With Tristan and Kira gone, Lydia and Malia still sleeping, Scott was the only supernatural left in the living room and normally that would not have been a point of importance except that something had changed in the young werewolf and Stiles felt it but had thought maybe he just wasn’t in the best of moods.

“Hey Scotty, you sure you’re okay? You’re kinda looking pale there, buddy.” He looked over at Scott but his best friend once again gave him a noncommittal answer. 

“I’ll see if I can get something from Boyd to eat.” Scott said as he stood up and made a beeline for the kitchen. 

“Need something?” Boyd asked upon seeing him. 

“Maybe. I don’t really know.” Scott said. “Mind fixing me a bite?” 

“Sure, no problem.” Boyd sent him a thumbs up and increased the number of sandwiches he was making but then paused as he felt someone’s presence, only to turn and see Scott still lounging in the kitchen. “Okay, I’ll bite. Spill it, ‘cause something is definitely on your mind.”

Scott twisted his lips as if debating whether or not to tell Boyd whatever was in his mind. Ultimately he threw his hands up and decided to go for it. 

“What do you think of Tristan?” Scott asked. 

Boyd frowned at the nature of the question and the tone it had set for more of Scott’s questions, if he had more. 

“Is that a trick question or something?” Boyd responded jokingly but the lack of a smile or any humorous expression on Scott’s face showed how serious the question was. 

“Well, he’s my best friend. What more can I say after that? He’s antisocial, hates long chatter, hates extra gossip, has a bad habit of outright ignoring people for no good reason, and what more can I add? Honestly, as far as I am concerned, these can very well be his good habits.”

Boyd was out of the loop in understanding where Scott was coming from, no matter how much he thought about it. As far as he knew, Tristan wasn’t at odds with them for the longest time now. Just the fact that they could sit with them at school and that Tristan allowed them into his house was proof of that. 

“Did he piss you off unknowingly maybe? I’m sorry but he does that all the time so I’d advise not to take it to heart.” Boyd said and went back to coupling his sandwiches together. 

“He’s too greedy. Has been from the very first day he arrived at school.”

“Huh?” Boyd turned around, hoping his ears weren’t working well so he could doubt what he just heard. 

“First of all, he quickly became lacrosse co-captain without ever playing it before while I struggled for a spot for years. Then Allison and Lydia started hanging out with him every single second of the day. I was supposed to be the True Alpha but he was the one who became the Primearch, and even before then he was practically as strong as an Alpha even though we were both betas. He acts like everyone should listen to his words as if he’s some super smart asshole! Even the new student, Kira, got trapped in his flow and today he saved a lot of the students at school. And yet… And Yet… AND YET HE ACTS LIKE HE DOESN’T CARE AT ALL!”

Boyd’s mind completely blanked out when listening to Scott’s words that quickly changed the tone from jealous complaints to hateful vitriol and he couldn’t think words into sentences because of how stupefied he was. 

“What in the fucking fuck?!” Were the only comprehensible words Boyd could vocalize. Was Scott losing his marbles? 

“Hey Scott, are you guys alright in there?” He heard Stiles shout from the living room but he was too stunned to reply as he kept staring at Scott who was now calming down after hyperventilating harshly. 

“I see now. If he wants to act as if he doesn’t care then I should just take them off his hands so that they won’t bother him anymore.” Scott’s mumbling was clearly heard by Boyd who took two steps back from the kitchen counter as he saw a literal dark gleam in Scott’s eyes. 

“Um, guys-” Before he could complete his warning, Scott quickly closed the distance between them which scared Boyd that he punched out on reflexive instincts but Scott easily caught them and in a swift movement knocked Boyd’s lights out by banging his head on the kitchen counter. 

Just at that moment, Stiles and Allison entered the kitchen and saw Boyd’s body slipping to the ground from Scott’s hands. 

“Grab her, Stiles. This way we can take away everything Tristan holds dear.” A visible dark smile marred his face which contrasted dangerously with his glowing golden eyes. 

“Scott, snap out of it! What has gotten into you?” Stiles shouted at him. 

Scott’s current complexion was grey pale with darkened lips and dark veined sunken eyes that was topped off with the manic smile on his face. 

“That’s not Scott, Stiles. He’s been possessed.” Allison said and pulled out two daggers from her inner jackets. 

“You carry those to school?” Stiles asked. 

“Focus, Stiles.” Allison chided and stood in between him and Scott who was now circling them in the same way animals circled their helpless prey. 

Scott jumped at Allison and swiped down with his claws, forcing Allison to shuffle back and narrowly dodge it with how small the kitchen space was for strenuous movements. 

They slowly backed up to the living room where Scott immediately attacked Allison who smoothly dodged both of his hands and sent a kick to his stomach that forced him to stumble back. 

Allison wasn’t afraid of a beta werewolf, less one that was in a frenzy, but that was her slight miscalculation. Scott wasn’t in frenzy but was under possession, meaning behavioral patterns went out the window and in came experience. 

When she slashed her daggers, what she didn’t expect was that Scott would forego his protection and let it pierce into his wrist which put her in range for him to grab her neck, raise her off the ground, and throw her to the wall with enough force to knock her out. 

THWACK! 

Scott fell to his knees as Stiles smacked him in the head with a pestle he found in the kitchen but unfortunately that wasn’t enough to knock the possessed Scott out. 

“You damned traitor!” Scott angrily lashed out and backhanded Stiles so roughly that he flew from the living room into the dining table. Effortlessly knocked out with a bleeding head to show for it. 

Scott walked towards Allison and ran one of his claws across her cheeks with enough force to draw out a long line of blood. 

“How tasty, but unfortunately for you I cannot allow that usurper to continue living so carefree. You can take consolation in the fact that the pain of loss will make him appreciate you more than he does… or at least the memories will.”

His hand was raised up in the air, five clawed out fingers spread wide to rip open jagged lines across her throat. 

“I’d think twice before I twitch any more fingers if I were you.” A voice came from behind him and startled him that it immediately kicked in his flight instincts. 

He attempted to jump away but couldn’t as he found out that Malia was holding his outstretched hand while coldly glaring down at him. 

“You twitched your fingers.” Malia softly muttered in a state of false calm. 

CRACK. SNAP. 

Two simple twists of her wrist had Scott’s wrist twisted in foreign directions with his bones jutting out. 

Very slowly, her eyes lit up in an azure blue before turning into a furious red, terrifying Scott who was being stared down directly by them. 

She grabbed his mouth to prevent his screams from ringing out and slowly raised him off the floor, her eyes not leaving him for a moment. 

It was very unsettling for Scott who was used to her sporadic tempers and angry tantrums to see her so calm in a situation that would have for sure sent her over the edge of her sanity – at least from what Scott’s influenced mind knew about her. 

“Boyd and Allison. You really wanted to kill them, didn’t you?” She asked softly, the calm in her voice never wavering. 

“I’ll make you wish you were dead. Possessed or not.” Saying that, Malia slowly brought up her other hand for Scott to see clearly what she was about to do to him. 

Her black claws slowly came out, longer than Scott’s brownish beta claws, and under Scott’s pleading eyes, she slowly and methodologically sunk her claws into his stomach. 

She could feel his innards around her claws that a simple flexing of her fingers lacerated whatever membrane, tissue or intestines that were around them. 

All that could be heard in the room was Scott’s muffled screams and sobs as Malia slowly twisted her fingers inside his stomach, leading to greater nerve-shooting pain. 

She only stopped after her shirt and hand  was all bloody, which was minutes after Scott had passed out from the hellish torture. 

He might have gotten his mind back halfway through the torture or at the very beginning when she broke his wrists but she didn’t care. It was the last strand of sanity in her, telling her that she knew he was possessed and his mind was being messed with, that stayed her hand on 14 different occasions where she wanted to slit his throat. 

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