Black Water ↠ Stiles Stilinski [Teen Wolf, Vol. One]

Night School

Disclaimer: 'Teen Wolf' isn't mine. Shocking, right? But it's true. If there are any similarities in content or dialogue, it has probably originated with the show.

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AHHH NIGHT SCHOOL CHAPTER! Okay, so action-wise this chapter is pretty similar to version one, but I feel like the prose has improved exponentially and I hope you agree!

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Chapter 22 - Night School

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Death could take many shapes. Too many. So many there was no way to know what to expect. Sometimes it would roll up to the party as a gaunt figure enveloped in black robes, sickle in hand. Every once in a while it looked like a three-headed dog. In some forms it was comforting, all white-feathered wings and well-tuned harps. She'd known death to look like a puddle of spilled orange juice. Tonight death stood eight feet tall, had skin covered with thick black fur, and stared at you through eyes that burned like a pair of red suns. Charlie hadn't lied to Derek—she knew what she was getting into. She knew that death numbered among their opponents. She just hadn't expected death to show up quite so soon.

The car battery sat at the center of the classroom, shards of glass surrounding it. The wires sticking from each corner were familiar. Black insulation and red, positive and negative feeds, she knew exactly where each piece belonged. Give her ten minutes and some electrical tape, and that engine would run. But they didn't have ten minutes. Their time was up.

"We have to move."

Stiles's urgent whisper rushed past her ear. The gentle brush of hair moving against the back of her neck sent a shiver rippling down her spine. Stiles must have felt it, huddled together as they were beneath the windows. He nudged her reassuringly with his elbow. His eyes were fixed on her profile. She couldn't bring herself to raise her eyes from the battery.

"Seriously, guys," Stiles insisted, his voice strengthened by resolve. "We're sitting ducks here. We've gotta move."

The next nudge was firm, and jolted Charlie out of her anxiety-ridden stupor. "Yeah, alright," she nodded. "Let's move."

Scott threw out an arm, pushing them both back to the wall out of sight of anything lurking beyond the glass. "Wha—he could be right outside!"

"He is right outside," Stiles countered.

Scott's eyes jumped between Stiles and the frayed wires of the car battery, finally settling on the row of windows above their heads. "Just—just let me take a look."

Still pressed to the wall, Scott shifted to his knees. His head slowly rose and he peeked over the window ledge. Swearing under her breath, Charlie followed suit. Behind the glass's climate-controlled seal, the parking lot was completely vacant. Not a werewolf in sight, murderous or otherwise. "Where's Derek?"

"I don't see him," Scott murmured. "I don't see anything—he must be behind the Jeep."

Charlie's next thought was for escape. Three cars. The Jeep's battery had decided to take Algebra II, the Camaro's keys were shoved in Derek's pocket, and her Impala.... Charlie's nose found itself pressed to the glass, the eyes above it glaring down at the asphalt below. The Impala, stationed off at the center of the parking lot, sat lower than usual. The base of the tires were slack and deflated. Her fingers gripped the window sill tighter as unmitigated rage displaced fear. "That son of a bitch slashed my tires!" she growled. "There was no way we'd get to my car—it's way too far off! That's not strategic, it's freaking petty!"

Stiles grabbed the back of her jacket, yanking her down to the floor. "Okay, Charlie, that's so not the priority right now." He looked up to Scott, whose eyes were still scanning the lot. "Anything?"