Teen Wolf : Real supernatural

Chapter 12: The Crossroads

The Ruins of Beacon Hills High – The Aftermath

The night was heavy with the stench of burned flesh, demon blood, and gunpowder. The echoes of battle had faded, leaving behind only the eerie crackling of dying embers and the hushed breathing of survivors. Smoke curled lazily from shattered walls, and flickering emergency lights barely illuminated the devastation that had turned Beacon Hills High into a battlefield.

Bodies lay strewn across the floor—some human, others unrecognizable.

The Hunter Leader stood at the center of the destruction, his trench coat torn at the edges, blood splattered across his sleeves, though none of it seemed to belong to him. His expression was unreadable as he scanned the wreckage, his gaze sharp, calculated—a predator surveying his kill.

Behind him, Scott McCall, still panting from exertion, stared at the scene in disbelief. His claws had barely retracted, his breathing still ragged. His entire body ached—not just from the fight, but from the weight of what he had witnessed.

This wasn't like any battle they had fought before.

These things, these demons, weren't just monsters—they were something beyond supernatural.

Scott had fought countless enemies before. Alpha werewolves. Oni. The Nogitsune. The Beast of Gévaudan. But this… this was something else entirely.

His pack stood behind him—Liam, Malia, Lydia, and Argent—all shaken, all silent. Even Lydia, usually quick with answers, had none.

Chris Argent was the first to speak. His voice was low, edged with exhaustion.

"...What were they?"

The Hunter Leader didn't answer immediately. He tilted his head slightly, considering his words. Finally, he exhaled.

"Demons," he said simply. "Real ones."

Scott clenched his fists, his eyes narrowing. "That doesn't tell us anything. What are they? Where did they come from?"

The Hunter Leader finally turned to face him, his gaze unreadable.

"They come from the Abyss."

Scott felt a chill crawl down his spine.

The Abyss.

Something about that word felt wrong, like an ancient truth buried deep in his instincts—a knowledge his mind refused to grasp.

Liam swallowed hard. "The Abyss? What the hell does that even mean?"

The Hunter Leader smirked, but there was no humor in it.

"It means you're standing on the edge of something bigger than you understand. Bigger than all of you."

Scott bristled at the words.

"And you think we should just ignore it? Pretend this isn't happening?"

The Hunter Leader's gaze darkened.

"You don't have a choice," he said. "This isn't your fight. You and your pack? You're out of your depth. If you try to step into this war, you'll be nothing but casualties."

Scott clenched his jaw. "We've fought before. We've won before."

The Hunter Leader let out a low, amused breath.

"You fought werewolves and spirits. You've never fought the things that lurk beyond this world."

The words hung heavy in the air.

But Scott didn't back down.

He couldn't.

"Then teach us," he said.

The Hunter Leader raised an eyebrow.

Scott took a step forward. "If this fight is as big as you say, we need to be prepared. We need to know."

The two men locked eyes—alpha and hunter, predator and killer.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, the Hunter Leader sighed.

"Fine," he muttered. "But don't say I didn't warn you."

He turned sharply, motioning for them to follow.

"Come with me."

The Path to the Abyss

They left the ruins of the high school behind, stepping into the darkened woods surrounding Beacon Hills.

The air was thick with something unnatural. It clung to their skin, pressing down on them, whispering at the edges of their minds. The trees loomed overhead, their twisted limbs stretching like skeletal fingers against the night sky.

Lydia shivered. "Something's wrong here."

The Hunter Leader smirked slightly. "Good. That means you're paying attention."

They walked in silence until they reached a clearing.

And at the center of it lay something horrifying.

A massive sigil burned into the earth, shifting and pulsing as though alive. Dark tendrils of energy slithered across the ground, veins of corruption sinking into the soil.

Scott's stomach twisted.

Malia frowned. "What the hell is that?"

The Hunter Leader's expression hardened.

"A summoning point."

Scott tore his gaze away from the sigil. "A summoning point for what?"

The Hunter Leader didn't answer immediately. Instead, he reached out, placing his palm over the sigil.

A pulse of holy light erupted from his hand, illuminating the clearing. The darkness recoiled, writhing like a wounded animal.

And that's when they saw them—other sigils, hidden beneath the shadows.

Hundreds of them.

Interconnected.

Scott's chest tightened. "How many of these are there?"

The Hunter Leader exhaled sharply.

"Too many."

Scott clenched his fists.

"And they're all connected," the Hunter Leader continued. "The Drach have been planting these across Beacon Hills. Strengthening them. When they're ready, they'll use them to bring something through that even I might not be able to stop."

Silence fell over the group.

Lydia swallowed hard. "Then we stop them before that happens."

The Hunter Leader smirked slightly. "That's the first smart thing I've heard from you tonight."

Scott took a deep breath.

They weren't ready for this.

But they had no choice.

The war was coming.

And they were standing at the crossroads.

— End of Chapter 12 —