Teen Wolf : Real supernatural

The air in Beacon Hills was thick with tension. Scott McCall and his friends had barely survived their first encounter with something far worse than anything they had faced before. Demons. The very idea sent shivers down Scott's spine as he sat in the locker room, staring at the bloodstained shirt in his hands. It wasn't his blood. It wasn't even human.

Across from him, Stiles Stilinski paced, rubbing his temples. "Okay, okay… Let's just process this for a second. We've dealt with werewolves, kanimas, banshees, nogitsunes—but demons? Since when did Beacon Hills get a freaking Hellmouth?"

Lydia Martin, standing near the doorway, crossed her arms. "This isn't like anything we've faced before. That… thing wasn't just strong—it was something else entirely. I could feel it. It was like the entire air changed the second it appeared."

Scott exhaled slowly. "Deaton didn't know what it was either. He's researched everything supernatural in this town, and yet, he couldn't give us an answer."

That was the part that scared them the most. If even Deaton didn't have a clue, then they were completely blind.

Malia Tate, who had been leaning against the lockers, finally spoke. "I don't care what it was. We need to be ready if it comes back."

There was silence for a moment before Allison Argent, still gripping a silver dagger in her hand, added, "The problem is… how? How do we even prepare for something we don't understand?"

Before anyone could answer, a new voice echoed through the locker room.

"You don't."

The group spun around instantly, eyes landing on the doorway.

A man stood there, arms crossed, dressed in dark tactical gear with a long trench coat over it. His presence alone felt different, like he didn't belong in their world—but had chosen to be there anyway. He had sharp, calculating eyes and a slight smirk that made it impossible to tell whether he was amused or unimpressed.

Scott immediately felt his wolf instincts flare, as if something in his gut warned him about the predator standing before them. "Who the hell are you?"

The man took a step forward.

"Name's not important. But what is important… is that you all need to stop playing heroes before you get yourselves killed."

Stiles scoffed, stepping in front of Scott. "Oh great, another mysterious badass who talks in riddles. Listen, dude, we've been handling Beacon Hills for a while now, so why don't you—"

Before Stiles could finish, the man disappeared from sight.

In the blink of an eye, he was behind him.

The entire group tensed as Stiles flinched, feeling cold steel against his throat—a knife, resting lightly against his skin. But it wasn't the fact that he had been caught off guard that terrified them.

It was the speed.

No sound. No movement. He was just… there.

Stiles swallowed hard. "Okaaay, point taken."

Scott's eyes burned red as his claws extended. "Let him go."

The man chuckled and withdrew the knife, stepping back. "Relax, pup. If I wanted him dead, he'd be dead."

Scott clenched his fists. "Who are you?"

This time, the man actually answered.

"I'm a Hunter. Not the kind you know, though." He turned his gaze to the entire group. "You've all stepped into something much bigger than your usual supernatural problems. Demons are not something you fight. They're something you avoid—if you want to stay alive."

Allison narrowed her eyes. "So what, you're telling us to just stand by and do nothing while they attack people?"

The Hunter leader tilted his head, a slow, knowing smile forming. "I'm telling you… to stay out of our way."

Scott's breathing became heavier. "Our?"

Before the Hunter could respond, the lights in the locker room flickered. A sudden pressure filled the air, heavy and suffocating.

Then came the whispers—low, guttural, speaking a language none of them understood.

The Hunter sighed. "Tch. Too late."

The next second, the lights shattered. Darkness swallowed the room whole.

And the demon attacked.

The First Real Battle

Scott barely had time to react before something lunged at him from the darkness. He dodged, rolling to the side as the creature's claws ripped through metal lockers like paper. The others scrambled for weapons, but the moment Lydia let out a banshee scream, the thing vanished—moving too fast for the human eye to follow.

"Where is it?!" Malia growled, eyes glowing.

Then—a blur of shadows—and Allison was suddenly yanked off her feet. The demon's clawed hand wrapped around her throat, lifting her effortlessly into the air. Its face was barely visible in the flickering emergency lights, but its eyes… they were pure abyss.

Scott didn't hesitate. He lunged, claws aimed for the demon's neck—

But it wasn't there anymore.

Before anyone could even see what happened, Scott was sent flying across the room, crashing through the benches with a brutal force that left him gasping.

This thing wasn't just strong. It was unnatural.

"Scott!" Lydia shouted, running to his side.

Allison struggled against the demon's grip, stabbing at its arm with her dagger. The blade sank into its flesh—

Nothing.

It didn't even react.

Then—

BANG!

A single gunshot echoed through the locker room.

The demon screeched as something hit its shoulder, a burning light spreading through its body like wildfire. It dropped Allison instantly, twisting in rage.

The Hunter leader stood there, gun smoking, completely calm.

"Dumb bastard," he muttered. "Should've stayed hidden."

The demon charged at him—fast.

But the Hunter didn't even move.

Instead, another gunshot.

This time, the bullet hit the demon square in the chest. The moment it made contact, its body began disintegrating—white-hot flames devouring it from the inside.

Scott and the others could only watch in shock as the creature let out one final, hellish scream before collapsing into nothing but ash.

Then… silence.

The Hunter casually blew the smoke from his gun. "Holy rounds. You're welcome."

Scott pulled himself up, still catching his breath. "You—how—"

"I told you." The Hunter looked them dead in the eyes. "This is our fight."

Stiles, still looking at the pile of demon ash, muttered, "Okay… yeah, that was terrifying."

Lydia turned to the Hunter. "Who are you, really?"

The man's smirk returned, but this time, there was no amusement.

"The one who just saved your asses." He turned for the exit. "Word of advice? Stay out of things you don't understand."

Scott, ignoring his injuries, stepped forward. "We can't just ignore this."

The Hunter leader stopped. Without turning around, he said,

"You really wanna know the truth?"

The group exchanged looks. Even the Sheriff, who had been silent this whole time, looked shaken.

Scott took a deep breath. "Yes."

The Hunter finally turned to face them again. His eyes, sharp and unreadable, seemed to pierce through their very souls.

"Then be prepared," he said coldly. "Because once you see the real supernatural world—you'll never be able to go back."

With that, he left.

And Beacon Hills would never be the same again.

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End of Chapter 2