Hope Andrea Argent

Abomination (Part 1)

"You're lucky Stiles stopped Derek," Deaton tells Scott, rushing around,"You wouldn't have healed as fast if he had done anything."

"Okay, how do you know all this? Actually, how do you know anything?" Scott asks, needing answers.

"That's a longer story. What I can tell you is I know about your kind. Your kind I can help. This..." Deaton says, lifting up the sheet to reveal the hunter's body with the numerous slash wounds,"This is something different."

"Do you know what did it?" Scott asks nervously.

"No. But the Argents will. And this is the crucial part. They'll have some kind of record or book. It'll have descriptions, histories, notations of all the things they've discovered," Deaton continues to tell him.

"All of the things? How many different things are there?" Scott asks incredulously.

Before Deaton can answer, the sound of tires on gravel turn their heads toward the waiting area.

A gloved hand pushes open the front door. Boots tracking dirt across the cement floor, Argent walks in followed by two hunters. They turn the corner to find-- Deaton standing behind the body on the table. Alone.

"I'm starting to think I need to buy a more prominent Closed sign," Deaton states, looking up at the hunters.

Gerard steps out from behind Argent and his men. Deaton blinks, a moment of nervousness. He watches the man slip on a pair of glasses to look over Bennett's corpse,"Hello, Alan."

Argent glances to his father, surprised that these two know each other.

"It's been a while. The last I heard you'd retired," Gerard says.

"Last I heard you followed a code of conduct," Deaton retorts.

"If you hadn't noticed, this body is one of ours," Argent speaks up.

"I did. I also noticed the gunpowder residue at his fingertips," Deaton says, making sure he shows his dislike of the hunters,"So don't assume I've been swayed by your philosophy just because I'll answer a few questions."

"He was only 24," Argent informs him.

"Killers come in all ages," Deaton replies.

"All ages, sizes, shapes. It's the last one that concerns us," Gerard tells the vet.

"How about you tell us what you found?" Argent suggests.

Deaton turns the head to reveal a horizontal slash wound just below the hairline on the nape of the neck,"See this cut here? Precise. Almost surgical. But this wasn't the wound that killed him. It has a more interesting purpose."

"Related to the spine?" Gerard guesses.

"That's right," Deaton says,"Whatever made this cut was laced with a paralytic toxin potent enough to disable all motor function," He tells them, before gesturing to the slash wounds on the body's chest,"These are the cause of death. See the pattern on each side?"

"Five for each finger," Argent states.

"Five for each claw," Gerard corrects.

Through the crack in the door to the cage room where he hides, Scott peers out, listening to the men talk.

"As you can see, it dug in and slashed upwards, eviscerating the lungs and slicing through the bone of the rib cage with ease," Deaton says, demonstrating what happened with his own hands.

"Have you ever seen anything like this before?" Argent questions.

"No," Deaton says simply.

"Any idea at all what killed him?"