12) Tail 2

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"Holy crap, Deaton, pick up!!!" Scott shouted into his phone.
"It's not like him to not answer! Try again," Stiles shouted from the driver's seat.
Scott shouted when he was greeted with voicemail for the 10th time. He tossed his phone and clutched his unconscious daughter. Slowly, she stirred awake.
"Dad..?"
"Oh thank god..."
Both boys collectively breathed sigh of relief.

"Emma, how are you feeling?? You passed out after you shot fox fire from your hand!" Scott frantically explained.

"I'm fine...just a little dizzy," Emma mumbled while rubbing her head. She sat up, shifting uncomfortably in her seat when she realized her two tails were back.
Scott sensed her discomfort and spoke soothing words.
"You're going to be fine. We'll find out what's wrong."
Emma smiled, but her grin was short lived. She screamed bloody murder. Stiles nearly crashed into a tree.
"What the hell, Emma?"
She wouldn't stop screaming. Her tails were sparking, her claws were extending, her lips were curled back as her fangs elongated, and her face was horribly contorting into a snout.
"Stop the car," she demanded between shouts.
"Wh- I-"
"ugggghhhhh STOP THE FUCKING CAR!!"
Emma's voice lowered an octave, and her demand had a growl in it. Her eyes flashed a bright gold.
"Woah!" Stiles exclaimed before hurrying to pull over. He barely stopped the car when Emma burst out of the seat and landed on all fours.
The boys jumped out of the car as quickly as they could, but it was too late. All that was left was a pile of torn clothes, a scratched up jeep interior, and a spark of electricity in the distance
Stiles remembered when this happened with Scott.
Was she shifting? It looked that way. Except....it didn't look good. Her face and body was contorted weirdly, and there wasn't a full moon in sight.
What was this second tail doing to her?
Scott decided to run after her, telling Stiles to drive home and alert his father.
As the jeep's tires screeched along the gravel, Scott shifted into his full wolf form, much like Talia used to do. He decided it would be easier to navigate the earthy forest floor with nimble paws instead of heavy feet.
Running and running, Scott finally found a disheveled orange mess.
There between some rocks lay his daughter, half shifted and passed out. It was a disheartening sight. Her mouth was frothy, and she looked absolutely....animalistic.
Not the good way. Not the typical therianthrope animalistic. Right now, Emma looked to be the result of an amateur scientist's experiment that escaped and got hit by a car. That's what she looked like.

Roadkill.

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