Teen Wolf: Void Stiles

Support me and Join Patreón to read chapters ahead.

Patreón: patreon.com/Darkwolfest

Join my Discord to see the character images.

Discord invite:

https://discord.com/invite/WpaszattdH

Enjoy.

-------

The clinic door creaked and chimed as footsteps echoed against the tiled floor. The dim, eerie lighting barely illuminated the room, a tactic Deaton used to keep the animals calm.

Deaton sat at his desk, buried in paperwork, barely glancing up when the door opened.

Without looking, he muttered, "Scott, you're late again." A small, knowing smile crept onto his face. "I hope this isn't becoming a habit."

Expecting to see his familiar, perpetually flustered assistant, Deaton finally glanced up. His smile faltered when he saw the figure standing in the doorway—a man, tall, brooding, and nothing like Scott.

"Can I help you?" Deaton asked, the warmth vanishing from his voice as his body subtly shifted into a more defensive posture.

Derek didn't respond immediately. He tilted his head slightly and stepped inside, holding a crumpled poster in his hand.

"I hope so," Derek said darkly, his voice low and dangerous.

Derek strode forward, his boots heavy on the linoleum floor, and raised the poster for Deaton to see. "I want to know about the animal you found with a spiral carved into its side."

Deaton's brow furrowed as he took in the image, his mind already working through the implications.

He remained calm, but there was a flicker of concern in his eyes. "I'm sorry, what animal are you talking about?"

Derek's expression hardened. He slammed the poster onto the desk in front of Deaton and slid it towards him, the sound of paper scraping against the wood unnervingly loud in the quiet clinic.

"You remember this?" Derek's tone was ice-cold.

The image was of a deer, but it was almost unrecognizable. Its body was twisted in a grotesque, unnatural position, its head turned at a sickening angle. A gaping wound marred its chest, and one of its legs was missing. But the most disturbing detail was the spiral—carved deep into its hide, blood staining the fur around it.

Deaton's eyes flicked down to the poster and then back up to Derek, a nervous smile playing across his face, though it didn't reach his eyes.

"Ah, yes. That... It's just a deer. I didn't find it myself—they called me because they wanted to know if I'd ever seen anything like it."

"And what did you tell them?" Derek leaned forward, his voice low and menacing, his eyes locked onto Deaton's.

"I told them no," Deaton replied, keeping his voice steady, though his pulse quickened.

Derek's lips curled into a predatory grin as he leaned in even closer. His ears seemed to twitch, his heightened senses picking up something—something Deaton couldn't hide.

"You hear that?" Derek asked suddenly, his eyes alight with a dangerous gleam.

Deaton blinked, confused, his heart thudding in his chest. "Hear what?"

"The sound of your heartbeat rising," Derek said, his voice dripping with accusation.

Deaton's confusion deepened, but before he could respond, Derek snarled, "That's the sound of you lying!"

In a flash, Derek lunged across the desk, his hand wrapping tightly around Deaton's throat. He slammed Deaton's head down against the desk, papers scattering to the floor as Deaton's world went dark.

---

Deaton awoke to searing pain. His face throbbed where it had smashed against the desk, his cheek stinging from the impact. He could taste blood in his mouth.

As he tried to move, he quickly realized his arms and legs were bound, strapped tightly to a chair. Panic began to set in, but he forced himself to remain calm.

From the corner of the room, a shadowy figure stepped forward, half-hidden in the dim light. Derek's glowing amber eyes gleamed menacingly from the darkness.

"Are you protecting someone?" Derek's voice was low and steady, almost too calm. He stepped forward, his presence looming, and Deaton couldn't help but feel like prey caught in the gaze of a predator.

Deaton, still disoriented, tried to speak through the pain.

"The key to the drug locker is in my pocket," He stammered, trying to offer a way out, hoping to deescalate the situation.

But Derek's patience had run out. He gripped Deaton's neck again, lifting him slightly off the chair as he growled, "I don't want the drugs!"

His voice was like a clap of thunder. "I want to know why you're lying!"

"I don't know what you're talking about!" Deaton gasped, choking as Derek's grip tightened.

Derek's eyes flashed with fury.

"Tell me who you're protecting!" He raised Deaton higher, his fingers digging into the flesh of his throat.

"Why are you doing this to me?" Deaton croaked, barely able to breathe.

"Because I need to know the truth!" Derek bellowed, shaking him. "You know something about the Alpha!"

Suddenly, the room was flooded with bright light as the clinic door swung open again. Both men turned towards the entrance.

Scott stood frozen in the doorway, his eyes wide with shock. He was dressed in some kind of ridiculous costume—a reindeer or a fawn maybe? He had a fluffy antler headband on his head, a red ball for a nose, and a brown spotted outfit that looked entirely out of place for the tension-filled scene in front of him.

"What the hell are you doing?!" Scott shouted, rushing forward.

Derek barely spared him a glance as he punched Deaton hard across the face, knocking him unconscious.

"Stop! Stop!" Scott yelled, launching himself at Derek. He grabbed Derek's arm, trying to pull him away from the crumpled figure of Deaton.

Derek turned to face Scott, his eyes wild with rage.

"When he's conscious, he can keep himself from healing. But unconscious? He can't!" Derek snarled.

"Are you out of your mind?" Scott screamed, his voice high with panic. "What are you talking about?"

Derek's voice was full of grim certainty. "The spiral Stiles saw the Alpha draw—it's a symbol. A sign for vendetta, revenge, and war!"

Scott blinked, still not understanding. "What does any of that have to do with him?"

Derek slammed his fist into the desk, scattering papers and supplies everywhere. "The Alpha won't stop until he's had his revenge. No matter the lives he has to take, no matter the sacrifices. He'll scorch the earth if he has to."

Scott's breath caught in his throat as the reality of what Derek was saying hit him.

"You think Deaton's the Alpha?" He asked, his eyes darting between Derek and his unconscious boss.

Derek shook his head. "No, but he knows something. And I'm not letting him rest until he tells me."

Derek raised his fist again, but Scott's eyes flared golden, his face morphing as his nails grew into sharp claws. He let out a deep, resonant growl.

Derek paused, stepping back warily. He was ready for a fight if Deaton turned into something more dangerous.

Scott positioned himself between Derek and Deaton, taking deep breaths to calm his transformation. Slowly, his claws retracted, and his eyes shifted back to brown.

"If you hit him again," Scott growled, "you'll see what it's like when I get angry."

Derek stared at him for a long moment before stepping back, his chest rising and falling heavily with frustration.

"He's our best way to get to the Alpha," Derek snapped.

Scott clenched his fists, hating what he was about to say. "No. There's a better way."

Derek raised an eyebrow. "What?"

"Meet me at the school parking lot in an hour," Scott replied, his voice steady but tense.

Derek didn't look convinced, but Scott didn't waver. After a tense moment, Derek finally shook his head and stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind him.

As the room fell silent, Scott let out a long, shaky breath.

"This is such a bad idea," He muttered, cutting the ropes that bound Deaton to the chair.