The human monster of teen wolf

I woke up early, still thinking about the events of last night. After making myself breakfast, taking a quick shower, and getting ready, I decided to head over to Scott's house.

When I knocked on the door, it was Ms. McCall who answered with her usual gentle smile.

"Oh, hi Kai. What brings you here so early?" she asked.

"Hi, Ms. McCall. I'm here to pick up Scott for school," I replied politely.

"Alright, come in. I'll go get him," she said, heading upstairs to Scott's room.

I made myself comfortable on the couch in the living room. A few minutes later, Scott came down, looking slightly groggy but alert enough.

"Hey, Scott. I figured I'd give you a ride to school today—and maybe we could talk about last night," I said.

Scott nodded without hesitation, and we left the house. Once in the car, I brought up the topic of the hunters and the Alpha werewolf.

"So… it's Derek, right?" Scott asked, his brow furrowed.

"No, it's not Derek," I corrected. "He's a werewolf like you, but he's an Omega. You're a Beta right now, which means you're part of the Alpha's pack—whether you like it or not."

"What's the difference? Can any werewolf turn people into werewolves?" Scott asked, clearly trying to piece everything together.

"No. Only Alphas can turn someone. Derek and you aren't Alphas, so that's not something either of you can do," I explained.

Scott thought about it for a moment before asking another question. "What does it mean to be an Omega?"

"Omega means a werewolf without a pack. They're basically lone wolves. And lone wolves… they don't tend to survive long without a pack. That's why I think you should consider allying with Derek. Either as a friend or at least as someone to help take down the Alpha."

By the time we pulled into the school parking lot, Scott seemed lost in thought. But before we got out of the car, he hit me with the question I'd been expecting.

"Is there a cure?" Scott asked, his voice filled with hope.

I sighed, looking at him with sad eyes. "No. There's no cure. This is who you are now, Scott. Forever."

Scott's shoulders sagged slightly, the weight of my words sinking in. But he nodded, as if steeling himself for the road ahead.

Before Scott got out of the car, I stopped him.

"Scott," I said, my tone firm but understanding. "Control your anger. Anger triggers your werewolf side, so try to keep it under control."

He nodded, acknowledging the advice, and stepped out of the car.

The rest of the school day passed uneventfully—a rare moment of calm amidst the brewing storm. After the final bell rang, I headed to the lacrosse field. I already knew Scott and Stiles would be there, practicing as usual.

Sure enough, I found them on the field. Scott was practicing hard, with Stiles offering his usual mix of awkward but well-meaning encouragement.

In the distance, I spotted Derek standing at the edge of the field, half-hidden in the shadows. His focus was locked on Scott, watching his every move intently. For now, Derek seemed content to observe, his expression unreadable.

Then Jackson entered the scene, making his presence known in the worst way. He tackled Scott hard, his smug smirk almost daring a reaction. As Scott crouched down, catching his breath, Jackson leaned in to taunt him further.

I could see the frustration building in Scott's posture. Coach, ever oblivious, walked over, delivering one of his infamous "motivational speeches." But instead of helping, it only seemed to fan the flames of Scott's anger.

I stayed on the sidelines, quietly observing, ready to step in if things went too far. This moment was critical for Scott—he needed to find a way to control the wolf within him, or risk letting it control him.

Scott, fueled by frustration and anger, got ready and charged forward, tackling Jackson hard. The impact was brutal, and I could see the pain etched across Jackson's face as he struggled to recover.

Not long after, I noticed Scott and Stiles leaving the field in a hurry. I knew exactly what was about to happen, so I quietly followed them, staying close but out of sight.

When I entered the locker room, the tension in the air was almost suffocating. Scott was pacing, his breathing ragged and uneven. Then, in an instant, he turned on Stiles, his eyes glowing fiercely and his posture predatory. He was on the brink of losing control.

I didn't hesitate. I rushed forward, grabbing Scott and holding him back with all my strength. He struggled, his enhanced power evident, but I held firm.

"Stiles!" I shouted, my voice urgent. "Get the fire extinguisher and spray it on him! Now!"

Stiles, wide-eyed and panicked, fumbled for the extinguisher. Within seconds, he aimed it at Scott and released a burst of cold, white foam. The sudden chill and shock seemed to snap Scott out of his feral state.

He staggered, his glowing eyes fading back to normal as he slumped against the locker, gasping for breath. I let go of him, but stayed close, just in case.

"Scott," I said, my tone steady but firm. "This is exactly why you need to control your emotions. You can't let the wolf take over like this. Not ever."

Stiles, still holding the extinguisher like a lifeline, nodded in agreement. "Yeah, man. That was... way too close."

"When practice ends, come to my house. We need to talk," I said, my tone serious.

They both nodded, exchanging a quick glance, and I turned to leave, heading home to prepare for what would undoubtedly be a complicated conversation.

An hour later, a knock at the door broke the silence. I opened it to find Scott and Stiles standing there. "Come on in," I said, stepping aside to let them enter.

We settled in the front room, the air heavy with anticipation. I leaned forward, clasping my hands together. "So, I'm guessing Scott caught you up about me," I began, my eyes flicking between the two of them.

Stiles nodded, his curiosity practically radiating off him.

"Do you have questions?" I asked, knowing full well they did.

Stiles wasted no time. "Yeah, how do you know about werewolves?" he asked, leaning forward, his eyes narrowed in curiosity. Scott, sitting next to him, looked at me just as intently, clearly wanting the same answer.

I paused for a moment, gathering my thoughts. "It's... complicated," I said carefully. "But I'll tell you what I can. I've learned about them over the years—what they are, what they can do, their strengths and their weaknesses. I've seen what happens when someone doesn't control their abilities. That's why I'm helping Scott. Because I don't want to see him spiral out of control or get hurt."

Stiles tilted his head, unconvinced. "That's a lot of knowledge for someone who's supposedly just... been around. Are you sure there's nothing more you're not telling us?"

I met his gaze evenly. "I'm sure. But if you're expecting some grand conspiracy or wild explanation, you're going to be disappointed. What matters now is making sure Scott is ready for what's coming."

Scott shifted uncomfortably. "What's coming?"

I sighed. "A lot. But let's take it one step at a time. For now, let's focus on helping you learn to control your abilities and keep yourself safe."

They both nodded, though Stiles still seemed skeptical. I knew that wouldn't be the end of his questions, but for now, it would have to do.