Two days passed without incident in Beacon Hills.
Stiles and Scott had just returned to Scott's house after a double date with Erica and Tracy. Stiles flopped onto the couch with a contented sigh. "Things are going really good with you and Tracy, huh?"
Scott collapsed next to him, a dreamy smile on his face. "Yeah. She even told me Derek was happy when she said she was dating me, and he encouraged her to be with me. I didn't know Derek liked me that much."
Stiles gave him a flat look. "You're an idiot."
"What? Why?"
"Derek wants you in his pack, but he can't force you because of Jacob. So when Tracy told him she was dating you, he probably saw it as a perfect opportunity. A honey trap to pull you in."
Scott frowned. "Why would he even want me? He already has four Betas if we count Peter. I don't see the point."
Stiles sighed in exasperation. "Again, you are an idiot. Let's ignore the fact that you're stronger than all his current Betas. Let's also ignore that if you joined, he'd probably think Erica and I would follow. The most important thing about you is that you're friends with Jacob. If you were in his pack, Derek could always ask you to ask Jacob for help if he got in over his head."
Scott's expression cleared slightly. "I see. But I'm not joining his pack. I'd help him if I could, though. And I don't think Jacob would refuse if Derek asked for help directly."
"Jacob probably wouldn't refuse," Stiles agreed. "But if you were already in the pack, asking would be a lot easier."
Scott said, "Well, I'm never joining his pack. If anything, I'll convince Tracy to leave his pack and join mine."
Stiles blinked. "Are you planning to build a pack?"
"I won't turn people," Scott clarified. "But I want to be an Alpha of my own pack someday. And I already have you as my first Beta."
Stiles held up a hand. "Who said I'm your Beta? I'm as strong as you are. Besides, I'd rather be in Jacob's pack—or flock, or whatever you call a dragon's group."
Scott snorted. "You're dreaming. Dragons only accept females into their group. And last I checked, you're not a female."
"Anyway," Stiles said, waving it off, "I'm your best friend, but I'm not your Beta. And to be honest, if you want to be an Alpha, you need to man up a little. You don't even like to fight. How are you going to protect your pack if someone tries to kill them?"
"I don't mind fighting," Scott insisted. "I just don't want to kill."
Stiles looked at him seriously. "Scott, tell me something. If Jacob hadn't killed those witches and that yeti in the woods, how many people in this town do you think would have died?"
Scott thought for a moment. "If that yeti had gotten into town… it would have killed everyone. It would have turned Beacon Hills into a frozen hell."
"So you understand that what Jacob did was necessary," Stiles pressed. "Remember the Wendigo family? And the Bogatyr hunters, who kill not only supernatural targets but anyone close to them? What would you have done if you were in Jacob's place? Kill them, or spare them? Think about it. Think about the consequences of sparing them. Think about your mom, and every other innocent person in this town."
Scott looked troubled. "What would you do?"
"I've thought about it a lot," Stiles admitted. "And my answer is: I would kill them if I had to. I'd rather lose sleep for a few nights than lose my dad, or someone I care about. If me killing someone saves innocent lives… I'd do it."
Scott sighed heavily and leaned back into the couch, falling silent.
Stiles nudged his shoulder. "Don't worry too much. With Jacob around, you probably won't ever have to make that choice. But you should think about it. Seriously. What would you do if you had to decide, and neither Jacob nor I was there? You need to be prepared so you don't hesitate when the time comes."
Scott sighed again. "That's… something to think about later." He pushed himself to his feet. "Let's go get dinner for my mom. She has a late shift tonight."
They got into Scott's car, drove to a restaurant for takeout, and then headed to the hospital.
Melissa wasn't at the nurses' station. They found her further down one of the hospital corridors, holding a shuddering woman in a comforting hug just outside a patient room. The woman's sobs were a raw, broken sound in the quiet hallway.
Stiles and Scott hung back, waiting respectfully. After a few minutes, the woman pulled away, accepting a tissue from Melissa. She whispered a choked "Thank you" before slipping back into the room, the door sighing softly shut behind her.
Melissa turned, her professional composure softening into weariness as she saw her son and Stiles. She walked over, accepting the bag of food with a grateful, tired smile.
"What's wrong with her?" Stiles asked quietly, his eyes flicking to the closed door.
Melissa sighed. "Her father was just diagnosed with glioblastoma. Stage four. It's… too late to do anything meaningful. It's just about pain management now."
Scott's brow furrowed. "What's glioblastoma?"
Stiles answered before Melissa could, remembering facts he wished he didn't know. "It's a highly aggressive form of cancer that begins within the brain or spinal cord. It's… bad. I know about it because I read a lot about brain tumors when my mom was sick."
A wave of sadness washed over Stiles as he remembered his mother. Melissa saw it instantly. She reached out and pulled him into a warm, one-armed hug around his shoulders.
"Okay, none of that," she said, her voice gentle but firm. "No dwelling on sad memories. Let's go to the break room. I'm starved."
As they turned to go, Scott and Melissa started talking. Stiles, however, found his attention snagged by a presence his brain had unconsciously filtered out until now.
It was an old janitor, cleaning the floor a little way down the hall. He was thin and stooped, dressed in dark hospital-issue scrubs that seemed to hang off his bony frame. He worked with a slow, methodical patience, as if time itself had no claim on him.
Stiles narrowed his eyes. 'That man feels… creepy.'
As they passed him, the old man paused his mopping. He didn't look up at them. Instead, he gazed thoughtfully at the closed door of the patient's room.
"That man's path is set," the janitor murmured, almost to himself. His voice was dry and raspy. "Every step from here is torment for him, and a slow bleed of grief for his girl. She is burning her own life to keep a guttering flame alive. Sometimes, letting the dark come is how you save the other candles."
He gave a slow, almost imperceptible nod, as if agreeing with his own bleak wisdom, and then resumed his mopping.
Scott, focused on his mother, didn't hear a word.
But Stiles heard every word, and he stopped dead.
He looked from the closed door back to the old janitor. The words didn't sound like the bleak musings of a tired old man. They sounded like a statement of fact. A cold, dark principle. A promise.
"You coming, Stiles?" Scott called from up ahead.
Stiles didn't respond. He was still staring at the old man, a chill creeping down his spine.
The old man finally raised his head. His eyes, milky and clouded, met Stiles's.
They held that gaze for a few seconds that felt like minutes. Then the old man spoke again, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper that somehow carried perfectly down the empty hall.
"For her, the end was not hopeless. Not long. Not painful. She forgot everything—even her own son. But for you, child? Her last days were hopeless. Endless. Agonizing. And that pain still haunts you, doesn't it?" The janitor's head tilted slightly. "It makes you wonder if the kindest thing a soul can do is sometimes to leave a door open for the freezing cold, so the ones left inside aren't burned by the slow, terrible fire of forgetting."
Stiles stepped back in horror, his blood running cold. 'He's talking about my mom.'
"It's you!" he blurted out, his voice cracking.
Melissa turned, concerned. "Stiles, what's going on?"
Stiles was already fumbling for his phone, his fingers trembling as he dialed Jacob's number. "Scott, take Melissa and run! It's him!"
Scott looked bewildered. "Him who?"
The phone pressed to his ear, Stiles hissed, "It's the Black Shuck!"
Melissa looked utterly confused. Scott, however, finally looked at the old janitor—truly looked at him—and horror dawned on his face.
The old man stared at Stiles, a flicker of surprise in his cloudy eyes.
"Scott, what are you waiting for? Go!" Stiles shouted.
Scott grabbed Melissa's hand and turned to flee, but a dark shadow seemed to detach from the wall and solidify directly in their path. It was the old man, but he was different now. His posture was straighter, and his eyes glowed with a bright, malevolent red light. The temperature in the hallway plummeted. Frost spider-webbed across the floor and crawled up the walls. A cold, silent blue flame flickered to life in the palm of the old man's outstretched hand.
Scott's eyes flared a fierce yellow. He shoved Melissa behind him and planted himself between her and the creature, a low, warning growl rumbling in his chest.
The old man gave Scott a look of profound sadness. "I do not hunt the hale and healthy, young wolf. But you have seen my face. I cannot let you go."
But just as he moved to attack, he froze. His entire body went rigid. His hair seemed to stand on end, and the red glow in his eyes vanished, replaced by a vacant, empty stare, as if he were trapped in a sudden, profound trance.
At that exact moment, the phone connected. Jacob's lazy voice came through. "Stiles, what's up?"
"Hurry! Come to the hospital! Scott and I are— No, Melissa is in danger! It's the Black Shuck!"
The Black Shuck came back to his senses, then his form dissolved into a wisp of inky shadow that seeped into the floor and vanished.
Not ten seconds later, Jacob appeared at the far end of the hallway, having teleported from his mansion to the hospital's parking lot and sprinted inside. He ignored Stiles and Scott and went straight to Melissa, taking her hands in his. "Are you okay?"
"I'm fine," Melissa said, though she was visibly shaken. "But can someone please tell me what's going on?"
"Give me a second," Jacob said, his voice tight. He closed his eyes, focusing all his enhanced senses, trying to find any trace of the spectral creature. He felt nothing—no energy signature, no cold spot, nothing. The thing was gone. He opened his eyes, his expression grim. "Let's go. You can't stay here tonight, and you can't go home. That thing might come after you."
Melissa nodded. "Okay. Let me just end my shift."
They accompanied her as she officially clocked out. While they did, Stiles quickly told Jacob everything that had happened—the janitor's cryptic words, the direct reference to his mother's illness. Jacob's expression darkened with each detail.
On the way to the parking lot, Scott filled his mother in on what a Black Shuck was.
Once in the parking lot, Jacob made sure no one was watching. With a wave of his hand, he stored Scott's car in his pocket dimension. Then he took Melissa's hand, wrapped both Stiles and Scott in his telekinetic grip, and teleported.
They reappeared in the living room of the mansion. Jacob gently lowered a stumbling Melissa onto the couch. Stiles and Scott weren't granted the same courtesy; they dropped unceremoniously to the floor with a synchronized thud.
Malia, Kitty, Lydia, Allison, Kate, and Cogman, who were all in the living room, looked at them in surprise.
Allison said, "I see you saved them, but what about the Black Shuck?"
Jacob didn't answer. Instead, he walked over to Stiles, his expression dark. Without a word, he drew back his fist and punched Stiles hard in the face, breaking his nose with a sickening crunch.
Everyone gasped.
Scott jumped to his feet. "Jacob, what are you doing?!"
Stiles groaned, clutching his face. Blood streamed between his fingers, but his enhanced healing was already at work; he winced as he straightened the broken cartilage with a wet pop. "That hurts… but I deserve it."
Jacob was clearly furious. He yelled at Stiles, "You dumbass! Not only did you endanger yourself and Scott, but you also put Melissa in danger!"
Stiles looked down, ashamed. "I'm sorry. He got to me by talking about my mom. My brain just… stopped working."
Lydia asked. "Jay, what did Stiles do?"
"He figured out who the Black Shuck was," Jacob snapped, his anger still boiling. "And instead of walking away and calling me, he confronted it. Him and Scott can't beat that thing, and with Melissa there, they couldn't even run if they tried!"
Stiles mumbled again, "I'm sorry. I couldn't help myself."
Allison asked. "Who was the Black Shuck?"
"A janitor at the hospital," Jacob said, his voice tight. "But he's gone now."
Lydia gave Stiles a deeply disappointed look. "So, if you hadn't spooked him, we could have just gone to the hospital and dealt with him. Well done."
Melissa spoke up. "Okay, give Stiles a break. He was reminded of his mom. He wasn't thinking straight."
Allison nodded, though her expression was serious. "Stiles, tell us everything. How did you figure it out?"
Everyone settled into chairs and couches as Stiles recounted the entire encounter—the janitor's cryptic words, the direct, chilling reference to his mother's illness, the confrontation.
Malia, listening intently, tilted her head. "But you said he wanted to kill you three. So why did he change his mind and run?"
"I don't know," Stiles admitted. "But I think he felt Jacob coming. When I called Jacob, he just stood there, stunned, for a second. Then he turned into shadow and disappeared."
Scott added, "I smelled fear on him right before he vanished."
Lydia's eyes narrowed thoughtfully. "I don't think he felt Jacob coming. Black Shucks, like banshees, can predict mortal danger. I think when he was in that trance, he saw a vision. He predicted that if he stayed, he would die."
Allison looked at Jacob. "So how do we find him now?"
Jacob turned to Melissa. "Do you know him? The janitor?"
Melissa shook her head. "No. I've seen him around the hospital a few times, but he's new. I don't know his name."
Jacob looked at Cogman. "Pull up the hospital's security footage. See if you can identify him and track him."
Cogman gave a slight bow. "At once, sir." He closed his eyes, his internal systems connecting seamlessly to the internet and local networks. A few minutes later, he opened them. "I've identified him, though he operates under multiple aliases and switches them with each relocation. Anyway, I know what he looks like now, so I can find him as long as a camera spots him in town. I also found the motel room he's staying in, but he probably won't go back there."
Just then, Stiles's phone buzzed with a notification. He pulled it out and read the message, his eyes widening. "Guys… something just attacked an ambulance transporting a heart attack patient. It ripped the patient apart and took his organs. Do you think it's the Black Shuck?"
"No," Jacob said immediately. "That's probably the thing that's been digging up graves in the cemetery."
As he spoke, a translucent system window materialized before his eyes.
[Event Sign-In Available
Host can sign in after witnessing Gerard Argent cut the omega werewolf in half.
Time Remaining: 40 minutes]
Jacob thought, 'So, Gerard is finally in town.' He stood up and said, "Malia, Cogman. Go to that motel and check if the Black Shuck went back. If you find him, kill him."
He then looked at Stiles. "Send me the location of the ambulance attack. I'll go there, catch the scent of whatever did it, and track it down."
Stiles quickly sent the location to Jacob's phone.
As Jacob turned to leave, Allison stepped forward. "I'm coming with you."
Kate stood as well, a grin on her face. "If you don't mind, I'd like to join the hunt."
Kitty, who had been curled in Lydia's lap, stretched and hopped to the floor. "I'm going, too."
Scott and Melissa stared, their jaws dropping.
Stiles shot to his feet, pointing a trembling finger at the cat. "Did… did the cat just talk?"
Kitty placed a paw on her hip. "Yes, I did. Haven't you ever seen a talking cat before?"
"If I had, I wouldn't be this shocked!" Stiles exclaimed, looking wildly from Kitty to Jacob. "When did you get a talking cat? I want one, too!"
"You can't get one," Jacob said flatly. "And a piece of advice: don't offend her. She's stronger than you." He turned back to Allison. "Stay here. I'll track the organ thief, then come back to teleport you. I need to hurry before the scent fades."
Allison nodded. "Okay. We'll wait. Go."
Jacob didn't waste another second. He hadn't been to the attack location before, so he couldn't teleport directly. Instead, he strode out of the mansion. Once outside, he used his telekinesis to launch himself into the night sky, following the location on his phone.
After Jacob left, Malia and Cogman also headed for the motel where the Black Shuck was staying.
To be continued… 😊