"𝒾𝓉 𝓌𝒶𝓈 𝓉𝒽ℯ 𝒷ℯ𝓈𝓉 ℴ𝒻 𝓉𝒾𝓂ℯ𝓈, 𝓉𝒽ℯ 𝓌ℴ𝓇𝓈𝓉 ℴ𝒻 𝒸𝓇𝒾𝓂ℯ𝓈"
Ophelia had less than three hours sleep, constantly tossing and turning in her bed and dreading to wake up the following morning to what she knew had to happen, no matter how much she didn't want it to. At seven o'clock, she had reluctantly trudged down the stairs to greet her family, plastering on a smile as the last thing she wanted to do was burden Rebekah with the guilt of leaving her younger sister. The vampire had far more important priorities than worrying over Ophelia's mental health, like trying to protect Hope from a bunch of psychotic witches. At least, that's what the Stone had convinced herself. As she watches the sleek, black Range Rover pull out of her driveway, Rebekah giving her a wave before the vehicle disappears down the street, she finally lets her smile drop and a heavy sigh leave her lips.
Initially, she hadn't been so keen on letting the pair of females stay with her in Beacon Hills. Especially because back then she had a rather strong dislike for children, specifically babies. Although as the time passed, she had grown to love Hope Mikaelson as much as she did the rest of her siblings. The two girls had become so attached to each other that it made Rebekah physically sick at the mere thought of parting them from one another. But at the end of the day Ophelia had to set her own selfish thoughts aside and let her niece and older sister go.
Hope's safety and wellbeing appears to be the most important thought on every one of the Mikaelsons' minds, and rightfully so. Whether it be having to keep up the ruse in New Orleans, dealing with intense grief of having to pretend your baby is dead, or reminding yourself to move to another town to make sure someone doesn't catch onto the whereabouts of the young girl, the entire family are wound up with their own tidal waves of emotions and the daily complications being thrown at them left, right, and centre.
Ophelia grits her teeth together, then drains an entire bag of blood that she had been given by Melissa McCall; the woman who had raided the stock room at the hospital for her. Being properly introduced to her wasn't the most comfortable position to be in, particularly after she had been informed that Scott had fully filled his mother in on all the missing supernatural details about herself. Initially, Melissa had been downright terrified of Ophelia, backing away with a ghostly pale face and muttering inaudible pleas for Scott to get the girl out of their house. Four months later and after a heap of reassuring and convincing from herself, Scott, and Stiles, things had drastically taken a turn and Melissa considers her to be a close family friend. One of those family friend responsibilities included 'borrowing' blood from the supply fridges at Beacon Hills Memorial Hospital.
Slamming her front door behind her, the teenage girl jogs down to her car and starts the engine of her Porsche with the intentions to head over to Stiles' house and see what had been found overnight. She has zero intention of going to school afterward though. Instead, she plans to run through the Preserve in her wolf form, using the physical exercise to clear her mind and take out her anger on a bird or a lone deer. Just to be nice, she would bring the leftover meat home, then gift it to her friends for a barbecue or roast dinner.
While she cranks the radio up to full volume and winds all the windows down, she realises that she has a strong feeling that whatever they were researching on didn't take 'minutes' like Stiles had convincingly told Derek the prior evening. However, if it meant reading through stacks and stacks of old new articles to distract herself from the abrupt departure of Rebekah and Hope, so be it.
Parking the car next to the Sheriff's car in front of the Stilinski's house, Ophelia yawns loudly as she takes her time walking up to the front door. Digging through her purse, she pulls out a chain full of various colours and sizes of keys. Eventually finding the one she needs, she quickly unlocks the door and walks inside, having already been invited in the first time she had been around to binge Star Wars movies with Stiles. Just as she quietly shuts it behind her, she freezes and winces when a pair of footsteps stop behind her.
"Now, what the hell are you doing here?"
"Sheriff," she greets with a beaming smile. "Lovely to see you. Isn't the weather just wonderful today?"
The man narrows his eyes at her, and he goes to nod, but realises that his front door had been locked since last night. The second he spots the key in her hand, his eyebrows raise. "Key," he states plainly.
"It's only fair since your son has one for my house."
Noah Stilinski blinks repeatedly and stares at her with disbelief. Then he remembers who his son is. "Right, of course he does..." He sighs in defeat and waves a hand over to the stairs standing a few metres from them. "C'mon, you can help me wake them up."
"I've been waiting for this moment all month," she responds with glee, the excited giggle causing him to chuckle.
"They stayed up researching something all night, no clue what it was about," he, taking a sip out of the coffee cup in his hand.
Ophelia chuckles as they stop outside Stiles' bedroom door, the blonde already picking up on the faint snoring from inside the room. "So, what's the procedure on these things? Do you just yell?" She rocks back and forth on her heels and chews on the inside of her cheek. "Or am I allowed to get ice...?"
Noah hesitates for a moment, his eyes narrowed as he seriously considers her questions. "Let's start with the yelling, then you have full rein to do whatever."
The wide grin that beams onto Ophelia's face almost gives the man goosebumps. Something about how eager she is to possibly give the boys an unpleasant experience makes him unsettled. "All yours," she whispers, clasping her hands behind her back with a seemingly innocent smile.
Opening the door, the Sheriff sighs at what he finds, the girl behind him snickering as she pokes her head above his shoulder to peer inside. Stiles has the lower half of his body on his bed and his upper half slumped in an uncomfortable position on the floor, his cheek stuck on a piece of paper. Scott is slouched back in the desk chair with his mouth wipe open as he loudly snores, the printer beside him continuing to produce pieces of paper.
"Boys," the Sheriff calls out in exasperation.Neither move a muscle. "Hey, time to wake up! Boys!" Noah shakes his head, then nods over to Ophelia, his eyes widening as he finds she is now in possession of a bucket filled to the brim with water and cubes of ice. "You-I-How-"
She flashes him a grin and slips past him, trying to stifle her laughter all the while. She decides to spare Stiles, considering he had gotten the brunt of her lipstick act the other day at the tattoo parlour, and makes a beeline over to Scott. Even after all the moments of suffering she had managed to cause him over the last few months, the delight and pleasure that still fills her soul when performing the small acts could lead one to compare the teenager to the clinically insane.
With a shriek of terror, shock, and agony, Scott McCall's eyes snap open and he scrambles up out of the chair, flailing around to rid himself of the excruciatingly cold liquid that has just been dumped on top of his head. In the process, he not only trips over the chair and tumbles to the ground, but also falls on top of Stiles, who has been startled awake from the loud commotion. "Bitch," the latter mutters, grunting as the heavy weight of the werewolf lands on him.
Noah watches the scene in amusement, feeling a sliver of pride toward the young teenage girl. "You and you," he points to the two boys, his smile now gone as he attempts to remain serious. "I gotta get to work. Get to school."
Pushing Scott off him, Stiles grimaces at the large damp patch on his shirt, but his eyes widen as his father goes to leave. He misses Scott's own eyes faintly glowing golden as he glares at Ophelia standing and watching him with a wide grin. "Dad! Heather?"
"No," the man replies grimly with a small shake of his head. "Nothing yet."
When they are finally alone, Ophelia arches an eyebrow as she surveys the room's destruction. "'It's the internet, Derek. Minutes,'" she mocks Stiles from yesterday, a giggle slipping past her lips as Scott growls at her for the second time.
"Dude, what the fuck? You could've yelled at me!"
She sighs through her nose and jumps onto Stiles' bed to cross her legs over each other, and finally spares a glance at her drenched friend. "We did, well, he did." She points out the door to where the Sheriff has disappeared off to. "Multiple times."
"You look like a drowned cat," Stiles comments, failing miserably at stifling his own laughter.
"Fuck off," Scott groans, storming out the room to find a towel to dry his hair with.
"Morning!" Ophelia brightly says when her friend meets her eyes.
Stiles rolls his eyes playfully, but his smile only spreads wider as Scott returns with his Oscar worthy scowl still prominent. The human's eyebrows furrow in confusion as he checks the time on his phone, and glances back up to the girl questioningly. "What are you doing here? School-"
The hybrid shrugs and picks up a piece of paper amongst a pile carelessly strewn on the dark blue duvet cover. "I have a double period of maths, so I'm skipping. Hence why I came to see if you found anything."
"Nothing. Ten hours and nothing." Stiles raises his hand to pinch the air, not having the energy to convince her that maths is indeed important and worth attending. "Zilch. Nothing!"
Sighing to himself, Scott throws the damp towel onto the floor and runs his hand through his hair that only looks slightly better than it did a few minutes ago. He strips off his sodden t-shirt and grabs onto one of Stiles' that had been tossed in the corner of the room. "We're gonna find something," he attempts to reassure the visibly stressed boy, and most likely himself as well.
"Finding something doesn't make Erica any less dead, or Boyd any less about-to-be-dead," Stiles counters as he walks across the room, beginning to sort through the articles.
Ophelia clicks her tongue in agreement but stays silent as she forces herself to properly skim read through the stack of paper. "Well, we still have time," Scott replies calmly.
With a look of exasperation, Stiles turns around to face his best friend. "Is this whole, like, 'remain optimistic in the face of complete and utter disaster' thing a part of the 'Be A Better Scott McCall' program?"
Scott's eyebrows raise with the ghost of a smile on his face, and he glances over to Ophelia to find out why she hadn't chuckled, only to find her concentrated on reading. It's such a rare sight, he fully contemplates taking out his phone and taking a photograph. "Uh, not if it doesn't work..."
Stiles huffs a sigh. "No... It works."
"Hey, does this help?"
Both boys look over to Ophelia in confusion, and Stiles narrows his eyes as he snatches the piece of paper out of her outstretched hand. "No fucking way," he mutters in both disbelief and irritation. Shoving it into Scott's hands, the boy sprints out of the room to chase after his father who is no doubt about to leave for the day. "Oh, Dad! Dad? Dad!"
Taking a closer look at the paper, Scott's eyes widen in surprise at how Noah Stilinski is the main face on the news article titled 'Beacon Hills First National Bank Robbery.' He lifts his head to meet the green eyes of his friend, Ophelia already watching him with a smile full of pride. "Y-you've been here for, like, five minutes," he utters incredulously.
"Am I forgiven for the water thing?" Ophelia questions, a smirk toying on her lips. "'Cause I just found more than you guys did in ten bloody hours. Ten. Hours. It's kind of pathetic if you think about it."
Rolling his eyes, Scott huffs a sigh and collapses onto the bed beside her. "Shut up."
⋆｡ ﾟ☁︎｡ ⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡ ⋆
Sinking her dagger-like canines into the spongy flesh of the deer, the action ever so slightly calms the waves of adrenaline surging through Ophelia's body. It's been far too long since she has been on a proper hunt. Of course, she would never willingly drink the blood of animals unless it proved to be absolutely necessary. The hunt is more for her own excitement and to satisfy her love for eating meat. It also provides her with an alternative to take her murderous rage out on something a little more... subtle. After all, she had promised Stiles to try and contain her violence. Noah Stilinski still isn't aware of the supernatural, so naturally, his son had stressed to the supernatural hybrid about making an effort to limit the number of bodies drained of blood to as little as possible. In Ophelia's defence, he never said anything about the animals.
The mammal's wide and innocent hazel eyes are a stark contrast to the noise that it produces the second her teeth create the deadly wound, a loud squeal leaving its mouth as it fights against the looming presence of death.
Without a care in the world, Ophelia finally tears through the surface to the raw flesh as the deer takes its final breath. Her once pearly white canines are now stained in dark blood, tufts of hair stuck in between the gaps of her teeth as she swallows the food down her throat. The Alpha wolf's coat is painted with mud, the combination of both fresh and dried blood, as well as any twigs or leaves that had been caught throughout the journey leading up to this very moment.
She feels content as she begins the work on her afternoon snack, and plops down onto the ground in slight exhaustion, a particularly tough bone positioned in between her two front paws as she gnaws away. The hybrid is so distracted and caught up in her own world that she barely notices an animal quietly trot up to her and cautiously rip out her own piece of venison, her grey eyes flicking back and forth between the wolf and carcass. As she finally looks up with interest, Ophelia quickly returns back to her task at hand, barely bothered by the fact the coyote has joined her once more. Over the previous few weeks, the girl had come to the realisation that her friend loves deer just as much as herself. Which then led to the weekly sessions where they would either hunt down an animal together or bask in each other's company as they ate dinner.
The coyote lays down beside the wolf, the heat radiating off from both of their bodies being a thick blanket of security and comfort. To Ophelia, just the mere scent of the enigma of the animal is enough to lower her blood pressure, all of her anxieties and worries disappearing for the few minutes. It's strange because she knows that this coyote isn't really a coyote. It's also obvious that the coyote is also aware the wolf isn't an actual wolf.
They may have bonded over their love of violence and similarities in their diet, or maybe because Ophelia is the only creature the grey eyed animal had met that is almost exactly like itself. The teenage girl inside the body of the coyote had realised that she isn't alone after all, and that this one particular soul would accept her true self, regardless of whether she harboured a dark history of violence or not.
However, the hybrid has no desire to reveal her human form to her friend any time soon. Right now, Ophelia Stone likes things just the way it is.
⋆｡ ﾟ☁︎｡ ⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡ ⋆
The second Ophelia had gotten out of a hot shower to soothe her muscles, she had loudly groaned at the interruption of her phone ringing. Wrapping a soft cotton towel around her body, the girl sighs as she turns it onto speaker phone, then proceeding to get changed whilst talking. "This is the Beacon Hills Supernatural Hotline, where all of your magical problems are solved. How can I help you?"
"Please tell me you checked the caller ID before you answered?" Stiles queries her in exasperation, rolling his eyes as he shares a look with Scott in the passenger seat of the Jeep.
The girl's eyes widen in mock offence and places a hand over her bare chest. "What? How dare you!"
"You didn't answer the question," Scott adds.
"Actually, if we're being annoying, I asked the question first. So, go ahead, what am I needed for?" She stifles her chuckles as she can only picture their expressions and pulls on a dark grey t-shirt.
Stiles goes to counter her retort, then realises that if they were to continue arguing, he would never get his initial point across. Or he would, but it would take much, much longer than they currently have the time for. "All right, we're going over to Derek's now to go over the plan."
The hybrid's eyebrows raise as she does up the leather belt looped through her jeans. "Plan? We have a plan? We don't have a plan! Oh, unless... The punch through the wall, plan?"
"No," Scott quickly denies before she can get ahead of herself.
"It's heavily inspired by the robbery that happened right before the bank actually shut down," Stiles hastily explains, putting emphasis on the 'heavily.'
"Look, can you meet us there? We're gonna need your help."
Ophelia nods and heads down the staircase to find another bag of blood to drain. "Of course, you do, I expect nothing less." Both of her friends sigh. "On it. Give me fifteen minutes to get something to drink, and I'll be there."
"Wait, do you mean-"
"No, Stiles, I'm not going to commit a crime. That's already happened today. Maybe? I mean, it depends on what you consider a crime to be. You know what, I really shouldn't be telling you this over the phone."
The two teenage boys share a look in alarm, their eyes then snapping back over to the phone sitting in the cup holders. "What?!" "Ophe-"
She chuckles as she hangs up the call, grabbing her car keys in the same hand as the blood bag, planning to multitask while driving.
True to her word, it takes her just less than fifteen minutes to arrive at the large apartment building that Derek owns, parking beside the bright blue Jeep with Scott and Stiles nowhere to be seen. Tossing the empty bag onto the floor of her seat, Ophelia licks her lips clean of any remaining residue of the red liquid and slams the door shut as she speeds ahead, reaching the penthouse in a matter of seconds.
She pulls open the sliding door and kisses her teeth in disapproval to find the group already crowded around the singular table in front of the sizeable window and examining a large piece of paper. "You couldn't wait for me?"
"Don't get all bitchy, sunshine," Peter calls out from his position on the bottom of the spiral staircase. "They got here a few minutes before you did."
"I'm not being bitchy," she retorts, sending the man a playful glare.
"Sure you aren't."
Scott and Stiles share a look at the conversation, the disapproval on their expressions equal. "Okay," the Stilinski interrupts, gesturing to the floor plan of the bank as Ophelia joins them at the table. "This-"
"This is the plan?"
Stiles rolls his eyes in annoyance, barely giving her a glance as she studies the blueprint. "If you let me finish, I'll explain it. Okay, so you see this? This is how they got in: it's a rooftop air conditioning vent, leads down inside into the wall of the vault, which is..." Using a red marker, he draws a large circle around the vent. "Here. Okay?"
Ophelia's eyes follow the movements of his hands, pointing to various markings on the paper as he explains. "So far, it's still confusing."
He purses his lips together and turns to face her, his hand running through his hair out of stress. "You know what, I'm not even going to say anything."
"But you already d-"
"Ophelia," Derek interrupts in warning, his eyebrows raised. Although the way the corners of his lips are slightly uplifted leaves the girl thinking that he is finding this just as amusing as herself.
"Got it."
"One of the robbers was lowered into this shaft. Now, that space is so small, it took him about twelve hours to drill into that wall, which is stone, by the way. Then, throughout the rest of the night, they siphoned the cash up to the guys back on the roof through that one little shaft in the wall. Boom!"
Slowly nodding as she pieces the information together, Ophelia points to the red circle marking where they would have to enter. "All right, but can we fit in there?"
"Yes," Stiles answers with a nod. "Yes, we can, but very, very barely." He ignores the way her face drops and continues to explain their other pressing issues. "And they also patched the well, obviously, so we're gonna need a drill of some kind." Ophelia looks up from the table and locks eyes with Derek, who appears just as bored as herself. They also seem to be silently communicating with one another, something that Scott doesn't miss. "I'm thinking maybe a diamond bit-"
"Look, forget the drill," Derek interrupts, his tone firm with impatience.
Blinking quickly, Stiles turns his attention on to the man with raised eyebrows. "Sorry?"
"He said, 'forget the drill,'" Ophelia repeats simply to him, a smile appearing on her face when she hears Peter's quiet laughter from the side.
Derek rolls his eyes at her. "If either of us go in first..." He gestures between himself and the girl beside him. "How much space do we have?"
Completely stunned by the question, Stiles looks between both Alpha werewolves in disbelief. "What do you... What do you think you're gonna do, Derek? Are you actually gonna punch through the fucking wall?"
"Yes, Stiles," Derek confirms patronisingly, his arms folded across his chest as he stares the boy down. "I'm actually gonna punch through the fucking wall."
Briefly glancing to Scott who is trying to suppress his grin, Ophelia bites onto her lip although a few giggles leave her mouth as Stiles continues to bicker with the Hale. "Okay. Okay, big guy, let's see it! Let's see that fist. Big old fist. Make it, come on! Get it out there! Don't be scared, big, bad wolf!"
With yet another roll of his eyes and a large scowl on his face, Derek raises his clenched fist into the air. The man meets the blonde's eyes, and Ophelia almost bursts out laughing at his facial expression. "Yeah, don't be scared, Der Bear," she taunts.
The human places one of his hands on Derek's elbow and the other a few centimetres away from his outstretched fist. "Yeah, look at that!" Stiles exclaims. "Okay, see this? That's maybe three inches of room to gather enough force to punch through solid co-" Stiles cuts himself off with a loud groan as Derek's fist collides into his palm, the force of the hit sending the boy slamming into the table, then onto the floor. Ophelia's loud laughter quickly follows, but he ignores the sound as he clutches his hand in pain, grumbling various profanities whilst walking away from the group to take a breather. "He can do it," he calls back affirmatively.
Ophelia continues to snicker at the statement, looking over to Peter who this time, isn't subtle with his thoroughly entertained smile and chuckles. "Yeah. Duh."
"I'll get through the wall," Derek reiterates, rolling his eyes again at Stiles' dramatised shrieks of pain. "Who's following me down?"
Without any hesitation needed, Ophelia nods to the man when his eyes flick over to her. "Obviously," she states quickly. Her eyes squint as she tries to provide a reason why. "You need backup, you know, in case something goes wrong." Scott shakes his head at her, a small smile on his face at how quickly herself and Derek had formed a friendship. Compared to Peter, this one, he approves of.
Giving her a nod, Derek turns his head to look at his uncle who is watching with zero desire to have anything to do with the plan. A quiet scoff leaves his mouth. "Don't look at me!" Peter exclaims defensively. "I'm not up to fighting speed, yet."
"Bullshit," Ophelia murmurs under her breath.
"And I'm going to put it bluntly, if you didn't have Fi, you'd be looking at pretty shitty odds. In fact, I'm still not sure you are looking at good odds."
Ophelia stares at him in offence, her nose scrunched up as she folds her arms tightly over her leather jacket. "You bastard-"
Derek places a hand on her arm, and she freezes in her place and sucks in a breath. Now's not the time to be violently assaulting him. "So, I'm supposed to just let them die?"
Peter shrugs. "One of them is already dead."
With his body bristling with irritation, he glowers at his uncle. "We don't know that!"
"Do I have to remind you what we're up against here?" Peter questions. "You might have bloodsucker, but you and her are nothing compared a pack of Alphas."
"Don't call me that,"she retorts with a snap.
Peter doesn't acknowledge the comment, not even letting his eyes pan over to her as he remains focused on his nephew. "And, if that's not enough to scare your testicles back into your stomach, try to remember that two of them combine bodies to form one giant Alpha."
From only the descriptions that Isaac had given her, the mental picture that Ophelia had created of the 'giant Alpha' isn't very pleasant. Her friend had retold the moments of when he had been rescued by the unknown woman on the motorcycle, the same woman who had bruised Lydia and Allison: how there was an intense chase, and how the two werewolves eventually joined bodies when they realised they needed the upper hand in the situation. Not only had Ophelia never heard of something even remotely like this before, not even in fairytales, but she is certain that not even her siblings had.
"I'm sure Erica and Boyd were sweet kids," Peter quietly adds. "They're gonna be missed."
With just a throbbing sensation on his palm now, Stiles looks with wide eyes between the older Hale and the three standing around the table with him. "Can someone kill him again, please?"
Peter narrows his eyes, keeping his gaze on the boy for a few seconds, before looking back to his nephew. "Derek, seriously?" He folds his arms and leans the side of his body on the pillar of the staircase. "Not worth the risk."
"What about you?"
Stiles' eyebrows raise as he glances to Derek, assuming the question that has just been asked is directed toward him. "Yeah, if you want me to come-"
"Not you," Derek corrects in exasperation.
Stiles nods in realisation, and gestures over to Scott who watches the interaction with a slight smile. The McCall softly sighs as he looks between both Alphas, already having made his decision minutes ago. "I don't know about Erica... But, if Boyd's alive, we have to do something." He then gives a pointed look at Peter, who only sighs and rolls his eyes in response. "We have to try."
"Really hating this whole optimistic vibe," Ophelia critiques him, referring to the moment in Stiles' bedroom earlier that morning.
"But...?" Derek queries.
"Who's the other girl?" Scott enquiries in confusion. "The one locked in there with Boyd?"
Ophelia shrugs her shoulders and clears her throat, then cracking her neck side to side, the action receiving her a few looks of disgust from those surrounding her. "I guess we're about to find out."
⋆｡ ﾟ☁︎｡ ⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡ ⋆
Walking through the back-alley of the bank, Ophelia's eyes narrow as her annoyance directed toward Scott's silence continues to boil away like an unattended cauldron. As the three stop below the ladders, she sharply exhales through her nose. "Oh, just spit it out," she snaps impatiently when he hesitates moving any further.
Scott sighs as he turns his body slightly to her, almost flinching upon finding Derek's piercing gaze also on him. "There's just something I can't get out of my head..."
Sharing the same restlessness as the girl, Derek grits his teeth together, the man fully aware how the dark shadows around them are slowly becoming brighter by the source of light cascading down from above. "The moon's rising, Scott. What is it?"
"We don't have all bloody day."
"Risk and reward," Scott says.
"You actually listened in that class?" Ophelia questions to him in disbelief, losing track of what they are doing for a split second.
Derek raises his eyebrows as he looks between the two, being the exact opposite of calm right now. "Which means what?"
"We're not measuring the risk with enough information," Scott simplifies. "We don't know enough."
The hybrid licks her lips as she looks up once more. "We know that we're going to beat them."
"Ofi, come on!" Scott exclaims, trying his best to reason with them. "Just think about it, they put the triskele on both of your doors four months ago. What have they been doing all this time? Why wait until now?"
Ophelia's lips purse tightly together in contemplation as she properly takes in his argument. She hates to admit it, but Scott does make a good point. An incredibly good point, actually. What had Deucalion been doing for four months, when he could have easily made a move before? Three full moons and nothing had happened. Nothing aside from teaching Scott new methods of control and having her monthly binge-watching parties with Lydia to keep herself distracted. Her eyes flick over to the stoic Hale and her eyebrows raise slightly as she waves a hand in Scott's direction. "That's a good point, Der. His cup of tea would've gotten cold by now- more like back in April."
"We don't have time to figure out every little detail-"
"Okay, but what if this detail, the reason why they waited... what if it's the most important one?" Scott counters firmly.
"Then we do nothing, and Boyd and Erica are dead," Derek responds simply. The man sighs as he looks between the two teenagers, his eyes lingering on Scott a little longer. "I know what I'm risking; my life for theirs." Using a trash can almost like a trampoline, he jumps up to grip onto the rusted bars of a window, then swings over to the ladder hanging a few metres above the ground.
"Been practising gymnastics?" Ophelia questions, her tone dripping in sarcasm.
Derek ignores her, instead glancing over his shoulder to Scott, who is watching with a little less reluctance compared to a few minutes before. "And I won't blame you if you don't follow me."
"I'm just the backup," she defends herself with a grin. She watches for a few further seconds as Scott and Derek clamber up the ladders and different building materials, then shakes her head at the effort. "Yeah, I'm not doing that."
Just before he reaches the top of the building, Scott's eyebrows furrow as he checks up on his friend behind him, only to find her nowhere in sight. "What the fuck... Fi, where are you?" Before Derek can ask him what he is going on about, his eyes widen in shock when he turns back around to see Ophelia waiting by the ledge of the rooftop and picking the rest of her mostly chipped off nail polish. "W-How-You-"
"I jumped."
Scott blinks rapidly, shaking his head a few times to make sure he hadn't just imagined it. "Sorry, you jumped?"
"Yup. I just jumped. Your way would've taken too long."
Even though both males had known of Ophelia's hybrid status for a while, majority of her abilities and powers still leave them dumfound. Whether it was the enhanced healing that seemed to move at triple the pace of their own rate, the almost terrifying speed that came from her vampiric nature, or just how she survived off blood for a living, Derek and Scott would never get used to the fact that a creature such as a vampire-werewolf hybrid even exists in the first place.
Spinning around, the girl with the dirty blonde hair points at the limestone wall staring at them being the clear entrance to the bank vault they need to get into. "Can I punch it? I want to punch it," she rambles, her eyes shining with excitement.
Shaking his head in amusement, Derek doesn't need to think over his answer because of how keen she had been yesterday. "Go for it."
She grunts softly as she leans her body weight into the action, and her fist cleanly goes through the wall on her first attempt. Ophelia is oblivious to how the two werewolves behind her share a look in disbelief. Due to how the hole she had created is rather small, she ends up kicking the stone until the gap is big enough for her and the two behind her to fit through.
All three miss the line of mountain ash that has yet to be sealed off.
Upon entering the bank vault, Ophelia immediately picks up on two heartbeats and the familiar stench of fear. Even though she can't directly see Boyd and the unknown female, she knows that their lust for blood, or to kill in general, is skyrocketing through the roof. It's easier to distinguish something if you've already experienced it before. She grabs onto both Derek and Scott's arms in warning, holding them a considerable distance away from the growls emanating from somewhere in the room. "Just stay here until we can see them," she whispers.
His eyes finding the large figure engulfed in darkness as he hides in the corner of the vault, Derek's voice softens as he calls out to his Beta. "Boyd?" Said werewolf slowly approaches the group out of the shadows, sweat coating his face and low growls muffled from his lips that are tightly pressed together. "Boyd, it's me. It's Derek."
Ophelia's eyebrows knit together in confusion at Boyd's behaviour. The primal rage that flares within his eyes makes him almost unrecognisable to his usual introverted self. That's not the biggest difference, though. It's the way he looks at his Alpha. He doesn't look at him with respect. Vernon Boyd looks like he wants to kill Derek Hale.
Scott quickly grabs his buzzing phone in his pocket and answers it, his eyes never leaving the potential threat in front of him. "Stiles, now is not the best time," he greets his best friend.
The Stilinski's frantic voice that is filled with urgency causes Boyd's head to snap over to Scott, his breathing still shallow and uneven. "Scott! Scott! No, listen to me, okay? Look, you gotta get outta there. Look, the walls of the vault are made from a mineral called hecatolite- it scatters the moonlight."
Ophelia's entire body freezes at the word uttered to Scott. Her immediate response to the lesser-known name of the dreaded gemstone that had caused so many problems in Mystic Falls is for her head to throw back in frustration and her claws to flick out on instinct. When Derek hears a snarl that doesn't originate from Boyd, he spares a glance at Ophelia to find her glaring daggers at the phone raised to Scott's ear. "Moonstone," she hisses. "Oh, for fuck's sake!"
"What does that mean?" Scott asks, not understanding the sudden change in his friend's attitude.
Derek slowly raises his hand to Boyd, keeping his eyes locked with the younger wolf's. "We're here to get you out, okay?" The response he receives is only another growl.
"It keeps the moonlight out," Ophelia murmurs over to Scott, whose eyes slightly widen as he begins to understand exactly what is going on here.
"Look, it keeps the moonlight out, okay?" Stiles repeats, not having heard her brief explanation. "They haven't felt the full moon in months-"
"Okay, think of it like the gladiators in the Roman Colosseum," Peter jumps in, his worry for his nephew and the female that he had grown an attachment for only increasing by the second. "They used to starve the lions for three days, making them more vicious, more out of control. Deucalion has kept them from shifting for three months, diminishing their tolerance to it."
"Scott, they're gonna be stronger-"
"More savage. More bloodthirsty... Scott, they're the lions! They're the starved lions, and you, Fi, and Derek just stepped into the fucking Colosseum," Peter finishes grimly.
Sharing a look with Ophelia who has been listening the entire time, Scott nervously swallows as his eyes catch the moonlight beginning to shine through the hole the girl had made minutes earlier. However, Derek on the other hand hasn't heard a word, too focused on his Beta who looks like he could murder any one of them at any given second. "Derek, we got a problem," Scott quickly says.
Ophelia scoffs. "Problem? Screw these two, we need to get the fuck out of here right now!"
"She's right..."
The new voice brings the trio's attention back over to Boyd, where another figure steps into the light. The sight of the girl causes Derek's heart to drop into his stomach. "Cora?"
Ophelia's eyes narrow as she looks between the newly introduced female and the Hale. "Who the fuck is Cora?"
"Cora?" Derek repeats quietly in disbelief.
In a similar physical state to Boyd, Cora breathes heavily as she stares at the older man, her dark hair coated in sweat brushing over her eyelids. "Derek... get out. Get out now!"
"Yeah, I like her thought process," Ophelia agrees, her eyes flicking between the two. She doesn't even give her normal violent react when Scott nudges her side, and she follows his line of sight onto the floor, neither of them hearing Stiles desperately call out to them on the phone. "Sunshine, a few people are going to die tonight," she mutters grimly to Derek, her eyes locked onto the thick line of black ash. "And it ain't gonna to be me."
Then, the door to the bank vault swings open, light flooding inside as a woman steps into view. Ophelia recognises her from the high school, but she can't pinpoint exactly what job title she holds. Her eyes widen when the woman crouches down, with just their luck, mountain ash in hand. Marin Morrell joins the small gap together; officially trapping all five supernatural creatures inside the small room.
𝘏𝘪 𝘮𝘺 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘭𝘪𝘦𝘴!
𝘚𝘰 𝘐 𝘦𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘥 𝘶𝘱 𝘸𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘸𝘩𝘰𝘭𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘪𝘯 𝘢 𝘧𝘦𝘸 𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘳𝘴, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦𝘯'𝘵 𝘦𝘥𝘪𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘪𝘵 𝘦𝘵𝘤. 𝘐𝘵 𝘮𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘣𝘦 𝘥𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘵𝘰𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘳𝘰𝘸, 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘪𝘧 𝘯𝘰𝘵, 𝘰𝘩 𝘸𝘦𝘭𝘭 🙃
𝘐 𝘩𝘢𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘢𝘥𝘥 𝘖𝘧𝘪 𝘨𝘦𝘵𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘱𝘪𝘴𝘴𝘦𝘥 𝘰𝘧𝘧 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘏𝘦𝘤𝘢𝘵𝘰𝘭𝘪𝘵𝘦, 𝘤𝘢𝘶𝘴𝘦 𝘺𝘬, 𝘒𝘪𝘵𝘵𝘺 𝘒𝘢𝘵 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘴𝘵𝘶𝘧𝘧.
𝘐 𝘨𝘰𝘵𝘵𝘢 𝘢𝘥𝘥 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘓𝘺𝘥𝘴 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴, 𝘤𝘢𝘶𝘴𝘦 𝘸𝘦'𝘳𝘦 𝘣𝘢𝘳𝘦𝘭𝘺 𝘴𝘦𝘦𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘩𝘦𝘳... 𝘉𝘶𝘵 𝘴𝘩𝘦'𝘭𝘭 𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘣𝘢𝘣𝘭𝘺 𝘤𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘖𝘧𝘪 𝘢𝘣𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘥𝘦𝘢𝘥 𝘣𝘰𝘥𝘺 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘴𝘩𝘪𝘵, 𝘴𝘰 𝘴𝘩𝘦'𝘭𝘭 𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘳𝘢𝘤𝘬 𝘉𝘰𝘺𝘥 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘊𝘰𝘳𝘢 𝘵𝘰 𝘩𝘦𝘭𝘱. 𝘉𝘦𝘴𝘵 𝘧𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘯𝘥 𝘥𝘶𝘵𝘪𝘦𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘢𝘭𝘭.
𝘐 𝘢𝘭𝘴𝘰 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘢𝘴𝘬, 𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘥𝘰 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘬 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘣𝘰𝘰𝘬 𝘴𝘰 𝘧𝘢𝘳? 𝘐𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘺𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘨𝘶𝘺𝘴 𝘸𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝙡𝙞𝙠𝙚 𝘵𝘰 𝘴𝘦𝘦?
𝘋𝘰𝘯'𝘵 𝘣𝘦 𝘢 𝘴𝘪𝘭𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳!
𝘓𝘪𝘷 𝘹𝘹
(gif by hazzawckd)