Teen Wolf : Real supernatural

Chapter 6: The Shattering Veil

Beacon Hills, Midnight

The air in Beacon Hills was thick with an unnatural tension. The scent of burning sulfur lingered, carried by the wind, a silent whisper of the horrors yet to come. The town, though appearing calm on the surface, was anything but. The Neamoton's weakening had already begun to stir forces that should never have been awakened.

Scott McCall stood on the rooftop of the school, staring out at the darkened town, his golden eyes reflecting the moonlight. The events of the past few days had shaken him—encounters with creatures far more terrifying than anything he'd faced before. Demons. That single word was enough to unravel everything he thought he knew about the supernatural.

Behind him, Stiles paced anxiously. "Okay, so let's recap," he muttered. "We've dealt with werewolves, kanimas, berserkers, evil druids, banshees, and even the Ghost Riders. But demons? Full-blown, biblical, 'fire and brimstone' kind of demons? That's a whole different playing field."

"Yeah," Scott agreed, his voice quiet. "And we almost didn't make it out alive last time."

Stiles stopped pacing, crossing his arms. "Which, by the way, I'm still trying to process. We were seconds away from dying, Scott. If that guy hadn't shown up…"

Scott exhaled sharply. "The Hunter Leader."

A chill ran through both of them at the memory. A man unlike any other hunter they had met. He had torn through the demon attacking them as if it was nothing but an insect. His power, his speed—it was overwhelming.

And more than that, his words had been a warning.

"Stay out of this. You're not ready. If you value your lives, you will forget what you saw tonight."

But how could they?

The Hunters' Council

Elsewhere, within an abandoned military bunker hidden beneath Beacon Hills, the four faction leaders gathered. The room was dimly lit, old maps of the world spread across a circular table.

The Hunter Leader leaned against the table, his arms crossed, eyes sharp with focus. He was the most feared among them, a living legend in the world of supernatural warfare. His inhuman reflexes made him a nightmare for anything he hunted, and his mastery over weapons was unmatched.

Across from him sat the Vampire Leader, a man draped in elegant black clothing, his pale fingers tapping against the table. His control over blood was terrifying, but what truly made him a monster was his ability to break enemies psychologically. He didn't just kill—he played with his prey.

The Werewolf Leader leaned back in his chair, taking a sip from a vodka bottle he had smuggled in. A giant of a man, both in personality and power, his thunder abilities made him a force of nature. He was relaxed, but everyone knew—when the time came, he would be the most brutal of them all.

The Magician Leader stood apart, flipping through an ancient tome. Unlike the others, his power wasn't physical—it was perception. He saw the flow of magic in the world, understanding it at a level no one else could. With a mere thought, he could cast spells, making him one of the deadliest beings in existence.

The room was silent, tension thick.

"The Neamoton is failing," the Magician Leader finally said, closing his book. "The rituals of the Drach are working faster than we anticipated."

The Hunter Leader exhaled, running a hand over his jaw. "Then we don't have time to wait."

The Werewolf Leader grinned. "So we're finally going to do something? Because I was getting bored."

"We can't wait any longer," the Vampire Leader agreed, his voice smooth, almost amused. "The demons are only testing us for now. If the Neamoton completely falls, this world will be lost."

A moment of silence.

Then the Hunter Leader spoke, his voice cold and final.

"We're bringing our factions to Beacon Hills."

The Shadows Stir

Somewhere deep in the forest, past the known trails, the Drach gathered. The air here was thick with dark energy, the remnants of their countless rituals poisoning the very ground they stood on.

At the center of them stood their true leader—a figure cloaked in shadows, once a noble protector, now something else entirely. His glowing red eyes were empty, devoid of the man he used to be.

The Necromancer.

In his hand, he held a skull, whispering ancient words into it. The ground trembled as skeletal figures began to rise, their empty eye sockets glowing with a malevolent light.

"The seal is breaking," he murmured, his voice like a whisper from the grave. "Soon, we will not need to hide in the darkness."

A Drach sorcerer stepped forward. "What are your orders, my lord?"

The Necromancer turned his gaze towards Beacon Hills, where he could feel the presence of the four faction leaders moving.

His former best friend was among them.

"Prepare the next ritual. We will not let them interfere."

The Warning

Scott, Stiles, Lydia, and Malia sat inside the Sheriff's station, trying to make sense of everything. Across from them, Sheriff Stilinski and Chris Argent listened carefully, their expressions grim.

"So, let me get this straight," Argent said, rubbing his temples. "You're saying we're dealing with demons now? Not just supernatural creatures, but actual demons?"

"Yes," Scott confirmed. "And something is coming. Something worse."

Sheriff Stilinski shook his head. "And you said someone saved you? A… hunter?"

Scott hesitated before nodding. "Not just any hunter. He was… different. Stronger than anything I've ever seen."

Argent leaned forward. "Did he give you his name?"

Scott shook his head. "No. But he made one thing very clear."

Chris Argent's eyes narrowed. "And that was?"

The door suddenly burst open.

The Hunter Leader stepped inside, his boots echoing against the floor. The room fell silent as his piercing eyes scanned them all.

Then, his voice cut through the air like a knife.

"You were warned."

Scott shot to his feet. "We can't just ignore this! People are dying! We need to—"

The Hunter Leader stepped forward in an instant, moving faster than any of them could react. Before Scott could even blink, he was in front of him, staring him down.

"You don't understand what you're dealing with," he said, voice like ice. "This is not your fight."

Scott clenched his fists. "It is now."

The Hunter Leader exhaled, shaking his head. "Fine. Then tell me this."

He leaned in, his voice dropping to a whisper.

"Are you ready to throw away your peaceful life? Are you ready to abandon everything you know just to chase the truth?"

Scott hesitated.

The Hunter Leader smirked. "Because once you learn it, you can never go back."

Silence.

Then, without another word, he turned and walked out.

The war had already begun.

And Beacon Hills would never be the same again.

— End of Chapter 6 —