CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
RUNNING IN THE HALLS
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Stiles, Scott, and I held the doors closed. My eyes were still wide. We had just watched Derek Hale get murdered. Sure, I hated the guy as much as the next person, but that didn't mean I wanted him to be murdered.
"Lock it, lock it," Scott let out.
"Do I look like I have the key?" Stiles shouted.
"Grab something," Scott shouted back.
I gave him a look. "Like what?"
"Anything," Scott replied.
Suddenly, Stiles got this far away look on his face, like he had an idea. He stumbled, but got up and began looking through the small window imbedded in the door. Scott and I scrambled up. We pushed out heads together, both trying to see out the other window. Our eyes darted around until we found what our Adderall-consuming friend was looking at. Down on the steps, was the pair of bolt cutters Stiles used to break the locks so we could get in less than ten minutes ago. We both figured out what he was getting at. Retrieving them and shoving them through the handles. But there was one problem.
They were outside. Where the Alpha was.
Stiles reached for the door handles, only to have Scott put a hand on his shoulders.
"No," Scott said.
"Yes," Stiles says, shrugging the hand off.
I shook my head rapidly. "Stiles no, don't."
He didn't listen, slipping through a crack between the slightly open doors. He shut it behind him, leaving Scott and I inside. I gulped.
"He's crazy," I mumbled.
Stiles quickly looked around, before making his way down the steps. As of right now, he was in the clear. He bent down to pick the bolt cutters up, when something moved. On all fours, the Alpha emerged from behind Stiles' jeep, red eyes glinting with evil. The eyes I had seen in the movie store. Less than ten feet away from him.
I quickly directed Scott's attention to it. His eyes widened as we shared a look. Within seconds, we were screaming.
"Stiles!" Scott and I screamed, banging on the glass. He turned around, raising an eyebrow.
We kept banging as he turned around. He took one look at the Alpha, before getting up. He sprinted up the steps, and threw himself through the door. He slammed it shut, jamming the bolt cutters through the handles.
"You freaking idiot," I screamed, smacking his arm. "You could have been killed."
"Ow," he muttered, rubbing his arm.
And then I threw my arms around him. "Don't ever do something like that again."
The entire time, Scott had been ignoring us, eyes trained on the outside. Stiles and I detached, joining the werewolf at the window.
The Alpha was gone.
"Where the hell is it?" I asked.
Stiles turned on the flashlight Scott had been holding.
"Where'd it go?" Scott questioned.
The three of us, breathing heavily, backed away from the door.
"That won't hold will it?" he asked.
"Probably not."
We slowly turned around, looking down the endless hallway. It was pitch black, which made everything only scarier. Suddenly, a distant howl rang out. And then we were running. We charged down the hall, skidding into the nearest open class. Both boys immediately ran for the teacher's desk. They began shoving it, until Stiles put up a hand, stopping them.
"Stop," he said. He looked behind him, then back at us. "The doors not gonna keep it out."
"I know," Scott replied.
"It's your boss," Stiles said suddenly.
Scott looked freaked out. "What?"
"Deaton. The Alpha. Your boss," Stiles pointed.
"What? No," Scott told him.
"Yes, murdering psycho werewolf," Stiles whisper shouted.
"It can't be," Scott said.
"Oh, come on," I exclaimed quietly. "He disappears and then ten minutes later that thing shows up to throw Derek like twenty feet through the air. Not really convenient timing Scott."
"It's not him," Scott defended.
"He killed Derek," Stiles said.
"Derek's not dead," Scott panicked. "He can't be dead."
"Blood spurted out of his mouth okay. That doesn't really qualify as a minor injury. He's dead and we're next."
"Loving the positive thinking Stiles," I said dryly. He shot me a look. I shrugged.
"What do we do?" Scott asked.
"We get to my jeep. We get out of here," Stiles sighed.
"And you seriously consider quitting your job," I told Scott. "We good?"
Scott didn't reply. Stiles took the flashlight, making his way to the window. Scot followed, about to attempt to open it.
"They don't open," I spoke from behind them. "The school's climate controlled."
"We break it," Scott supplied.
"Which will make a lot of noise," Stiles sighed.
"Then," Scott looked around the parking lot. "We run really fast."
"Really fast," I muttered, until a familiar car in the lot caught my eye. "Stiles, what's wrong with the hood of your jeep?"
Even from here, I could see the powder blue metal of the hood pushed back like it was meant to do that.
"What do you mean? Nothing wrong," Stiles said. Scott slightly edged his way beside me, trying to see what I saw.
"It's bent," I told him.
"What, like dented?" he panicked, sidling up next to Scott.
Scott shook his head. "No, she means bent."
"What the hell happened?" Stiles asked.
The answer we got was something being hurdled at the window. The three of us threw ourselves to the ground, as millions of glass fragments rained down on us. The breaker of the window skidded across the floor to a halt. It was probably a bit bigger than my head, with torn wires protruding from it. It resembled a car part.
I leaned my head up against the wall we had our backs pressed to. "I'm gonna take a wild guess and say that that's a part of your car," I said to Stiles.
"That's my battery," Stiles grumbled, shining the light on it. He began getting up. Scott dragged him back down.
"We have to move," Stiles told us.
"He could be right outside," Scott whispered worriedly.
"He is right outside," I whisper shouted at him. God, Scott was slow.
"Just let me take a look," Scott said, clambering to his feet slowly. Stiles and I sighed, but nonetheless followed his lead.
We looked out the window. Nothing.
"Move now?" Stiles asked.
"Move now," Scott and I said in unison.
We slowly got up, making our way out of the room and into the hall.
"This way," Scott said, beginning to walk down the hall.
"No, no," Stiles said, yanking the curly haired teen back. "Somewhere without windows."
"We're in a school Stiles! Every place in this freaking building has windows!" I said exasperated, throwing my hands up into the air.
"Okay, somewhere with less windows," Stiles said pointedly.
The three of us stood there in silence, running through a list of all the rooms in our heads. Scott looked up.
"The locker room," he breathed.
"Yeah," Stiles agreed, grabbing my arm as we began heading in that direction.
Every so often we would look behind us, only to be met with the darkness. It was really creepy being here at night. During the day, the building was filled with light and people. People who would never guess that three of their classmates would be stalked by a bloodthirsty monster with red eyes and claws. Claws that could rake through flesh. And the eyes that were haunting my dreams when I wasn't imagining kissing Stiles. Those dreams had become more frequent and it scared the hell out me.
We eventually made it to the locker room. Shutting the door behind us, we ventured deeper into the near windowless room.
"Call your dad," Scott told Stiles.
"And tell him what?" Stiles asked, scanning the light over almost everything in the room.
"Anything. There's a gas leak, a fire, whatever," Scott shrugged. "If that thing sees the parking lot filled with cop cars, it'll take off."
"What if it doesn't?" Stiles probed. "What if it goes completely terminator and kills every cop in sight? Including my dad!"
"They have guns," Scott pointed out.
I shook my head. "Yeah, and Derek had to be shot with a wolfsbane laced bullet and he was still running around making threats. Remember that?"
"Then we have to... we have to," Scott trailed off nervously. "We have to find a way out. We have to just run for it."
"But there's nothing around the school for at least a mile," Stiles sighed.
"What about Derek's car?" Scott asked suddenly. Stiles and I remained silent, mulling over the idea.
"That could work," I said.
"Yeah. We go outside, get the keys off his body, ugh," he shivered momentarily. "And then take his car."
"And him," Scott said determinedly.
"Yeah, whatever," Stiles told him, before turning to leave. He reached for the door handle, but Scott caught his wrist.
"What now?" I asked.
"I think I heard something," Scott said quietly.
"Like what?" Stiles whisper yelled.
Scott didn't reply, looking around. The three of us began backing up slowly. Scott grabbed the flashlight, turning it off.
"Hide," he said suddenly.
Stiles eyes scanned his surroundings, before yanking on a locker door.
"No, Stiles," Scott groaned. But it was too late, Stiles was already wedging himself into the small space.
Scott sighed, opening the nearest locker. As he was getting in, I began looking around, scanning rows and rows of lockers all with locks on them.
But finally, in a stroke of luck, the last one on the end had a lock on it, but someone had left it hanging open. Quickly I wrenched the padlock off of the door, pulling it open and squeezing myself in side. It was a tight space, but once I was securely (yet very uncomfortably) inside, I shut the door. The hook for someone's coat was digging into my back, but I held my breath, terrified of what was possibly coming for us.
Pinned to the cold metal, I tried to imagine myself somewhere else, anywhere else, and despite the intensity of the situation, my brain decided to drift off to Stiles Land. Like really? This was definitely not the time for that.
Yet, even though I realized that, it didn't stop my subconscious from playing that dream over and over again. That entire dream was pure torture. I could sense the passion, and I could sense the love. But I couldn't feel anything. I wanted to know what his lips would feel like against mine. I wanted to know what it was like to kiss my best friend. And I wasn't sure if that should scare me.
From the corner of the locker room, I could hear the door open. My eyes widened. If the Alpha was coming, we were done for.
Through the slits in the locker, I watched the surrounding area with baited breath. A dark figure loomed, entering the locker room. I gulped quietly, trying to hold my breath. My eyes followed the dark silhouette as it glided across the floor. Eyes walked past, taking a casual look in. It kept going and I let out a sigh of relief. The second the breath left my lips, the eyes were back.
We were dead.
The locker door was opened. The janitor. Upon seeing us, he let out a scream. From behind him, the other locker clanged open, revealing Stiles. Scott and I tumbled out of our respective lockers, into the room
"Shh, shh, quiet," Stiles told the man.
"Quiet my ass! What the hell are you trying to do? Kill me?" he yelled. "All three of you, out!"
"Alright just listen for half a second, okay?" Stiles said.
"Not okay!" the janitor wailed. "Get the hell out of here, right now!"
He began shoving us, Scott and Stiles telling him he had to listen. I was just muttering about how I didn't like being man-handled. He shoved us into the hall.
"Just one second to explain!" Stiles begged.
"Just shut up and go!" the janitor ordered. And then he was yanked back, and the door was slammed. A feral growl rang out.
The man was shoved against the door, blood smattering the windows. My eyes widened at the sounds of his screams. I let out a scream. Stiles and Scott shared a quick look, before Stiles yanked me into his arms. He wrapped them around me, burying my face into his chest. But it didn't stop me from hearing the screams.
I could hear Scott jiggling the door knob, trying to yank the door open. Stiles let go of me, yanking Scott away from the door.
"No, stop," Stiles told him, shoving him off down the hall. He grabbed my hand, yanking me along with them.
As I ran behind them, I took a quick glance behind me. I saw the door fall down to the floor, the man on top of it. Within seconds, he was yanked back into the room. I let a small cry.
"Just keep running!" Stiles yelled back to me. I nodded, my heart pounding in my chest.
This was no longer a night trip to the school. This was a nightmare.
Only this? This was very real.
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The three of us were still running, meeting a dead end. But it had a door. We ran towards it, hands outstretched to put it out of our way. Only to find that it wouldn't budge.
"Oh come on!" I yelled, pushing against it.
There was a loud clang noise from behind it.
"What the hell?" Stiles asked.
Scott shoved his head between the small space that we could force open. "It's a dumpster."
"He pushed it in front of the door," Stiles stated.
"To lock us in," I finished. "Just fan-freaking-tastic."
Stiles began shoving at the door, trying to force it open. But it was no use.
"Stiles stop!" Scott yelled, dragging the hazel eyed boy back.
"It's no use," I told him. "Even if we could get the door open, the Alpha could be here by then."
"I'm not dying here; I'm not dying at school!" Stiles said, agitated. We ended up walking the way we came.
"We're not going to die," Scott told him.
"God, what is it doing? What does it want?" Stiles let out.
Scott was visibly freaking out as much as the rest of us. "Me. Derek says it's stronger with a pack."
"Oh, great, a psychotic werewolf who's into teamwork. That's beautiful," Stiles said sarcastically.
While they were still talking, I was looking out the window. A figure on top of the school, across from us caught my eye. I clamped onto Stiles arm.
"What?" he asked, trying to remove my death grip from him.
I pointed out the window. Their eyes widened as the saw what I did. The Alpha began running along the top of the school, trying to get to where we were. The three of us shared a look, before gunning it down the hall.
From behind us, the window shattered, glass tinkling to the ground.
"Don't look back!" Stiles yelled to me.
I could only nod as we ran from this vicious creature. The guys made a sharp turn, opening a door. I slid in behind them, practically jumping down the stairs. As always, my shortness was an issue. The guys were about 5'10" each. I was 5'2". Meaning that every five steps my short legs took, matched at least one of theirs. They were at least five or six feet ahead of me as we raced into another hall.
Once again, we were in a room filled with lockers. Stiles and Scott ran behind a giant cluster of them. I ran to follow, but something jumped out in front of me. The Alpha. I slipped, falling on my butt. A sharp pain flowed throughout my backside as I crawled backwards, only to have it stalk forwards, letting a guttural sounding growl out of its throat. I was trapped.
STILES POV
I pressed my back against the lockers, Scott beside me. A growl was heard, and Scott motioned for me to go the opposite direction.
We ventured deeper into the room, a door open.
"Alright, we have to do something," I told him.
"Like what?" Scott asked.
"Kill it, hurt it, put mental anguish on it, something," I said.
We stood there, as another snarl rang out. This time though, it was followed by a scream. A very feminine scream. My eyes widened.
"Where's Carson?" Scott asked.
Our eyes darted around. The scream had to have been hers. She wasn't with us.
I took a step forward, preparing to go get her. Scott clamped a hand down on my arm.
"You can't," he whisper shouted.
"I'm not letting the girl I love get eaten alive Scott," I shot back. A whimper was heard. Then a howl.
I reached my hand into my pocket, feeling around for my keys. It wasn't like my jeep was going to help us anyways.
"No, what are you doing?" Scott asked as the keys jingled around.
"Shh," I told him, as I pulled them from my pocket. Please let this work.
I tossed them into the room, before shoving Scott and I back into the darkness. Just like I hoped, the Alpha took the bait, running right into the supply closet. I quickly pushed the door closed, pressing all my weight against it.
"The desk," I yelled at Scott. "Come on the desk!"
He understood what I was getting at, shoving the desk forward. We placed it in front of the door.
"I'm gonna go get Carson," I said to him, as the beast shoved against the door endlessly. He nodded, trying to keep the desk against the door.
I walked, following the sounds of Carson's whimpers. I found her, huddled up in the corner. Her head was hidden between her knees, her hair surrounding her like a curtain.
"Carson?" I asked gently.
She looked up, and I could see the tears glistening in her eyes. Seeing it was me, she launched herself off the ground and into my arms.
"Oh my God," she said.
"You're okay, you're okay," I muttered. I just wanted to stay there, protecting her. "Did it hurt you?"
"N-No," she stammered, wiping the tears from her eyes. "It was like the night at the video store. When I was trying to help Jackson. It just looked at me. Like I was something to eat... where is it?"
"Scott and I trapped it in a supply closet," I stated. "I threw my—"
I was cut off by a giant crash. Scott dashed in.
"It's in the ceiling!" he panted out. Above us, the ceiling panels were bowing in. The Alpha was definitely too heavy for it. Meaning that it wasn't going to hold it up there forever.
And once again, we were running.
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