𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟒 - 𝐏𝐭. 𝟐

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"I still don't understand how he has no mouth. How's he supposed to eat?" The sheriff's voice rang out, carrying a tone of genuine perplexity, as he looked deeply perturbed.

Derek's response dripped with his signature sarcasm, a hint of exasperation threading his words, "Well, Peter didn't have the chance to ask him. He was fighting with an axe inside his chest."

A soft chuckle escaped David's lips, a sound that managed to grab both men's attention. The corner of his mouth curled upward as he leaned against a nearby surface, amused eyes flitting between the two. "He's an Astomi," he offered with a casual air, as though he talked about the weather. Blank looks greeted him, demands for further explanation emanating from their expressions. Unfazed, David continued, "It's a supernatural species that's not quite supernatural, really. They're pretty much human, just missing the whole mouth part. And no need to ingest any kind of food. But that's not the main point here."

Sheriff Stilinski frowned, his brow furrowing in thought as he absorbed the peculiar information. "Ok, but who walks around carrying an axe?"

A timely intervention came from Parrish, "I used to carry one to remove explosives back in Afghanistan."

With a decisive nod, David reached a conclusion. "So, it's military equipment," he stated matter-of-factly, his words resonating with a note of affirmation. Parrish affirmed the deduction with a confirming nod of his own.

Now, it was time to delve into the intricacies of these modified devices, to decipher the how's and, perhaps more intriguingly, the why's behind their presence in Beacon Hills.


"Werewolf," he pointed at Scott and Michelle, his finger then shifting to Malia, "Werecoyote," and without pause, he aimed at Lydia, "Banshee." A nod accompanied each designation, a silent confirmation. His inquisitive gaze then found Kira, his arm extending toward her, "Kitsune." Another nod.

With a furrowed brow, he turned his focus to Stiles, his finger resting in the air towards the boy. "And what are you?" he inquired, his tone laced with an undeniable curiosity, yet also a tinge of suspicion.

Stiles' response carried a sense of matter-of-factness, a casual admission that could barely begin to capture the complexities of his experiences. "For a little while I was possessed by an evil spirit," he explained, a hint of self-deprecating humor slipping into his words, "It was very evil."

"And what are you now?" Liam pressed, an insistent tone marking his words.

In a now small voice, Stiles concluded, "Now I'm better."

However, the spotlight soon shifted to Alistair, Liam's gaze seeking the enigmatic boy's explanation. "And what are you?" The question lingered in the air, curiosity etching lines on Liam's features.

Alistair's response was short, "I'm a Keeper."

Liam's brow furrowed in response; his curiosity undeterred. "And what do you keep?" he inquired, his tone revealing his bewilderment at this new title.

The Keeper's reply in a very dry tone. "People like your lot from going on a killing spree."

Before Liam could further delve into his inquiries, his expressions changed, as if he was attuned to some hidden frequency. His confusion escalated into painful discomfort, his hands reflexively covering his ears as if to block out a painful sound. The arrival of cars punctuated the scene, a crowd's buzz growing louder as the vehicles approached.

Apparently, Liam had extended Mason the invitation, who made sure the invitation reached as many people as possible. But amidst the growing chaos, the effects of the full moon began to bear down on both Liam and Malia. In swift moves, Alistair and Scott moved to guide Liam out of the room, while Stiles and Kira took charge of Malia. Meanwhile, Michelle and Lydia steeled themselves to face the oncoming crowd.

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