The Unknown Winchester.

Chapter 17

It had been six months since the last time Stiles had seen his uncles.

Between this the war between supernatural and hunters had increased.

Because of this ongoing war, Stiles had fought off the ability of being normal during college, and started training more with his Magick.

Stiles got texts every month or so from the Winchester's, something along the lines of  "Hey. Still okay.".

Increasing his training, he began to exorcise demons out of innocents more, saving their lives while creating more pack members.

Between this Stiles was slowly inching towards a coven, his uncle Sam mentioning his own works of Magick and of a woman named Rowena.

Stiles had heard of someone named Constantine. He was curious to figure out if he could contact him, hopefully able to find more about his powers. Constantine was supposably a highly educated exorcist and wise of dark magic.

It was almost 2022, the year going by so slow yet fast.
Christmas was suppose to be a time of family and gifts, now it was a mess of protection and blood shed.

Stiles slowly lifted his hand in exhaustion and frustration, clothes flopping into his suitcase being lifted by ash. Beside his suitcase was three more, two pink and one black.

Heels, and hair products and outfits were piled into the pink ones. The black one barely had anything.

Just enough to survive for Scott and Melissa.

Their house burned down, a sickening fire that mimicked the Hale fire. Thankfully no one was home, but that didn't stop the letter wrote in blood towards the Mcall pack.

"See you soon"

His special day of popping the question was getting closer but everything fell forward to prevent it, the fire, the war, everything just wouldn't slow down.

All the local packs were getting ready to leave for a small vacation. Or more likely, an escape plan.

The Hale pack and the Mcall pack were getting ready for something big and everyone somehow trusted them.

Because of this bad and good supernatural beings have circled around the beacon of a town, including some just raising hell.

Stiles and Lydia ran home in the middle of the week one month because of a siren infestation, something they never encountered before.

In the end though they just ended up being chucked info the lake near the nemeton, sinking to the bottom with an unknown treaty Lydia is not so sure was true.

Most local supernaturals from Washington had followed Stiles back to Beacon Hills. Some were not too lucky, as the last few months more of Monroe's hunters attacked any residences around Stiles they could grab, friends or not. Some even leaving a trail to tease the young Spark and pack.

Stiles was frustrated, knowing Monroe wanted a game, a setting that was not just a board game he could easily win and decode.

It was a game of survival. A game of cat and mouse. Of hunter and prey. And no one could figure out who was hunted more.

And God Damn he was going to win it, he played this game since he was sixteen. If he survived Gerard, he will survive Monroe.

In the other room, fifty adults, children and teens sat in the Stilinski residence. Some still at Lydia's lake house, some resting at the clinic from damages if they were attacked by any hunter.

Cars pulled in and out of the small yard, some practically against each other while parked.

Stiles frustratingly checked the tracker while he grabbed his bag of weapons. Opening the duffle bag up revealed wards all around the inside in whitish grey paint.

A silver baton laid there alongside a retractable baseball bat, the end of the baseball bat the only thing visible.
Daggers and knives were piled in as well as a broken katana that gave Stiles chills as his fingers dashed around it, little flames snapping towards his fingers.

"Stiles!"

Stiles quickly looked up to see Liam in the doorway, his eyes snapping towards him in concern.

"Alec caught her scent. He's almost certain she's close to the tracker, she's coming. "

Liam had started college and almost graduated with his Beacon Hills community college degree for engineering.

"Fuck!" Stiles yelled chucking a book across the room while running to the computers in the corner.

His eyes dashed across the monitor that was blinking profusely as sound alarmed them both, Alec was right.

Little red dots scattered into the clearing of where you enter Beacon Hills. They were here, and coming fast.

"Lead everyone to the Nemeton. I'll meet you there. " Stiles asserted going past him, grabbing the duffle bag on the way out.

Stiles rushed out the back door, weaving past bodies moving out the front as Lydia yelled for them to keep moving forward.

Scott was calling Argent, and seemingly Peter over as he glanced at Stiles, his eyes showing fear.

Stiles eyes just showed fury.

He sat the duffle bag down and ripped it open, the regiments of the katana in his hands.

Closing his eyes, gold and black flared around his irises as he pressed the shards hard together.

Steam rised from the sword, sparks flying everywhere as Stiles grunted his teeth at the pressure he had to apply to the blade.

With a screeching noise it came alive, revealing itself in red and black flames.

His eyes shot open, his iris no longer able to be seen as his eyes shown pure black.

The house was empty now, cars almost completely gone where there was multiple.

Just then, his phone buzzed.

Sambo

Hey, what's going on? Scott has called me a dozen times saying something was going on and to message you?