Teen Wolf: The Longer I Live (A Sterek Fan Fiction)

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Fan Fiction  |  House: Booksie Classic

Chapter 20 (v.1) - A Skin-Walker Hunting We Will Go Part 2

Submitted: September 14, 2012

Reads: 317

A A A | A A A

Submitted: September 14, 2012



The rattle of Allison’s chains struck the floor as the extra weight made it impossible for her to run.  Stiles attempted to assist his sister but the manacles only ended up slowing them down.

“Damn!  Where’s a locksmith when you need one?” He commented.

“I’m sorry Stiles,” Allison whimpered.  “It’s my fault for letting Scott bite me.”

The hazel eyed teen hugged his sister.  “No, it’s not.  We’re going to find a way to cure you, I promise.”

“Shhh,” Laura signaled.  “I hear Derek and Peter still battling it out.”

She peeked around the corner of the hallway to see the two supernatural creatures locked in combat in the main corridor.  Wrestling for control, Derek managed to gain the upper hand as he shoved the skin-walker Peter against the set of school windows shattering the glass.  Feeling defeated, the evil shaman retreated into the night leaving a battered and bruised Spirit Wolf slowly limping toward his friends.

Laura smiled as the trio slowly made their way toward Derek.  Seeing the large wolf in the hallway, Allison hesitated before Stiles held her sister close and kissed her head.

“Don’t worry,” Stiles reassured her.  “That big doggie is my friend.  He’s the good one.”

Allison trusted his judgment as he looked in the kind golden eyes of the large animal and gradually approached the Spirit Wolf.  Unexpectedly, a searing pain crossed Stile’s temple.  Clutching his head, he could feel the evil coming.

Sensing her brother’s anguish, Allison grabbed his arm.  “Stiles, what’s the matter?”

“Allison, get out of the way!” He shouted.

Ferocity and rage filled the room as an enormous black beast crashed through the broken window.  Landing on all fours, the skin-walker bared its canine fangs and red eyes focusing all of its attention on Allison.

“It’s Scott!” She cried.

Yanking his sister toward the other side of the hallway, the pair attempted to race toward the doors behind them but the skin-walker leaped ahead of them blockading the door.  Scott heard the shuffle of a bullets being inserted into a rife as Laura raised her shotgun and targeted the beast.

“Scott!  Allison!  Get down!” Laura yelled.  The two cowered to the floor.

She fired the first around but the skin-walker dodged the silver bullet hitting the ceiling.  The second shot erupted which Scott easily avoided as it hit the corner lockers.  The supernatural monster roared in anger as heard the cocking of the shotgun.  Determined not to give the older woman a chance to shoot, he launched himself at Laura grabbing the weapon with his large claw and knocking the woman down.

Tossing the arsenal to side, he extended his razor sharp talons and brought his hand down on the Aeiwa shamaness.  Stiles watched helplessly as the Scott McCall monster pierced the chest of Laura Hale.

“NOOOOOOO!” The teen screamed.

Grabbing the silver dagger from his pocket, he raced behind the skin-walker, climbed the animal’s back, and ran the blade down the spine of the creature.  Scott howled in pain as the dagger’s poison began to run the venom through the monster’s black veins.  Digging a claw into arm of the hazel eyed teen, Scott tossed Stiles off his back sending him crashing toward the wall as he turned to open his jaws to chomp down and eliminate the young man.

With his lupine snout extended, the skin-walker growled as he prepared to tear apart the unarmed teenager.  Hunkering down on his hind legs, Scott started to leap.  Stiles shut his eyes before a flash of white and gray sped through propelling the black mass toward the other end of the hallway.  Streaks of crimson stained the tiled school floor as both the wounded Spirit Wolf and damaged skin-walker battled to the death.

Derek gripped the evil Scott’s hairy arm with his teeth but this only infuriated the skin-walker.  Raking a sharp claw through the guardian’s face it drew several lines of blood across the aningan’s snout forcing the lupine warrior to release him.  Weakened, the Spirit Wolf stumbled giving his enemy time to reorganize and plan his next attack.  Pushing Derek with his large paws, the monstrous Scott raked his razor, sharp talons across the chest of the aningan before throwing him hard across the row of metal lockers down the corridor.  Smashing into the metal, the Spirit Wolf collapsed unconscious.

Stiles scrambled to his feet as he observed Scott now targeting him.  Canine teeth dripped with saliva as red eyes sneered at him with fury.  Raising his back to display the nasty stab wound of the silver dagger embedded in his spine, the skin-walker lunged at the young man.  Stiles screamed.


The skin-walker turned to see Allison struggling to lift her hands which were weighted by the heavy manacles.  In her hand was Laura’s shotgun still full of leftover ammo.  Cocking the gun, she aimed it at the monster.

“GO TO HELL!” The Argent sibling screamed.

The beast leaped at her but she fired four rounds.  Each of which made contact with the skin-walker’s body.  The first silver bullet struck his shoulder.  The second hit his chest.  The third entered his stomach.  Yet it was the last that finished the job by blowing a hole in the middle of his head.  Blood poured of every gaping wound as the skin-walker fell back against the cold tile convulsing and shaking as the venom spread toward every area of his body.  The combination of the silver dagger added with the silver bullets finally brought down the beast.

Witnessing the bloodied, naked body of a lifeless Scott McCall, Allison slowly fell to the floor.  Dropping the empty shotgun, she began to sob as Stiles crawled over to his sister to comfort her.

Derek, naked and caked in blood, stumbled into the hallway.  Limping over to his dying offspring, he picked up his daughter as sirens screeched from the outside.  Gazing at Laura, the old woman smiled as a huge crimson stain formed on her dress.

“Laura…” Derek whispered.  Tears filled his eyes.  “I’m sorry…”

The old woman put a finger to his lips.  “Shhh, it’s okay, Daddy.  It was supposed to happen this way.  Tell Adrian, he’s the new shaman now.”  Her eyes began to close.  “I love you…Daddy…”  Then she was gone.

The Spirit Wolf kissed her forehead as he howled in anguish.  Carrying her body across the hallway, he passed by Stiles who held his sister close.

“Derek!  You have to get out here!” Stiles advised.  “My dad is here and so are the police!  They’ll wonder about all the dead bodies!”

“What about you?” The aningan asked.

“Don’t worry about me!  I’ll think of something!” Stiles reassured him.  “Now go!”

With the body of Laura Hale in his hands, Derek entered the emergency exit outside and vanished into the night shadows.  The doors ripped opened to reveal flashlights in the darkness.  Sheriff Argent raced through the corridor to see the blood splattered body of Scott McCall and his two children crouched in fear.

“Allison?” Sheriff Argent’s eyes began to tear up.

“Daddy!” Stiles’s sister cried out.

The Beacon Hills High law enforcement officer embraced his daughter as the chains still clung to her body.  He then reached over to Stiles and held him tight as well.

It seems things were going to be fine.


Half an hour later, a huge crowd gathered outside of the Beacon Hill High School.  Reporters waited outside hoping to interview the parties involved but were met with protestations by the sheriff’s department.  Victoria Argent waited patiently outside upon the news that both her children had been found.  The front entrance opened to reveal a dirty, unchained Allison Argent stepping outside to face the onlookers.

“Allison!” Victoria called out in tears.

“Mom!” Her daughter cried out.  Running toward the woman her birthed her, she held her mother close refusing to let go.

Stiles came out escorted by his father as they made their way past the slew of reporters bombarding them with questions.  Heading toward the ambulance, Sheriff Argent wanted to make sure his son was unharmed.

“Are you sure you don’t need the EMT to check you?” Sheriff Argent asked.

“Dad, I’m fine.” The teen reassured him.  “Except for getting beat up, I’m my old, sarcastic self.”

“Stiles, now remember, don’t talk to the reporters,” his father advised.  “And don’t say anything.  I’m bringing in the best lawyers in to prove that Scott McCall and his mother had something to do with your sister’s abduction.”

“Is there anything else?” Stiles sounded miffed.

“Yeah, one more thing,” noted the sheriff.  He pulled his son close and embraced him tight.  Stroking his bald spot, he patted the hazel eye teen on the back.  “I’m so proud of you.”

Stiles could feel himself tearing up.  He could not believe his father had admitted that to him.  An overwhelming joy washed over him.

“Thanks Dad,” the brown haired lad smiled.

“Now I’m having a squad car escort you, your sister, and mother home,” said Sheriff Argent.  “This is going to be a happy homecoming.”

Stiles could not agree more.


After the next few days, it seemed things in the town of Beacon Hills started getting back to the way things were.  Less and less, the reporters began to shift their attention from the alleged kidnappers Scott and Melissa McCall to more newsworthy stories like covering the latest Walmart and Costco store openings.  Thanks in part of Adrian Harris’s quick thinking, he managed to leave an anonymous tip to the sheriff’s department to where the McCalls were staying at.  Sheriff Argent and his team raided an abandoned warehouse where they found scraps of bloody clothing and personal items belonging to their victims like Jackson Whittemore.

In addition, Sheriff Argent discovered a rap sheet linking Scott and his mother to several mysterious killings from the east coast.  Determining that the duo were a mother and son serial killing team, the media bought the story and considered the case closed.  Even Allison corroborated with her interpretation of her abduction as the motive behind these two disturbed individuals.  Her peers believed her harrowing survival story which only increased her popularity points even more.  In either case, it seemed that things were returning to normal.

Coincidentally, the strange beast witnessed during the half time hour of the lacrosse game seemed to be ignored by all the residents of Beacon Hills.  Believing the wild animal had lost its way out of the woods, the townsfolk theorized that it went back to home in the forest leaving a few skeptics to discuss the matter on several paranormal forums.  Only a few like Stiles, Danny, Allison, and even Adrian Harris knew the real truth but none were saying anything.

Meanwhile, Stiles had refused to visit the Aeiwa after Laura’s death hoping to give Derek and the tribe some space while they mourn.  The older woman had become a hero saving the life of him and his sister and he wanted to honor her memory by wearing the silver pendant that she gave him.  Daydreaming in class, Stiles almost did hear his history teacher Mr. Harris ask him a question.

“Mr. Argent, can you tell me what year the Baltimore and Ohio railroad network first opening a line across the United States?”

Stiles suddenly woke up.  “Um…1492, Columbus sailed the ocean blue?”

As usual, the class laughed.

“Not quite, Mr. Argent.” Adrian Harris grinned.  “See me again after class.”

Stiles sighed as he waited for class to end.  The bell rang leaving him to pick up his things and head toward the history teacher’s desk.”

“Wazzup!” Stiles greeted.

“This!” Adrian pulled a paper from his desk and handed it to the brown haired teen.  On top of the young’s man’s test paper was the letter A.

“An A?” The hazel eyed lad exclaimed.  “Awesome!”

Adrian Harris smiled.  “Well you deserve it.  You’re finally applying yourself.  By the way, how is that project coming along.”

Stiles hesitated.  “About that…I haven’t really started writing it.  In light of the tragedy, I kind of put off visiting the reservation.”

“The Aeiwa miss you,” the history teacher nodded.  “You’re an honorary member now so you know you always have a second place to call home.  As the new shaman…”

“How’s Derek?”  Stiles wondered.

Adrian sighed.  “Derek is…Derek.  He’s not a man to show his feelings.  Though I know he’s hurting after losing Laura.  She was his only child so I can’t imagine what that feels like.  You’re happy to know that we buried her in the mountains.  She always wanted loved it there.”

“And Peter Hale?” He inquired with concern.  “Has anyone seen him?”

“I doubt Peter will show his face in this town,” Adrian shrugged.  “His pack has been defeated so he’s now a lone, helpless skin-walker.  He’s probably left Beacon Hills.”

“Is there anything I do to help?” Stiles offered.  “I mean to continue with this project?”

“Yes,” replied the history teacher.  “You could visit more often.  I’m sure the Spirit Wolf could use a friend.”

Stiles bade goodbye to Adrian as he headed out to class.  Walking across the hallway, he felt a hand on his shoulder and turned around to see Danny marching behind him.

“Hey,” the brown haired teen greeted the lacrosse goalie.

“Stiles, I just wanted to apologize,” said Danny.

“No Danny, I’m the one who was being an ass,” replied the hazel eyed young man.  “I should be the one saying sorry.”

“Accepted,” the Hawaiian teen responded without hesitation.  “How are you holding up with everything that’s happened?”

“I’m…adjusting,” nodded Stiles.  “Allison seems to be doing much better after the ordeal.  She’s no longer a skin-walker and she’s getting back into the social scene like nothing happening.  I guess ignorance is bliss.”

“And…you…and Derek?” Danny had to ask.

Stiles shook his head.  “There never is or ever will be a me and Derek.”

The Hawaiian teen smiled.  “Good.”  Pulling the brown haired lad close, he pressed his mouth to the young man and displayed his affection.  “I now have you all to myself.  I love you Stiles.”

Stiles returned his devotion.  “I love you too, Danny boy.”

Arms embraced one another as their lips connected.  Admiration, kindness, and sympathy surrounded them as they gave in to their feelings.  Then the sound of a shrill whistle interrupted their union.

“Mr. Mahealani and Mr. Argent!” Principal Lahey tapped his foot.  “There is a time and place for PDA!  Please get to class.”

“Right Mr. Lahey!” Both boys giggled in unison.

Holding hands, the pair raced down the hallway.

© Copyright 2017 Gerard Mendoza. All rights reserved.


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