Chapter 2: The First Prank and the Power's Spark
The next few days were a blur of new school, new classes, and the subtle, awkward dance of a transmigrated soul trying to pretend they'd been here their whole life. My new name was Adam Smith, and apparently, I was the son of some tech mogul, which explained the ridiculous mansion and the bank account that would make a small country blush. It was a nice perk, a solid foundation to build my new, chaotic life on. I wasn't struggling to survive, which meant I could focus on what truly mattered: not dying, and maybe, just maybe, making sure Malia didn't have to spend six years in the woods.
Scott was a mess. He was clumsy, twitchy, and his senses were all over the place. He was flinching at loud noises, getting a nosebleed from the smell of a perfume, and generally acting like a guy who had just won the world's most dangerous lottery. I could see the panic in his eyes, the confusion that came with a body that no longer felt like his own.
This was my chance. I couldn't just sit back and watch. I needed to test his limits, to push him without him realizing he was being pushed. And what better way to do that than with a classic Stiles-Adam prank?
This is going to be amazing. A prank with a purpose. A beautiful, chaotic masterpiece of misdirection.
I walked up to Stiles in the school hallway, a mischievous glint in my eye. He was leaning against his locker, his phone in his hand, a look of utter exasperation on his face. "Okay, so I just got a text from Scott. He said he smelled the new girl's perfume from across the school, and it gave him a headache. I don't know if he's a werewolf or just a total drama queen."
"Oh, he's a werewolf, alright," I said with a sly smile. "And he's about to be a victim of the best prank this school has ever seen."
Stiles's eyes lit up. "A prank? On who? Jackson?"
"Oh, we'll get to Jackson," I said, a little too gleefully. "But first, we're going to prank Scott."
Stiles's face fell. "Dude, what? Why? He's having a terrible week! I think his brain is melting."
"Exactly," I said, a conspiratorial whisper. "He's all out of whack. His senses are like a toddler who just discovered a whole box of markers. He needs to learn to control them. So, we're going to give him a crash course. We're going to design a scavenger hunt, but a special kind. One that only a werewolf can follow."
Stiles stared at me for a moment, his brow furrowed in confusion. "A werewolf scavenger hunt? That's... that's so ridiculously nerdy, I almost respect it. What's the plan?"
Over the next few hours, Stiles and I went into full-blown prank mode. We started with the clues. The first one was a small note taped to the back of a locker, barely visible. The clue itself was a simple riddle: "I am a scent that lingers, but I have no name. Find my source, and you'll find the next clue."
The "scent" was a very specific, almost undetectable odor that I had acquired from a small vial of rare herbs I had ordered online. I'd then carefully applied it to a few spots around the school, just enough for a nascent werewolf's nose to pick up on.
The next clue was a sound. I had recorded a very high-frequency pitch and set up a small, discreet speaker in the library, hidden amongst the books. The clue was a simple question: "What is a sound that only some can hear, but no one can ignore?"
The scavenger hunt was a masterpiece of convoluted, yet brilliant, logic. It led Scott from the library to the gym, from the gym to the chem lab, and finally, to the school's basement, where I had hidden the final prize.
I watched from a distance as Scott stumbled through the clues, his face a mix of frustration and concentration. He was using his new senses, even if he didn't realize it. He was learning to focus, to filter out the noise and the smells of a normal high school and home in on the things that mattered.
He finally made it to the basement, and I watched as his eyes fell on the last clue. It was a single sheet of paper, taped to the wall. The text was simple, a single, cryptic sentence.
"There's a big, bad wolf in Beacon Hills. He's coming for you. And if you're not ready, he's going to eat you alive."
Scott stared at the message, his face a mask of utter confusion. He looked around the empty basement, his eyes wide. He had just solved the world's most complicated scavenger hunt to get a vague, slightly threatening warning. He looked a little like a puppy who had just been tricked into chasing its own tail.
Suddenly, a jolt of energy surged through me. It wasn't my energy; it was something foreign, something wild and untamed. It felt like a current of electricity running through my veins, and for a moment, I saw the world differently. The colors were more vibrant, the sounds sharper, and the smells… the smells were overwhelming. I could smell the dust in the air, the faint scent of old gym shoes, and the metallic tang of blood from a cut on Scott's hand.
The System notification flashed in my mind, the blue screen a reassuring presence in the middle of the sensory overload.
[MIMIC SYSTEM ACTIVATED: WEREWOLF POWER ACQUIRED.][SOURCE: SCOTT MCCALL.][DURATION: 24 HOURS.][NOTE: THE PRANK ACTED AS A CATALYST, FORCING YOUR NEW SELF TO CONNECT WITH THE SUPERNATURAL ENERGY IN THE AREA.]
I felt the power subside, leaving behind a faint echo of the new senses. It was exhilarating and a little terrifying. I had a superpower. And I got it by playing a prank. This is seriously the best and worst thing that's ever happened to me.
I walked over to the basement door, pushing it open. Scott jumped, startled. "Adam! Dude, what was all that? A warning? A prank? I don't get it."
I gave him a half-smile, a look of genuine affection mixed with my signature sarcasm. "It was a prank, Scott. A very elaborate, very expensive prank. And also, maybe a warning. You'll thank me later. Probably."
He looked at me, a flicker of something in his eyes—not just frustration, but a touch of admiration. "I don't get it," he said, but he was smiling. "You're a weirdo, Adam."
"And you," I said, patting his shoulder, "are a weirdo with a really good sense of smell now. Go home, buddy. You've had a long day."