argentum_ls: Matthew McCormick (Default)
[personal profile] argentum_ls
Title: Let Loose the Inner Beast
Character: Scott McCall
Word Count: 500
Rating: PG
Warnings/Notes: Set after Scott's first full moon and written for the [livejournal.com profile] angst_bingo prompt: first transformation.
Summary: Scott reflects on becoming a werewolf.


Scott collapsed face first into his pillow and wrapped his arms over his head. Pale, early-morning light flooded his room, pressing home the fact that he had been out all night. His pillow was cool and comfortable and smelled strongly of his body. He pressed his elbows down, enclosing his head, the only protection he could manage.

He could block his head, but he couldn’t tamp down his new senses. From outside, he heard the scraping of tree branches across the siding of a house on the other side of the street, the squeaking of a hamster racing in a wheel four houses down, and the scrabbling of a raccoon digging in someone’s garbage cans on the next block. Each sound was another reminder of why he’d been out all night.

Stiles had tried to tell him. Stiles—his best friend and companion-at-arms against a school population who had ruled the boys too uncool to be noticed—had used words like bloodlust and werewolf, and Scott hadn’t believed him. Scott’s normal Stiles-to English translation filter had kicked into place and de-hyperbolized the word choice and canceled out the panic, and what he’d heard had been Stiles saying, “You’re not allowed to start dating.” It was a betrayal, a lowness that he’d never imagined Stiles sinking to. The one person who was supposed to support him in all his dating efforts turned against him, as if out of jealousy or contempt, and that had upset him.

Only, it had been worse than that. So much worse. Scott had become so angry, was so quick to anger, and it had felt good to give in. He’d never suspected how much rage was buried inside him waiting to be let out. And then it had risen up and subsumed his better nature.

He had almost punched Stiles.

He’d almost hurt someone he loved, and he knew that one day he wouldn’t be able to stop himself. Wouldn’t want to. One day, the person on the other end of his fury would be someone whom he wanted to see suffer. One day, he wouldn’t be able to convince himself that the thrill he’d felt on seeing fear in another’s eyes wasn’t horror, but delight.

Guilt from how he’d struck out, both in words and with his fist, the night before clawed at his thoughts and twisted them into endless skeins of what if. Scott shuddered and attempted to worm deeper into his bed. His whole body ached from the phantom vestiges of the transformation, and his right forearm hurt from where the crossbow bolt had pierced it.

He’d been so lucky. For all that could have gone wrong, nothing really had. This time. But the next? And the one after that? A groan pulled from his chest and he squeezed his eyes shut. Derek had insisted that Scott’d grow to like the werewolf power and abilities. And after the release the moon had given him, Scott feared that the murderer would soon be right.

Date: 2012-09-30 02:42 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] legendarytobes.livejournal.com
I really, really like this one. It's short but really horrific.

Date: 2012-10-02 04:32 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] argentum-ls.livejournal.com
Thanks :) I'm running out of time on the bingos, so stories that meet the minimum word count only are going to abound.
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