After Styles left, Scott felt a familiar sense of clarity wash over him. The clarity of knowing what's coming, and yet, the thrill of uncertainty in how his actions were shifting the timeline. He grabbed his phone and dialed a number he hadn't called in a while. The line clicked, and his father's voice came through, slightly gruff but familiar.
"Scott? What's up?"
"Hey, Dad. I was thinking... I need a car," Scott said, skipping the pleasantries and getting right to the point.
There was a moment of silence on the other end. "A car?" his father echoed, sounding a little thrown off.
"Yeah. Something reliable, nothing too flashy," Scott said, casually leaning back. "It's about time you did something for me, don't you think?"
His father chuckled, but there was an edge to it, a hint of unease. "You know, your mom and I—"
"Mom's already doing enough. It's your turn." Scott's voice was firm but not angry. He wasn't the same kid who'd flinch at the thought of confrontation. He knew what he deserved.
After a brief pause, his father relented. "Alright, I'll look into it. We'll talk later."
"Thanks, Dad," Scott said, hanging up before his father could say anything else.
With that out of the way, Scott stood up and stretched, feeling the strength of his enhanced body radiate through his muscles. He decided to spend the rest of the day training—if he was going to face bigger threats than before, he had to be prepared. But the hours flew by, and after a dull afternoon at school, he headed straight to the animal clinic for work.
---
The next day, after another mind-numbing class, Scott and Stiles found themselves trudging through the Beacon Hills Preserve. The woods were dense, the air thick with the smell of pine and damp earth. They had returned to where everything started—where Scott had been bitten, and where they had found the body. This time, though, the sun was shining, casting long shadows through the trees as they made their way deeper into the preserve.
"Remind me again why we're doing this in broad daylight?" Stiles asked, stepping over a fallen log and shooting a wary glance at the thick forest around them.
Scott smirked. "Because last time we did it in the dark, we got attacked by a werewolf, remember?"
"Yeah, but now that *you're* a werewolf, shouldn't we be safer?" Stiles quipped, trying to sound nonchalant but failing miserably. His nerves were clearly on edge.
Scott chuckled but his senses were on high alert, scanning their surroundings. He knew something was coming. The unease in his stomach wasn't just from their usual jaunts into the woods. Something else was wrong.
Suddenly, a shadowy figure appeared ahead of them, stepping out from behind the trees. Scott's eyes narrowed, recognizing the man instantly even though this was technically their first meeting.
Derek Hale.
Stiles' reaction was immediate, his face shifting from cautious to full-on panic mode. "Oh, great, *him*," he whispered harshly.
Derek's steely gaze flicked from Stiles to Scott, assessing them both before he spoke, his voice low and threatening. "You're trespassing. This is private property."
Scott took a step forward, completely unfazed by Derek's attempt at intimidation. He knew exactly who Derek was—and what he was. This wasn't the shy, nervous Scott of the original timeline. This was someone who knew *everything* about Derek Hale and wasn't the least bit scared.
"We're not here for your land," Scott said coolly, his tone laced with amusement. "We're here for something else. You wouldn't happen to know about a rogue alpha wolf, would you?"
Derek's eyes darkened. "You need to leave."
Stiles tugged at Scott's sleeve, nervously glancing between the two of them. "Scott, let's just go, man. This guy looks like he eats people for breakfast."
But Scott didn't budge. He kept his gaze locked on Derek, his voice light but cutting. "You're a wolf too, aren't you? But not the one we're looking for."
Derek's expression hardened, his jaw clenching as tension filled the air.
"You don't know what you're talking about," Derek growled, his eyes flashing a warning.
Scott raised an eyebrow. "Oh, I do. But you're not the alpha we're after. He's much stronger than you."
The words hung in the air for a moment before Derek snapped. His roar echoed through the forest, powerful and deafening, but Scott didn't even flinch. While Stiles jumped back, practically tripping over his own feet, Scott stood his ground, his expression calm.
"I get it, you like to growl," Scott said, his voice laced with mock amusement. "But seriously, Derek, there's no need to roar. If you have something to say, just say it like a normal person."
Derek's fists clenched, his anger flaring, but before anything else could happen, a foul stench hit them.
Scott's nose wrinkled immediately. It was horrible—a mix of rot and stagnant water, like the smell of a run-down port that hadn't seen a cleaning crew in decades.
"Ugh, what is *that*?" Stiles exclaimed, covering his nose with his sleeve.
Scott's stomach churned as the smell grew stronger.
And then, out of the shadows, it came.
A demon-like creature.
Scott's eyes widened as he recognized the creature that stepped into view. It was exactly as he remembered from the stories and video games: a monstrous humanoid with gray, decayed skin, hairless, and eyes as white as a blank canvas. Its fingers were long and bony, tipped with sharp claws, and its mouth was filled with jagged, yellow teeth. The stench radiated from it, suffocating and vile.
The creature stared at them with a kind of hunger that sent a shiver down even Scott's spine. But the thing that worried Scott most wasn't its claws or its teeth—it was the way the creature's gaze locked onto Stiles, like he was the most appetizing thing it had seen in a while.
Stiles froze, his voice barely a whisper. "What...What is that?"
Even Derek seemed taken aback, his usual stoic expression faltering for just a moment as his eyes darted to Scott, silently questioning whether this thing was the rogue wolf they'd been searching for.
But Scott knew better. This wasn't part of the original timeline. No creature like this one had ever appeared in Beacon Hills, not in the teen wolf series at least.
Scott's eyes narrowed as he took a step toward the creature, putting himself between it and Stiles. "Well, this is new," he muttered under his breath, then glanced at Derek and Stiles with a wry smile. "Alright, my friends, that right there is a Ghoul. Nasty, demon-like thing. Usually hangs around graveyards at night, but clearly, this one decided to come out and play early."
Stiles' eyes widened. "A... Ghoul? Like from video games?"
Scott nodded, his gaze locked on the creature. "Yep. Likes to eat human flesh."
Stiles paled. "Wait, what?! Flesh-eating... like some kind of zombie?"
"Not quite," Scott said, keeping his eyes locked on the creature as it took another step forward, its claws scraping against the ground. "But close enough."
The ghoul let out a low, guttural growl, the sound sending shivers down their spines. It crouched low, its greedy eyes fixed on Stiles as it prepared to pounce.
Scott's lips curled into a confident smirk. He'd dealt with monsters in games before, and now he was about to deal with one in real life.
He cracked his knuckles, his body coiled with the readiness of a hunter. "Derek, don't interfere," he said, his voice steady. "Stiles, stay back. I'm going to kill it."
Before Derek could protest or Stiles could freak out further, Scott's gaze sharpened, his wolf side beginning to surface.