Pack Mentality // s. stilinski

Fifteen ✔️

Stiles took a sharp turn onto a street that wasn't lit aside from the murky light coming from the jeep's headlights, and Cadmus was thrown aside in the back seat, his shoulder colliding with the window. "Would it kill you to be a careful driver?" Cadmus asked under his breath, rubbing at his shoulder. It wasn't that he was sore, but it was more the remaining memory of the claw marks that had shredded the skin there previously.  

"It actually might," Stiles shot back through his gritted teeth, white-knuckled hands gripping the steering wheel as he pressed his foot against the gas pedal harshly. He was, of course, making reference to the kanima that they were now locked in a chase with, following close behind a rabid Derek Hale.

Grouchily, Cadmus took his hand off of his shoulder. "Sarcasm, Stiles," he mumbled, glaring out of the window. The outside was dark and all mushed together, blended up in one big black and blue and gray blur thanks to the speed they were going. The bumpy road ahead of them lit up a dusty brown until is changed back into concrete, and then the teenagers watched as a building rose up out of nowhere, and they saw Derek flip over a chainlink fence to follow the kanima into the concrete monster. 

They had no idea what the place was supposed to be, but Cadmus imagined it looked a little bit like a single-floor parking garage. Just as they pulled to a stop in front of the fence, Stiles glanced at Cadmus in the rearview mirror. "What do we do now?" he asked in a hurried voice. "Sco-" Stiles hardly turned towards the passenger seat before realizing that Scott had already jumped from the car, and both he and Cadmus turned to watch Scott flip himself dramatically over the fence after Derek. 

"Damn," said Cadmus. He pulled himself out from the back, sitting in the passenger seat next to Stiles. He sent the boy a look. "Do you think I should...?"

Stiles gulped. Cadmus agreed. "I mean..." Stiles couldn't seem to finish his sentence. With an awkward expression on his face, he sighed, "Probably." Cadmus ran a hand down his face with a dull nod and turned to the backseat, leaning to grab the kitchen knife he'd swiped from Scott's house. It was already bloodied, he thought, so what was the harm in keeping a weapon? He would buy another for Melissa later. 

Cadmus pushed himself out of the car, his fingers wrapped tightly around the knife. "Hey, Cadmus," Stiles said and he paused to look back into the car. The pale boy looked nervous as he said, "Be careful." The younger Argent felt his face heat up and he turned away, nodding when Stiles couldn't see his expression. 

"Yeah," he said awkwardly. "You know me." He hurried after Scott then, swiftly climbing over the fence and landing on the other side. Resisting the urge to send a look back at the faded blue jeep behind him he ran, following the snarls and sounds of fighting. 

It was just kicking and roaring until the scrabble was interrupted by the unmistakable crack of a gunshot. There were six of them, one right after another, and the animalistic noises stopped as the shots reverberated off the concrete walls of the building. Cadmus stepped aside and pressed himself against a pillar, eyes wide. 

There was only one person he knew who did their hunting with a gun. 

He bit his lip softly to keep his breathing quiet as he peeked around the side of the pillar, watching his own father fiddle with his gun, a stoic grimace on his face. He faced away from the body of the kanima. Cadmus saw that the shapeshifter sported six new holes in its torso, six new trails of blood appearing. It appeared to be dead, if only for the moment.

The scene was lit by the headlights from his father's car, so it was easy to notice when the kanima shifted and pushed itself off of the ground, looming behind his father. Cadmus drew in a breath that was louder than he would have liked. His lungs suddenly felt heavy.