e i g h t e e n

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Unknown Man's POV

Once inside, he approached a middle-aged woman with dark brown curly hair and dark eyes. "Hello, sir, can I help you?" She smiled at me, and I noticed the stress lines in her forehead. I notice her nametag: Melissa.

I smile back and place a hand on my gun, which just so happens to be loaded with wolfsbane bullets. "I'm here for Stiles Stilinski. I'm a family friend, and I've heard about his recent admittance," I lie through my teeth, but the woman just looks suspicious.

Melissa stands up from her seat at her computer and asks, "Could I have a name?"

What could she know? She's a human nurse that works at a hospital. There is no reason to be suspicious of a man wanting to see his 'relative'. I give her a sly smirk before pulling my gun out of the holster. "How about you just give me his room number, and we'll call it even?"

Her eyes widen, and she immediately yells, "Scott!" I cock the gun, and she holds her hands up in front of her. "Okay, okay, just let me look it up on the computer," she whispers, and I can hear her heart beating rapidly in her chest.

Not three seconds later, a teenage boy comes running down the hallway. "Scott McCall, True Alpha. What an honor," I mock with a smirk.

He gives an alarmed glance to the gun before returning his eyes on mine. "Who are you?"

What a rookie. He doesn't even know how the game works. "What is up with you and your mother asking such useless questions? All I'm here for is Stiles, and then Beacon Hills will never be bothered by either of us ever again," I sarcastically bargain, and Derek comes running down the hallway.

"This is a public place. Put the gun down," Derek demands, and I laugh.

"Do you really think I care?" I ask before planting a bullet in Scott's arm and one in Derek's leg. They fall to the ground with groans of pain, and I grin wickedly. "Oops, better luck next time, Alphas." Then I turn back to Melissa, who is watching the scene unfold with wide eyes and is barely restraining herself from running over to her son. "Nevermind. I'll just find it myself," I sigh and walk down the hallway, twirling my gun around my finger.

"Who are you?" Emily demands, and I laugh at her in a cruel manner, shaking my head.

"Silly girl: your energy doesn't work through my clothing. Believe me, you've tried before," I reply before turning to Connor and roll my eyes. "Go get 'em boys," I command, and my men appear out of everywhere, distracting all of The S Pack long enough for me to slip into Stiles' room.

His screams have calmed, and he's resorted to short and shallow pants instead. He seems to be conscious now as his head moves for his eyes to land on me. "I've told you before," he pants, "you can't take my power." His face scrunches in pain, and I finally notice Peter in his seat against the wall.

Funny, he doesn't seem to be willing to risk his life for the teenager struggling to sit up in his bed.

"Go on, Stiles. Try and use your magic to defeat me this time. I think you'll find it a little bit harder," I mock, throwing a lavender colored dust in the air designed to prevent the use of magic.

I smirk, and he grimaces in my direction. "Look, I don't want to hurt you, but I will if you don't use your microscopic excuse for a brain and break into an incessant run to Mexico, taking all of your blind mice with you," Stiles warns, and I grin viciously.

But, I've had enough. His big mouth is going to get him in trouble one day. Too bad for him today is that day. I take another step toward him before I feel myself freeze. I couldn't move, but it wasn't like I toppled to the ground either. It was like time was frozen, but I was aware.

The noise in the halls seemed to have come to a halt as well. I wonder how large of an area is affected. Then I switch my gaze back to Stiles. He winces as he stands, leaning on the bedside table for support. "I told you, sir." He hisses the formal phrase with a sarcastic tongue. "You can't take my power, not the way that I acquired it. Now, I have to go heal my friends that you so cold-heartedly shot with your ameteur bullets." I try to open my mouth to retort, but it seems frozen shut. That son of a- a sharp agony shot through my no-no area, and if I wasn't frozen, I would have groaned in pain. He smirks, and I immediately know that he did it. "You know, you're lucky I'm not a female. Otherwise, I probably wouldn't have had sympathy and separated them from your body," he says with a smirk as though he's my hero. "You should be thanking me." Then he pauses in false realization. "Oh wait a minute... you can't."

Then before he left, he took a black permanent marker and approached me.

What does he think he's doing? He uncaps the marker and begins to draw on my face: my upper lip to the middle of my cheeks to my chin, and in between my eyebrows. He isn't... Oh but he is. He stepped back and grinned. "I have no regrets," he declared before limping past me.

Anger fills my body as he stumbles out of the room.

This is not over. Not in the least.

Well, as soon as he unfreezes everything and- wait, I'm screwed. He's going to have me when he unfreezes it. Then my mind went blank, and I suddenly couldn't tell how much time was passing.

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