a signal to go ahead. "Y'know how your family burned to death right?" Boyd immediately looked down and Isaac, slowly stepped away to sit down next to him.
"Yes, I'm aware," Derek struggled to say through his anger. He hadn't brought it up with anyone since he came back to Beacon Hills. He wasn't mad when Kate got her throat slashed, he was furious because he wasn't the one to do it.
"Well then I think we have a common enemy then," she smirked.
"I have no business with the Argents anymore, Roxy. Whatever you're planning-"
"I'm not planning anything, I'm just saying that if by chance someone gets drained or their neck snapped, and by chance a pack of werewolves decided to help said murder, it'd just be a coincidence," the girl shrugged.
"No."
"Come on but, you're the only one in the town that can kinda relate to me."
"Why did they set fire to house too?"
"I don't know, but it's I'm afraid it's worse," she mutters, staring straight at him.
"What do you want us to do?" Derek asked, and the three beta's listened eagerly.
"You'll know when," she said cryptically, before walking out of there.
The sun rose and everyone was talking about the first lacrosse game of the season, the first of the school year. Jared had messaged Roxy that he wasn't coming to school that day. Apparently having a lacrosse game meant that you throw up all night, and all morning.
Walking alone in the school halls felt eerie. She had walked these halls before, she had been here before, she was part of someone's life and then she was gone - just like that? How- maybe she compelled everyone and forgot about Deaton? But it's not like one of the originals were going to compel her, at that time at least.
And of course Stiles has to ruin her lovely string of thoughts. He was panting as he crashed into her from behind. The girl turned and he was laying on the floor with his hand over his forehead. She put my hand out to help him up, like a good citizen, but he swatted her hand away with his, like she was a mosquito or something.
"I don't want to touch hands with a witch." I flashed my fangs was looking directly at neck, not that long ago, and he still can't get what I am. Twilight is a thing in this town right? "You know they would've burned you in the old days," he states snootily.
"You know with that haircut, they would've called you a werewolf in Viking times and then chopped your head off and eat it as a ceremonial offering to the gods," she didn't actually know if that was true or not but there must be some reason that Klaus & Co. had all those luscious locks of hair. He blinked and then ran away to the front of the school gates.
The school cafeteria food wasn't half bad, it's better then whatever Roxy could cook anyway. As she entered the busy room, Scott was bouncing his knees and looking desperately at the entrance. As she have nothing to do for the next few minutes, it wouldn't hurt to see what he did to inevitably piss off the hunters. "Hey loser," she sat opposite him at the lunch table.
"Hello?"
"What?"
"Nothing," he shook his head subtly, "So did you..."
"Did I what?" she put her elbows on the table.
"Get what you were looking for from Deaton?" he asked.
...I mean, yes but also no.
"Sure, but Deaton is-"
"She says. Has to be. Office," Stiles panted, climbing onto table, laying down on it like it was his bed. "I'm just going to rest for a second."
"Is it the bestiary?"
"See it's not bestiality," Stiles laughed at Scott, who gives Roxy a confused look.
"I was at the clinic last night remember," she pointed out.
"Didn't the hunters notice anything?" Stiles asked, sitting up.
"They don't notice a lot of things, I mean they don't know their daughter is dating a werewolf when basically half the town realises it," she had a sarcastic smile plastered on her face.
"Aren't you scared at all that they could kill you, or- or torture you or, I don't know, kill everyone you love or something!?" Scott insisted.
No.
They were hunters - human hunters. The worst they could do to her was stink her up with garlic and put some wooden splinters into her. "So far, they're kinda lame. I don't know why you're so scared of them. I mean you could just slash their throats and they're dead. It's so simple," she shrugged.
"We're not going to murder people!?" Scott whisper shouted.
"But it's so much fun killing!"
"...What!?"
"I can't do this right now, I have to get back to Allison," Stiles groaned, jumping off the table, rubbing his legs, before sprinting outside.
"So this 'bestiary', with your, you-ness, would you have any idea on what we're dealing with," Scott turned to her.
"Well, what are you dealing with?"
"See - I don't know for sure, but it's a lizard sort of monster?"
"Is that a statement or a question?"
"I don't kn-" he got cut off by the bell, and Scott awkwardly looked around. "So..."
"Bye Scott."
As the rustling of the teens going to class filled up each hallway of the school, it was only fate that after bumping into to Scott and Stiles that Allison was next. Roxy hadn't seen or met Allison from their last conversation where she kept threatening her, like it kind of hurts to be threatened 24/7. She actually could not catch a break.
As she entered the history classroom, the hunter behind her sighed and followed her to her desk, beside Roxy's. Her steady breaths were all that could be focused on, she was seething and anyone could feel it from a mile away. "You went to the animal clinic yesterday," she stated, staring at the board in front of her.
"Mhm," Roxy hummed, keeping her eyes forward.
"You saw my dad."
"I heard him, and your grandfather."
"Mhm."
"Mhm."
"Did you kill him?" she finally asked, the burning question was finally said.
"Who?" She didn't think that Deaton was the one she was talking about, but it had been a few hours.
"The mechanic," her voice quietened down.
"Oh, is he the one with, like the battle scars? Because who ever did that, was extremely sloppy. I would never just scoop someone's skin like that, can you imagine having blood, and skin, and just someone's flesh under your nails? I have some class." From the corner of her eye Allison rolled her eyes - very dramatically - and continued to ignore her for the rest of the class.
( authors note. )
plss i haven't written this much in a while,
especially in my writing slump so be happy