They ran and threw themselves into the nearest classroom.
"Close it!" Stiles shouted.
Scott slammed the door shut.
"Desk!" Stiles barked.
Asher and Scott moved to the other side, dragging the heavy teacher's desk toward the door. The wood screeched against the floor—then—
"Wait!" Stiles suddenly threw up a hand.
Asher and Scott froze mid-push.
"The door won't keep him out," Stiles said, his voice shaking.
"We know," Asher replied, glancing toward the flickering lights above.
"It's your boss, Scott."
Scott blinked. "What?"
"His boss?" Erica echoed, looking at both boys, while Asher frowned.
"Deaton," Stiles said, lowering his flashlight. "The Alpha is your boss."
"No—"
"What are you talking about?" Asher asked, eyes narrowing.
"Yeah, someone better explain this," Erica said, her tone somewhere between panic and disbelief.
Stiles sighed hard. "Derek found evidence that Deaton's the Alpha."
'Oh, so that's why he was in the car...' Asher realized.
Scott shook his head. "No, it can't be—"
"Well…" Asher said slowly, "before the Alpha appeared, Deaton disappeared from the car."
Scott turned toward him. "Maybe that's just a coincidence—"
"Oh, right," Stiles snapped. "A perfectly timed coincidence, sure. He vanishes, and ten seconds later the Alpha shows up and skewers Derek like a—"
"Like a what?" Erica asked.
"Like a blood piñata," Stiles muttered.
Scott glared. "He's not dead."
"Yeah, he just looked like someone forgot to screw the cap on his ketchup bottle," Stiles said.
"Stop it," Asher cut in, tone firm. "Now's not the time. We need to figure out our next move."
Stiles ran a hand through his hair, thinking fast. "We reach the Jeep, we get out of here. Simple." Then he pointed dramatically at Scott. "And you're gonna re-evaluate your job choices after this."
He grabbed his flashlight and made for the door.
"That's too dangerous, Stiles," Asher said calmly, blocking him. "That thing's faster than us."
"Then what do you suggest, huh?" Stiles snapped. "You got a better idea? Because I don't see one. That's our only option!"
"Ehm…" Erica murmured, nodding toward the classroom window. "I think your plan just got cut off, Stiles."
"What?"
Stiles turned—and froze.
The Jeep's hood was torn open like a tin can, sparks flickering from exposed wires.
"Jeep!" he shouted, as if mourning a fallen comrade.
Then, everything went still.
Asher's eyes narrowed. Something… off. His ears twitched almost imperceptibly.
"Down!" he barked suddenly—kicking Stiles flat on the ground, shoving Scott aside, and pulling Erica with him to the floor.
"Dude! What are you—" Stiles started, muffled against the tile. "Nothing's even—"
"I thought I heard something heading straight for—" Asher began.
SHATTER!
The classroom windows exploded inward, shards flying like shrapnel. Something heavy smashed onto the floor, smoking.
It clattered to the floor—metal, cracked, and still sparking.
The Jeep's battery.
Stiles, Scott, and Erica stared in shock.
The Alpha had thrown it.
But more than that…
They all turned to Asher.
He'd sensed it. A whole second before it hit. Maybe just as it had been thrown.
Even Scott and Erica hadn't heard a thing.
And they were werewolves.
"What… how did you… hear that?" Stiles finally asked, still gaping at Asher. It wasn't just him—Scott and Erica were both staring, waiting for an explanation that didn't make sense.
"I don't know…" Asher muttered, looking down at his hands as if they belonged to someone else. "I just… felt the danger."
The words hung in the air for a second too long.
But then his expression hardened. "That's not important now. We've gotta get out of here—fast."
Stiles blinked out of his daze. "Right… right, yeah." He scrambled to his feet, brushing glass off his sleeves. Erica and Scott followed, their movements cautious, silent.
Scott crept toward the window, peeking through a crack between the blinds. "He's… not anywhere," he whispered.
"He's having fun," Asher said suddenly.
Everyone turned toward him.
"What?" Erica asked, brow furrowing.
"What do you mean, Asher?" Scott said.
Asher's tone was calm, but there was a sharpness in his eyes. "Think about it. He could kill us at any time. This place is full of windows. He could've broken through this one instead of throwing the Jeep's battery, come in here, and we'd be dead before we blinked."
Stiles frowned, realization dawning. "Yeah… yeah, you're right. So what he probably wants is…"
"You two," Stiles and Asher said together, turning to Scott and Erica.
"Eh?" Both blinked, confused.
"You're part of his pack," Stiles said, pacing. "He's not gonna just rip you apart like us. No, he's probably… toying with you."
Asher nodded, finishing the thought in his head: Playing with you until you lose control… until you kill us yourselves.
He didn't say it out loud. No reason to make them panic more than they already were.
"And then?" Erica asked, her voice trembling slightly.
"I don't know," Asher said quickly, shifting the tone back. "There are too many possibilities. What matters now is that we find a way to escape his control—keep him from cornering us."
Stiles' eyes darted around, scanning the hallway layout in his mind. Then—snap—he had it. "A room without windows!"
The group exchanged glances.
They stepped out of the classroom, their footsteps echoing faintly against the linoleum.
"There isn't any room without windows that I can recall," Asher said, looking both ways down the corridor.
"The one with the least amount is…" Stiles started.
"The changing rooms," Stiles and Asher said in unison.
To be continued...
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How was this chapter? Liked it?
Sorry for the big wait once again. I got really really busy this weekend.