𝐀𝐌𝐍𝐄𝐒𝐈𝐀 ━ isaac lahey

07. I Don't Think A Hairbrush Is Going To Do Much Damage

07. I Don't Think A Hairbrush Is Going To Do Much Damage

The first thing that settled in my mind while waking up was it smelled absolutely terrible. I had to keep myself from gagging as I shifted, hearing the sound of material sliding against plastic.

"What the hell?" I groaned as my sore shoulder was pressed up against something hard and cold, it felt like metal. I heard the sound of someone else groan beside me in the darknes and my heart skipped a beat. The mystery person cursed and sat up and moving around in the foul smelling container. I tried my best to keep quiet since oh, I don't know, it could be a seriel killer— or a freaking werewolf.

Because yeah, those exist now.

Suddenly a light appeared above me as the said person lifted upward and moved the doors. I could faintly see a buzzed cut haired boy as he threw god knows what off him, and spitting slightly. He rubbed his head as he was in pain before lifting himself out of what seems to be a dumpster and muttered a "bitch."

"Stiles?" I whispered befre sitting up, then cursing when I hit my head.

"Smart move blondie." Stiles sighed as he helped me get out before I could cause anymore damage to myself.

"Yeah well this blondie is pissed, and is about to go cut another blondie." I hissed out as I detached a piece of goop from my hair. "Oh god, what the hell is that?" I cry out.

Stiles' face scrunches up in disgust as he looked at what I threw on the ground. "I.. I don't even know." He sounded like he was going to throw up any second now, even though it was in my hair.

A ringing echoed through the alley that were in, I would kind of been creeped out if I wasn't focused on not spouting out my lunch.

"Yo Scotty." Stiles says as he answered his phone. We walked towars Stiles' jeep as I shivered. If I would have known that I'd be getting thrown in a dumpster, I might have brought a coat.

Quiet murmurs came from the other line of the phone as Scott babbled on, "Wait wait, what?" Giving Stiles a curious glance, he put Scott on speaker.

"A book, Deaton said that hunters have this book with all the—"

"Wait, your boss Deaton?"

"Yes! My freaking boss, Stiles. Now can you please lis—"

"How does he know all these things?"

"It doesn't matter! All that matters is I need to find this book that Allison's grandfather has with every creature they have ever came across and hunted. It could tell us about what the actual hell killed Isaac's dad, and that's not even the worst part."

"How is that not even the worst part?" I whine just wanting to go home and curl up in my warm bed.

"The Argent's came into the clinic tonight, another victim was murdered last night, they brought him in for examination. Apparently, this creature was only designed for killing. It makes like this precise incision on the back of its victims neck, temporarily paralyzing them so they can't move, before brutally tearing them apart."

"Thank you, Scott, for putting that picture in my head. Lovely." Stiles mutters.

"This is serious, Stiles! Can you please just come get me before another person gets brutally murdered?" Scott begs through the phone line. Stiles and I both stop and gape at the sight before us.