اوووه! هذه الصورة لا تتبع إرشادات المحتوى الخاصة بنا. لمتابعة النشر، يرجى إزالتها أو تحميل صورة أخرى.
"That's hilarious, Matty. Can I call you Matty? But seriously, did you really think that was going to kill me?" Ophelia muses with a short laugh. She holds the bullet that was fired seconds ago between her fingers, the burning sensation on her skin almost pleasurable. "Funny."
"Scott? Stiles?" The masculine voice yelling out from deeper in the station is presumedly Stiles' father, who the boys had told Ophelia would be with them.
Then a second pipes in, reeking of concern from the gunshot that had just travelled through the building and down to the holding cells containing Melissa McCall and Noah Stilinski handcuffed to the nearby radiator. "Scott? Are you alright?"
Matt stares at the girl in bewilderment, unable to comprehend how she had managed to catch the bullet before it had imbedded itself into her head. "What the fuck-"
"Yeah, bitch!" Stiles yells out once more. If he wasn't rendered paralysed, he would be pumping a fist in the air out of support for his one sided friendship with the blonde.
Ophelia's lips twist into a smirk and she only sighs when the gun is raised once again. "Mate, we just did this. Seriously?" Although Matt doesn't shoot her. Instead, the next bullet is fired into Scott's torso, the werewolf letting out a cry of pain as he falls back onto the floor. She kisses her teeth as her senses are flooded with the sweet blood dripping onto the flooring. "That was just unnecessary."
