Chapter 5: Bestiary
Chapter 5: Bestiary
The next day, Beacon Hills High was buzzing with its usual energy—students rushing to class, friends catching up in the hallways, and teachers trying to wrangle the chaos. Amidst the noise, Hope stood at the main office, signing her enrollment papers.
"Welcome to Beacon Hills High, Ms. Hope..." the secretary glanced at the last name and paused.
"Just Hope," she interrupted with a polite smile. "No need for a last name."
The secretary raised an eyebrow but didn't press further, handing over a neatly printed schedule instead.
"Thanks to Lydia and her mother, you're all set," the secretary said with a tone that suggested she was accustomed to Lydia Martin's influential family making things happen.
Hope nodded her thanks and stepped out of the office. Adjusting her bag on her shoulder, she scanned the crowded halls. It was strange, being in a school again. She thought she'd feel out of place, but Lydia's persistence in dragging her into this world had somehow made it feel... manageable.
She spotted Lydia coming out of a counseling session, her usual confident stride slightly slower, her eyes tired but defiant.
"Hey," Hope called, quickening her pace to catch up.
Lydia looked up and smiled, though it didn't quite reach her eyes. "Hey. You find your classes okay?"
"Yeah, thanks to your mom working her magic," Hope said with a smirk.
Lydia waved it off. "Of course. What's the point of having influence if you don't use it to help a friend?"
"How was counseling?" Hope asked carefully, her tone light but her concern clear.
Lydia hesitated for a moment, then shrugged. "Same old. 'How are you feeling, Lydia?' 'Do you want to talk about what happened, Lydia?' It's like they expect me to have some profound epiphany every time I sit on that couch."
Hope tilted her head. "Maybe they're just trying to help."
Lydia gave her a look. "Help is overrated." But her smile softened the words, and Hope couldn't help but grin.
"Well, if you ever want to skip the couch and vent to me, I'm around," Hope offered, nudging Lydia gently with her elbow.
Lydia chuckled. "I'll keep that in mind."
As they walked through the halls, a sudden blur of motion caught Hope's eye. Stiles was sprinting down the corridor, his expression a mix of panic and determination.
"What the—" Hope began, but Lydia interrupted.
"Don't worry about it. That's just Stiles being Stiles," Lydia said, rolling her eyes.
Hope raised an eyebrow. "Yeah, no. Something's up. I'll catch you later."
Before Lydia could protest, Hope took off after him, weaving through the crowd with practiced ease.
"Stilinski!" she called, but he didn't stop, skidding around a corner instead.
By the time Hope caught up, she found Stiles crouched next to Allison, who was giving him a concerned but amused look. Stiles looked up at Hope, still catching his breath.
"Stiles," Hope said, her voice cool as she crossed her arms. She gave a small nod to Allison, who raised an eyebrow in silent greeting.
He jumped, his eyes wide in surprise, nearly tripping on his own feet in the process. "Hope! What are you doing here?" he asked, clearly flustered by the sudden appearance of her.
"Officially starting school, thanks to Lydia," Hope replied, the smirk on her lips evident. She eyed Stiles up and down with a raised brow. "What are you doing? And why are you running like your life depends on it?"
Stiles let out a breathless laugh, trying to calm himself. "Just passing on messages like a pigeon. Some people decided to date secretly. They don't mind a third wheel," he explained, gesturing vaguely at Allison.
Hope raised an eyebrow at him, her expression a mix of sympathy and mockery. "Oh, you poor thing," she said, her voice dripping with sarcasm. She pulled out her phone from her pocket and dialed Stiles' number. As it rang, she held the phone up with a smirk. "Don't worry, I'll save you from your tragic fate."
Stiles looked at her in confusion as his phone vibrated in his hand. "You're calling me?" he said, blinking rapidly.
"Exactly, you idiot," Hope responded, rolling her eyes. "Go to Scott. I'll be with Allison."
Stiles stared at her, still processing the situation. He blinked a few more times, as though trying to work through his thoughts. "Smarty pants," Allison grinned at Hope from the side, clearly amused by how Hope had just handled Stiles.
Hope didn't even break a smile as she gave Allison a playful wink. "You're welcome," she said before turning back to Stiles, who was still standing frozen in place, gaping at Hope like he had just been struck by lightning.
"What are you looking at? Go!" Hope snapped, her voice firm but with an edge of humor. Stiles blinked out of his trance and, realizing he was still standing there, quickly bolted off toward Scott.
Hope and Allison exchanged a look, both smirking at Stiles' sudden departure. They hadn't seen him run that fast in... well, ever.
"You know, for a genius, he's surprisingly dense sometimes," Hope muttered, her lips curling into an amused smile.
"Tell me about it," Allison replied, her grin widening as she watched Stiles disappear down the hall.
And just like that they gather the information about the beastiary, an old book bound in leather that Allison's grandfather may have in his office, in lock and keys. And made a plan about sneaking into his office during the game tonight. Without Stiles running a marathon, it would have been funny to watch Stiles suffer but she had a soft spot for him.
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Hope waits outside the office for Stiles to bring the keys. "What took you so long?" Hope snatches the keys to open the door.
"Uh… Lydia was crying." Hope stopped in her tracks, "Lydia is crying, why?" Hope asked worried for the first person she could call her own.
"I don't know, I told her I would come to talk later-"
"You left her while she was crying?!" Hope said in frustration.
Hope's heart raced as she heard the news about Lydia. Stiles might have had his reasons for leaving her, but Hope couldn't just sit back knowing the first person she could call her own was upset.
Without thinking, she took off, leaving Stiles holding the keys to the office. "Stiles, take care of the beastiary. I'll handle this," she called over her shoulder as she dashed down the hallway.
"Hope! Wait!" Stiles shouted after her, but Hope was already gone, her feet pounding against the floor.
She made it to the school parking lot in record time, her hand trembling slightly as she spotted Lydia's car. When she approached, she could see the glow of the interior light from outside, and through the windshield, Lydia's figure hunched over, clearly upset.
Without knocking, Hope opened the door, concern etching across her face.
"Lydia," she said softly, leaning in. "What happened? Why are you crying?"
Lydia wiped her eyes hastily, forcing a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes. "It's nothing," she said, her voice fragile. "It's stupid, really."
Hope frowned, stepping closer, her tone firm but gentle. "Lydia, don't lie. You don't need to protect me from whatever's going on. Talk to me."
Lydia shook her head, the tears threatening to spill again. "I don't even know what's happening to me, Hope. It's like… sometimes I can hear things, see things that aren't there. And I keep hearing this voice, telling me I'm losing it. Maybe I am losing it."
Hope's heart twisted with the weight of Lydia's words. She hated seeing her like this—vulnerable, unsure, lost. The girl who had always been so confident, so in control, was unraveling right in front of her.
"Lydia," Hope said quietly, her voice soft but filled with warmth, "You're not crazy. You're just... different. I know you don't believe me yet, but I've been through this too. You're not losing your mind. There's something else going on, something supernatural."
Lydia looked at her, confusion furrowing her brow. "Supernatural? What do you mean?"
Hope took a deep breath, stepping closer. "Lydia, I... I'm not exactly normal either. I have powers. Witchy powers, if you want to call them that. I've seen things—things that most people don't even know exist. I think, deep down, you might have something like that in you too."
Lydia's eyes widened. "Are you saying... I'm some kind of witch?"
Hope hesitated, but then nodded. "I think you might be. Or at least, you have the potential for something supernatural, something connected to the things we've been seeing lately."
Lydia opened her mouth to say something, but Hope cut her off before she could speak. "Look, I don't have all the answers, but I promise I'll help you figure this out. I'm not going anywhere, okay?"
Just as Lydia seemed to relax slightly at the comfort of Hope's words, Hope's phone buzzed urgently in her pocket. She pulled it out, her eyes scanning the message, and her stomach lurched.
"Stiles is in trouble," she muttered, her expression hardening. "That creature is after them."
Lydia blinked in confusion. "What creature? What are you talking about?"
"I'll explain later," Hope said quickly, her voice sharp. She could hear the panic in Stiles' voice over the phone. "I need to go. You're going to be fine, Lydia, but we'll talk more about this later. You're not alone."
Before Lydia could respond, Hope had already turned on her heel, racing out of the car and toward the pool, where she knew Stiles and Derek would be. The air crackled with tension as she ran, the ground beneath her feet a blur.
Hope arrived at the pool just as Stiles' panicked voice echoed through the night.
"Hope!" he shouted, his tone trembling with fear. "Don't come near that thing!" Stiles was waist-deep in the pool, struggling to hold a paralyzed Derek.
Her pulse raced as she took in the scene before her—the reptilian creature looming over them, its cold, predatory eyes glowing in the darkness. Time was running out.
Hope didn't hesitate. She stepped forward, her magic surging within her, focusing on the creature. She needed to act quickly.
With a sharp inhale, she raised her hand and murmured, "Motus."
The creature's body jerked to a halt, freezing mid-motion. It hissed and thrashed, its tail lashing in fury, but it couldn't move.
Hope wasted no time. She waded into the pool, using her powers to pull Stiles and Derek free from the water, lifting them both to safety.
Scott appeared moments later, rushing to tackle the creature—who, to Hope's realization, was none other than Jackson, transformed into the kanima. The memories came flooding back, vivid and sudden. It was Jackson, all right. She might've had a memory like a goldfish named Nemo, but when things clicked, they clicked.
The kanima, realizing it had been seen, scrambled away in a panic at the sight of its own reflection. Hope watched it flee, her mind still processing the sudden shift in events.