Teen Wolf: Savage Roots
Chapter 8 — The Boy in the Woods
The morning didn't feel right.
Even the sunlight over Beacon Hills felt… off.
Inside the clinic, Scott McCall stood near the window, still thinking about what happened the night before.
That voice.
Those words.
You carry something that belongs to me.
His jaw tightened.
Then the door opened.
Liam Dunbar walked in quickly.
"Scott."
Scott turned.
"What's up?"
Liam crossed his arms.
"There's been reports."
Scott frowned.
"Reports of what?"
"People camping out in the woods," Liam said. "They've been talking about something out there."
Scott's expression sharpened.
"What kind of something?"
Liam shrugged slightly.
"A monster. Something moving fast. Watching them."
A pause.
"Stiles already went to check it out."
Scott blinked.
"…Of course he did."
Liam smirked faintly.
"He said it's probably just a werewolf not in control."
Scott didn't smile.
"Or a human," Liam added.
That made Scott move.
"I'm going," he said.
---
The forest was quiet.
Too quiet.
Sunlight cut through the trees as Scott walked deeper, his footsteps cracking small pieces of wood beneath his shoes.
He stopped.
Closed his eyes.
Placed his hand against the bark of a tree.
And breathed in.
The scent hit him instantly.
Human.
Young.
Scared.
Scott opened his eyes.
"…Got you."
He followed the trail.
---
At Beacon Hills High School—
Coach slammed a paper onto his desk.
"FOR THREE DAYS?!"
Standing in front of him, Stiles Stilinski nodded.
"Yes. Three days, Coach. Just cancel the game."
Coach stared at him.
"Stiles… no."
He tapped the paper.
"On my dead grandmother, I am not canceling this game."
Stiles blinked.
"…If she's dead, why are you putting it on her?"
Coach didn't even hesitate.
"Because if I change my mind, I don't have to worry about her dying again."
Stiles paused.
"…That's actually—okay, no, that's still insane."
He leaned forward.
"Coach, listen to me. This is serious. It's not gonna be good if you guys play."
Coach leaned back in his chair, arms crossed.
"And why shouldn't I allow the match to play?"
Stiles hesitated.
"…You don't have to know."
Coach burst out laughing.
"Mockingly, Biles—"
"It's Stiles."
"That's what I said."
"No, you said Biles."
Coach waved it off.
"Doesn't matter. Do you know how much money I'm gonna get if we win this game?"
Stiles looked at his fingers.
"…A few thousand?"
Coach shot up.
"FOUR THOUSAND SEVENTY-SEVEN DOLLARS!"
Stiles blinked.
"…Godly."
---
Far away…
Somewhere that didn't belong to this world—
Footsteps echoed.
Then stopped.
A voice spoke.
"My lord… everything is prepared."
Silence.
Then—
A tapping sound.
Slow.
Unnatural.
A hand… if it could be called that… striking against something unseen.
The voice returned.
Deep.
Endless.
"I see."
A pause.
"I have seen them."
Another tap.
"A banshee… strong, yet fragile."
Tap.
"A True Alpha… carrying power he does not understand."
A low laugh.
"How… disappointing."
The presence shifted—
Not moving.
Not existing.
Yet somehow closer.
It reached forward—
Touching the face of the one kneeling before it.
"How beautiful… my creation is."
Then—
A snap.
The body dropped instantly.
Dead.
No struggle.
No chance.
The being tilted its head slightly.
"I like the smell of fear."
A pause.
Then a soft, almost amused sound.
"…And I smell it."
Another pause.
"…In the forest."
A quiet, dark laugh followed.
---
Back in the forest—
Scott stopped walking.
"…What am I even doing?" he muttered. "There's nobody here."
He smiled faintly.
Then slowly turned his head.
"That's what you'd like me to say."
His voice dropped.
"Come out, kid."
Silence.
Scott didn't move.
"I'm not saying it three times."
A rustle.
From behind a tree—
A boy stepped out.
Around seventeen.
Black hair.
Clothes torn, dirty.
Eyes sharp.
Both of them stared at each other.
Then the boy spoke.
"You're an Alpha."
Scott smiled slightly.
"What's your name?"
The boy hesitated.
"…Johnathan."
Scott stepped forward slowly, extending his hand.
"Nice to meet you, Johnathan."
The boy didn't take it.
Scott tilted his head.
"Your name means brave guardian."
Johnathan frowned.
"…What does that mean?"
Scott lightly tapped his head.
"It means you're stronger than you think."
Then Scott's tone shifted.
"What are you doing out here?"
Johnathan answered quickly.
"I got lost."
Scott didn't even blink.
"…Stop lying."
Johnathan smiled.
Then suddenly—
He attacked.
A fast punch—
Scott caught it mid-air without effort.
Johnathan's eyes flashed yellow.
"Give me everything you've got," he growled.
He slashed forward—
Scott dodged.
Johnathan moved faster—
A double kick—
Scott stepped back.
Punches followed—
Scott blocked them all.
Then—
Scott struck.
A clean punch to the face—
Spin—
Kick—
Johnathan flew back, crashing into a tree.
The trunk cracked behind him.
Scott slipped one hand into his pocket, calm.
"Relax, kid."
"You remind me of myself."
A pause.
"…Just angrier."
Johnathan got up, roaring.
"SHUT UP!"
He ripped a small tree from the ground—
And threw it.
Scott punched it mid-air.
It shattered instantly.
Scott's eyes glowed red.
Johnathan froze.
Fear hit him.
Hard.
Scott stepped forward slightly.
"Come here."
Johnathan slowly walked toward him.
No fight left.
Scott looked at him.
"It's not a good idea to fight people for no reason."
Johnathan lowered his head.
"I'm sorry…"
His voice softened.
"I was just trying to eat something."
Scott sighed.
Then pulled off his shirt and handed it to him.
"Put this on."
Johnathan looked surprised.
Scott turned and started walking.
"Come on."
Johnathan followed.
Scott glanced at him.
"Tell me your story."
As they disappeared deeper into the forest—
The wind picked up again.
And somewhere…
Something watched.
Still smiling. 🐺