Location: United States of America, California, Beacon County, Beacon Hills.
Date: September 9, 2006.
Rrrrrrringgggg!!!!!
The loud sound of the alarm echoed in the room. A teenager groaned and then smashed the alarm with such force that it shattered into tiny pieces.
Scott!! Get up!! You have school in half an hour!!
Melissa shouted from downstairs.
Scott groaned tiredly, then slowly got up and went to the bathroom. After using the toilet and taking a shower, he dried himself, wrapped a towel around his waist, and looked at the mirror with fatigue.
Scott stared at his reflection, then was shocked by the sight of his body.
What?! Is this my body?! His mouth opened in astonishment.
Instead of his slim body, he now had a muscular, well-defined physique.
He examined himself in different bodybuilding poses, then sighed in relief and thought, Well, at least this is one of the perks of being a werewolf.
A flicker of sadness rose as he thought about his current state and the madness of the past two days. His hand trembled as he touched his jaw with fear and pain.
Traitor!! Trash!!
Traitor?! What's wrong with you people?! I don't even know you!! How did I betray you?!
Shut up!!
Aaaaaahhhh!!!
Scott!! You'll be late for school!!
Scott's body trembled, and his mind escaped the memory of having a spear thrust into his mouth and his tongue cut by members of the Marlowe pack when he heard his mother's voice. He replied, Okay!! I'm coming!!
He shook his head, quickly washed his face, put on his clothes, and left the bathroom. He opened his bedroom door and was about to leave but stopped when he saw a photo on his desk.
It was a picture of him, Alex, and Stiles, taken on the second day Alex arrived in Beacon Hills—the same day he and Alex were bitten.
Scott approached, picked up the photo, and gently touched Alex's smiling face with a mix of tenderness and sadness.
Take Elena and leave, I can't control myself much right now. There are voices in my head telling me to kill everything that moves!!
Scott shivered at the memory of what Alex had said before going berserk. He carefully placed the photo back on the desk.
Don't worry, Alex. I'll save you and restore you… just wait for me, he thought firmly.
Then he left his room and headed to school.
---
[At School]
Beacon Hills High was like any other high school, full of students and noise, exhausted teens either showing off their cars or kissing each other under the influence of raging hormones.
Scott McCall parked his bike in the school lot, removed his helmet, and got off. He inhaled the morning air deeply, feeling his chest expand like a shield and his lungs fill with air. He also felt the intoxicating strength running through his muscles since last night. He could hear all the students' conversations and heartbeats, then closed his eyes and focused only on himself.
The noise vanished, and silence took over. He opened his eyes and felt his senses return to normal. He put on his backpack and slowly walked toward the school gate.
Scott!!
Scott heard a familiar voice behind him and turned.
Stiles Stilinski was walking quickly toward him, rubbing his hands with excitement.
Stiles, how are you?
Stiles shrugged at Scott's words and said, I'm fine. Just trying to adapt to the fact that my friend has become half dog, that there are mosquitoes the size of humans that can control minds, that my friend's boss is a weird sorcerer, and that my friend's cousin is also a royal werewolf. You know, just ordinary stuff.
Scott quickly looked around and said, Stiles, are you crazy?! You can't talk about these things in public.
Stiles smiled sarcastically. Don't worry, Scott. I'm sure no one heard us. He added, You won't believe what I found, Scott, in my research about werewolves. There's a lot of myths and legends, of course I filtered out the nonsense, but based on what I saw yesterday, I think I discovered some interesting facts and also…
Stiles! Scott interrupted anxiously.
Stiles stopped and looked at him confused. Yes?
Did you sleep last night, Stiles? You look… terrible.
Scott looked at Stiles worriedly. He was disheveled, with sunken eyes and thick dark circles, his eyes red from lack of sleep, and a strong smell of coffee surrounding him.
Sleep? Who needs that? Stiles said, staring at Scott as if he were an idiot.
Scott looked at him worriedly. Stiles, are you serious? We got home at 4 a.m. yesterday!! And you're telling me you didn't sleep and kept researching werewolves and the supernatural?
Stiles looked at Scott and slowly said, Well, when you put it that way… I may have gotten a little carried away and kept researching all night.
Scott sighed, shaking his head at his friend's behavior.
Oh come on, Scott! How do you expect me to sleep after everything that happened last night?!
Scott remained silent. He couldn't argue—Stiles was right. Last night had been the craziest night of his life, and worse, it might not be the last time he faced supernatural madness.
Scott sighed. I don't know, Stiles… I really don't. Let's just get to class first, then we can think about last night after school.
He turned and entered the school. Stiles sighed and followed him.
[Meanwhile, at Deaton's Clinic]
Deaton and David stood over a large map spread across the table—a detailed layout of Beacon Hills and all the surrounding towns.
David looked at Deaton and asked,
"So… how do we do this?"
Deaton sighed heavily.
"I don't know. All we can do is find Alex and restrain him before he kills more people."
David raised an eyebrow.
"Restrain him? You do realize Alex is a Lycan, right? That's like talking about capturing an Original."
Deaton met his gaze calmly.
"It doesn't matter whether he's an Original vampire or a Lycan. They're all vulnerable to magic. Once we find Alex, I'll simply snap his neck, then imprison him inside a powerful barrier spell. After that, we'll look for a way to reverse the transformation and turn him human again."
David smirked sarcastically.
"Sounds like you don't need me at all. You're doing all the hard work yourself."
Deaton replied evenly,
"Despite how simple it sounds, it won't be easy. One mistake—and we'll all be dead within seconds."
David studied Deaton with a strange, unreadable expression.
"Yeah… you're right."
Deaton then asked,
"Would you mind going to Scott and retrieving some of Alex's belongings? I'll need them to perform a location spell."
David nodded eagerly.
"With pleasure."
He left the clinic.
---
Once David was far enough away, he pulled out his phone and called someone whose name alone inspired terror in countless hearts.
Rrrrringgg…
A landline rang in a disturbing place—something resembling a laboratory filled with severed limbs and grotesquely deformed corpses. The room was drenched in blood, and on one of the stained walls was a strange crimson symbol: the Ouroboros.
A figure wearing a terrifying metallic gas mask slowly lifted the receiver.
"Did you find David Wilson?"
David answered with the utmost respect, reverence—and fear trembling in his voice.
"No, my lord. I did not find David with the man known as Alan Deaton, nor anywhere in Beacon Hills."
"Huah? Then what was the point of sending you there?"
David's body shook violently.
"W-with all due respect, my lord… I've only been in Beacon Hills for one night. I identified everyone connected to David in the city, but it appears he quarreled with them last night and vanished to an unknown location before I could reach him."
"Excuses!"
The masked figure roared. "If you do not find David and bring me the Black Vow Ring within three days, you will die a most horrible death. Is that clear?!"
The figure's voice shook the room itself—the ground trembled beneath its fury.
David stumbled and collapsed to the
ground, drenched in sweat.
"Y-yes… yes, my lord! I'll carry out your orders immediately! I swear—I will find David Wilson no matter the cost and retrieve the Black Vow Ring!"
"You'd better."
Then, coldly: "Now tell me—did you gather anything useful? What's happening in Beacon Hills?"
David exhaled shakily.
"Yes, my lord. And you won't believe it… the Lycans have returned."
There was a pause.
"What?! How?! Explain. Now!."
David swallowed hard.
"Last night, a thirteen-year-old boy named Alexander Gilbert transformed into a Lycan."
"Impossible. Lycans are born—not created."
"I know, my lord. But here's what happened…"
David quickly explained Alex's transformation, his origin from Gamma werewolves, the declaration of the Warlex Challenge in Beacon Hills, and Deaton's plan to capture Alex and revert him to human form.
Silence followed.
Then the masked figure spoke, its voice filled with dark intrigue.
"Interesting… So the Lycan legend is real. And there's a young Lycan loose in this world."
A pause.
"New orders. Track down David and steal the Vow Ring from him. Infiltrate Scott McCall's group and gather intelligence on the Lycan. And when they capture him—kill them all. Do not allow Alex to be restored."
David tensed.
"B-but my lord… I can't do all of that in just three days."
"Take whatever time you need. But you will retrieve the Black Vow Ring—and you will not allow Scott and his allies to succeed. Is that clear?"
David's voice trembled violently.
"Y-yes, my lord… I will carry out your orders."
"You'd better… or else—"
The threat was left unfinished, yet it burrowed deep into David's heart.
The line went dead.
David shook violently, then exhaled—fear and relief mixing together. He was alive… for now.
He muttered softly,
"Alexander Gilbert, huh? You must be incredibly lucky to become a creature at the top of the food chain."
He smirked.
Suddenly, his body convulsed. His skin twisted, his form warped completely—until a grotesque figure stood in his place: dressed in a suit, its face pure white like snow, completely featureless except for a massive, horrifying mouth filled with enormous teeth.
"Looks like I'll be staying here longer than I expected… I wonder what the people of this town taste like?"
A long, thick black tongue slithered out as the creature licked its lips with a chilling grin.
Its body shuddered again—then returned to the form of an ordinary man.
The man smiled cruelly in its new face, then vanished in a blur of speed and shadow, racing deep into the forest.
---
Meanwhile, with Scott and Stiles:
Scott was sitting in his seat, listening to his chemistry teacher, Mr. Farris, explain the lesson with boredom, his mind occupied with the events of last night.
I wonder if Allison is okay, Scott thought anxiously, when suddenly he heard the voice of the girl who had stolen his heart at first sight.
"Mom, yes, I have everything with me. Oh—wait, I forgot my pen. Great, a perfect start to the first day. Alright, Mom, I have to go. I love you, bye."
Allison Argent sighed tiredly, closed her phone, and slowly headed toward the school doors.
From inside his classroom, Scott looked at Allison through the window. He was able to hear every word she said despite the distance, thanks to his supernatural senses.
Allison!! She's here!! I can't believe it!! Scott thought excitedly as a big, foolish smile spread across his face.
"Mr. McCall!!"
Scott blinked quickly, then looked at his teacher and said, "Yes?"
Mr. Farris looked at Scott and said, "Focus on the lesson, McCall. The school year has just begun—don't let yourself get distracted so easily."
Scott nodded and replied, "Yes, sir."
Mr. Farris nodded and continued the lesson.
At that moment, the vice principal entered the classroom with a female student.
The vice principal looked at Mr. Farris and said, "Excuse me for a moment, Mr. Farris, but I've brought you a new student."
Then he turned to the class and said, "Students, please welcome Allison Argent. She's a new student here who recently transferred with her family from another state to Beacon Hills."
Allison stepped forward nervously, waved hesitantly, and said, "Hi everyone, I'm Allison Argent. I hope we'll be good classmates."
Allison was a beautiful girl with striking features that made her stand out among the other girls. She had soft lips, blue eyes, long black hair, and a slender body.
"Damn, she's hot! Don't you agree, Scott?" Stiles whispered to his friend sitting in front of him.
But Scott was completely lost in another world, his mouth slightly open as he stared at Allison as if an angel had descended from heaven.
Allison shivered under the stares directed at her. Most of the girls looked at her with jealousy and envy, while the boys' gazes made her uncomfortable and irritated—especially Scott's, as he stared at her in stunned awe.
Allison slowly walked forward, quickly scanned the room, and unfortunately found no empty seat except the one in front of Scott.
She sat down, trying her best to avoid eye contact with him.
"Hi, Allison."
Allison slowly turned toward Scott and said politely, "Yes?"
Scott handed her a pen and said, "Here. I thought you might need one."
Allison looked at Scott with slight surprise, wondering how he knew she didn't have a pen, but she took it anyway and thanked him politely.
Scott smiled warmly, but a hint of worry appeared on his face when he realized Allison didn't recognize him.
Please, David, don't tell me you used Compulsion on Allison to make her forget me, Scott thought bitterly.
"That's all. Please continue, Mr. Farris," the vice principal said as he turned to leave.
But he stopped when two students burst into the classroom.
"Excuse us, is this the sophomore class?"
The two students—a boy and a girl—asked at the same time.
The vice principal froze, then looked at them in confusion and said, "Let me guess… the Koshomokli family, right?"
The boy stepped forward and said, "It's Koshomogli, actually."
The vice principal nodded, then turned to the class. "Alright, welcome your new classmates."
He turned back to the siblings and added, "Please introduce yourselves."
The boy stepped forward confidently and said, "Hello everyone, I'm Viktor Koshomogli, and this is my sister Lily Koshomogli. I hope we'll be good classmates from now on."
Viktor was a handsome boy with sharp features and a strong athletic build. Lily, on the other hand, was almost as beautiful as Allison, with green eyes and jet-black hair.
Lily waved shyly to the class. They moved to sit down but couldn't find any empty seats.
Stiles jumped up so fast that he tripped and fell to the floor, causing some students to laugh.
He quickly stood up and said to Lily, "You can… you can take my seat."
Lily looked at Stiles in surprise and said shyly, "Th-thank you."
Viktor narrowed his eyes coldly as he looked at Stiles.
Stiles shivered under Viktor's stare.
Mr. Farris adjusted his glasses and said, "That's kind of you, Stiles. Now, would you mind going with Viktor to get another chair from the storage room?"
"Of course, no problem," Stiles nodded quickly, though he still trembled slightly under Viktor's gaze.
The vice principal sighed and turned to leave, but stopped again when another student entered calmly.
"Excuse me? Is this the sophomore class?"
The students exchanged confused looks. Four new students appearing at the same time was highly unusual.
The vice principal looked at the student and said, "Let me guess… Mr. Malvatore?"
"Actually, it's Mr. Salvatore," the student replied calmly.
The vice principal sighed tiredly. "Introduce yourself, and Mr. Farris will explain the rest."
He left the classroom, muttering about new students with strange family names.
The student looked around, stepped forward, and said calmly, "Hello everyone, my name is Stefan Salvatore. I hope we'll be good classmates."
Stefan was more handsome than all the boys in the class, with ocean-blue eyes, neatly styled brown hair, a sharp jawline, and a lean body. The girls stared at him in awe, while the boys looked on with jealousy, some muttering, "Damn pretty boy."
Mr. Farris nodded appreciatively and said, "Alright, Stefan. As you can see, we're short on seats, so you'll need to go with those two students to get one for yourself."
He pointed at Stiles and Viktor, then added, "And you too, Scott. Bring an extra desk with you, just in case another new student shows up."
"Yes, sir."
Scott stood up and followed Stiles, Viktor, and Stefan out of the classroom toward the storage room.
The school hallways were silent as the four walked slowly toward the storage room.
"So… where are you from?" Stiles asked, trying to break the tension.
Viktor glanced at him and replied, "Mississippi. Southaven, to be exact."
"Wow, that's on the other side of the country. Why come to Beacon Hills?" Scott asked curiously.
Viktor sighed. "My family moves around a lot. We never really settle in one place. My parents found jobs here, so… we're here."
"Are you and your sister twins?" Stiles asked.
Viktor shrugged. "No. She's a year older than me, but she had to repeat a year because of all the moving. I almost failed that year too, but I got lucky."
"Okay…" Stiles said slowly, then turned to Stefan. "What about you, Stefan? Where are you from?"
"West Virginia. A small town called Mystic Falls," Stefan replied calmly.
"What?! Really?! I have relatives there! Wait—your last name is Salvatore, right? I knew I'd heard that name before! Your family is one of the founding families of Mystic Falls, isn't it?" Scott said quickly, studying Stefan closely.
Stefan shifted uncomfortably but answered, "Yes. That's correct."
"Great… another person from Mystic Falls," Stiles muttered to himself. I hope he's not from some supernatural werewolf lineage too.
Stefan looked at Scott and asked, "You said you have relatives in Mystic Falls?"
"Actually, my aunt on my mom's side lives there with her kids. She married into one of the founding families."
"Really? Which family?" Stefan asked with interest.
"The Gilberts," Scott replied.
"Gilbert, huh?" Stefan muttered, memories of Jonathan Gilbert from over 140 years ago resurfacing.
"Scott's cousin just moved here recently from Mystic Falls," Stiles added as they stopped at the storage room door.
"Really? I'm looking forward to meeting someone from home," Stefan said with a strange, unreadable expression.
"We're here," Scott said as he opened the storage room door.
The storage room was chaotic, filled with dusty shelves, stacked desks, chairs, and thick layers of dust.
"Ack—!"
Stiles coughed, waving his hand. "Damn, this place is like a junkyard."
Viktor nodded. "I agree. This place is awful," he said, walking toward a desk.
"You've asked a lot of questions about us. What about you two?" Viktor asked, lifting a desk and chair effortlessly.
"Us? We're nobody," Stiles shrugged, struggling to pull a chair free.
Scott sighed. "What my friend means is—we're just normal students born and raised in Beacon Hills."
Stefan looked at them curiously. "You seem close. How long have you known each other?"
"Since childhood," Scott replied carefully as he lifted a desk, making sure not to break it.
"So, what do people do for fun around here?" Viktor asked.
"Not much. Everyone's obsessed with lacrosse," Stiles replied, still struggling with the chairs.
"Careful, Stiles. One wrong move and we'll be crushed," Scott warned.
"Relax, Scott, I know what I'm doing," Stiles waved him off.
"Lacrosse? The sport with sticks and nets?" Stefan asked as he effortlessly pulled a desk free.
"Yeah. I'm surprised you know it," Scott said.
"I read a lot," Stefan replied casually.
In truth, Stefan had helped invent lacrosse over 120 years ago.
Viktor sighed. "Great. A boring town obsessed with a boring sport."
"Hey! Don't insult lacrosse!" Stiles shouted—just as he yanked too hard.
The stacked desks collapsed like dominoes.
"Damn it, Stiles!!" Scott shouted.
"Holy shit!" Viktor cursed, shoving Scott out of the way as desks crashed down.
"Stiles!!" Scott yelled, rushing forward and lifting the fallen desks.
"Let me help!" Viktor said, lifting desks alongside him.
"Scott! I'm here!"
They froze and turned.
Stiles was standing safely near the door beside Stefan.
"How the hell did you get there?!" Viktor asked in shock.
"Stiles, what happened?" Scott asked, now staring at Stefan warily.
"Don't ask me. Ask Stefan. One second I was about to be crushed—next thing I know, I'm here."
Scott and Viktor looked at Stefan in confusion.
"I pulled him out at the last second," Stefan said calmly.
"And how exactly did you do that?" Stiles asked cautiously, stepping back.
"My reflexes are fast," Stefan replied.
"Bullshit. We didn't even see you move," Viktor snapped.
Stefan cursed himself inwardly. He should've let Stiles get hurt—but he acted like a hero and revealed too much.
Scott stepped forward. "It doesn't matter how he did it. What matters is that Stiles is okay. Thank you, Stefan."
He shot Stiles a look, silently telling him to drop it.
Stiles nodded. "Yeah… I don't know how you did it, but thanks."
Stefan nodded. "You're welcome. Now, if you'll excuse me—I have a class to attend."
He grabbed a desk and chair and left.
Viktor watched him go, muttering that he would never enter another storage room again then left after Stefan.
Stiles immediately turned to Scott. "So… do you think he's—"
"Supernatural?" Scott finished.
Stiles nodded.
"I don't know," Scott sighed. "But after last night, nothing surprises me. Still—we should be careful. And I think Stefan is a good person. If he weren't, he would've let you get hurt."
They continued discussing Stefan as they headed back, unaware that Stefan had heard every word.
"Beacon Hills is full of werewolves who could kill you with a single bite. Wear this bracelet to mask your scent. And no matter what happens—don't interfere in their conflicts, or you'll die".
Stefan remembered Lexi's warning as he looked at the bracelet on his wrist.
In his 160 years of life, Stefan had never met a werewolf before—but something about Scott felt dangerous… deeply dangerous.
"Don't worry, Lexi. I won't die. I'll come back to you safe".
Stefan thought as he entered the classroom.
--------
Hello everyone, here I am. My exams are over so I can download as I please. Tell me your opinion in the comments.