Derek Hale - Chapter 2

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In a room not far from her own, Derek Hale was waking to a new nightmare. Even before he opened his eyes, he knew that he wasn't at home. There were numerous scents lying in the air, none familiar, but one was sticking out, overwhelming to his sensitive nose. It was the stench of decay and death and it instantly made his skin crawl.

He opened his eyes and sat up with a start. It took him a moment to adjust to the twilight in the room. Confused in his new surroundings, he looked around. He remembered falling asleep in his loft in Beacon Hills after a regular day. He had done his workout routine, taken a quick shower before he had gone to sleep. And now he was here, in a dusty double bed in what looked like an old hotel room. Everything was old and even though the mattress and the bed sheets he had slept on seemed to be fairly fresh, the curtains that covered the windows, the carpet and the furniture were old, moldy and already rotting. And above all of that lay the disgusting stench of death.

Derek frowned in confusion, the first tentacles of fear taking hold within his mind. He wasn't really scared yet but his uneasiness was growing fast. Had he been sleepwalking, somehow ending up here? He had done that as a kid, usually around the time of the full moon, before he was able to control the transformation properly but since then he was perfectly under control. So it was highly unlikely. Maybe this was some kind of sick joke his friends were playing on him? A prank of some sorts? But somehow he knew that this wasn't true either. As a werewolf he had strong instincts, instincts he usually relied on and all of them were screaming at him that something was very wrong.

He finally got up from the old bed, studying his surroundings more closely. Now, where his nose had gotten used to the stench of decay he could smell other things. Mold, dust, rotting wood and fabric and there also was the faint trace of blood. The latter was the only scent that definitely wasn't old and his gaze was drawn towards the door since it seemed to come from somewhere outside this room.

Derek took a step towards the only drawer first though and was suddenly greeted by his own reflection in a large mirror that was mounted to the wall. He was wearing a plain black T-shirt and Cargo pants with a lot of pockets. They were empty as he found out after a quick check. They definitely weren't his though and he was even surer that he hadn't put them on himself. His hand automatically flew up to his face, running over his stubble with familiar habit. He usually shaved only once a week and he remembered that he had shaved two days ago but the state of his facial hair indicated that it was longer.

What on earth had happened? Where the hell was he? What was going on here?

He was breathing faster now, not able to suppress the fear entirely any longer. And then he heard it. Some strange sound, almost like a human moan coming from just behind the closed door and Derek froze on the spot. The stench of decay got stronger and even though everything inside of him screamed to not open the door, he took a tentative step towards it. And then another until his hand touched the cool door handle. He hesitated again, his instincts telling him to turn and run but he needed to know and his hand engaged the handle to open it with a light creak.

And Derek Hale looked at something from a nightmare.

He smashed the door into the creatures face as hard and as fast as he could, leaning against it from the inside in order to prevent this thing from coming in. The fear he had felt earlier blossomed into a full-blown panic attack now. Even though he had met his fair share of supernatural creatures during his life, he never had seen anything like this before.

Maggots were crawling through the socket where the left eye of the young, blonde and once pretty woman had been. The other eye that could have been blue at one point, now covered with a thin white film stared at him with hunger, nothing even remotely human lying inside of it any longer. Its decaying hand stretched out into his direction, ready to grasp him, a horrible strangling moan escaping from it's throat. There was a hole in one of her cheeks and he could see the creature's teeth, encrusted in blood and something he really didn't wanted to identify.

Derek's eyes were wide in shock and horror while he stared blindly at the opposing wall. He had no idea what this creature was but he was pretty sure that it was deadly. Also, judging by the stench that was lying in the air, there definitely was more than one of those things around. He closed his eyes for a moment and took a deep breath, trying to calm down and also trying to get rid of that mental image but the picture seemed to have imprinted itself on his retinas and the dead face kept staring at him. Having his eyes closed definitely wasn't helping and so he opened them again, suddenly realizing that his fangs and claws were protruding. He was in the middle of shifting into a werewolf and Derek focused on his breathing as he had learned until he slowly managed to get himself under control again.

He took in the room once more, while summarizing what he knew. It wasn't much but it helped to distract and calm him down. He had no memories on how he got here. Someone had put him into this room with these creatures around. He knew that he would have to leave eventually in order to find food and water. So he would have to fight those creatures. He had no idea why he was here and what the scheme behind all this was but it wasn't the first time he was in lethal danger and he would find a way to survive, he always did. He knew that he needed to be rational about this now; there was no time for panic even though he could smell his own stench. It was fear, so whom was he kidding?

That creature outside the door though...

Now, after the door had been open once he could smell the faint scent of another person in the hotel. Female. Human. Could it be her blood he detected in the air? He heard the strange wail from the door again, fingernails scratching against surface in order to gain entrance and he focused on his hearing. There was another set of footsteps by now so there already were two of them. Derek clenched his jaws in frustration. He needed to leave this room fast else he would be trapped. Usually when fighting he used his claws and his teeth but alone the thought of getting in close contact with the decaying flesh and blood of those creatures made him cringe. Claws, maybe. Teeth, definitely not. He needed a weapon, preferably something that could kill from a distance and his eyes fell onto an old chair that was standing in the corner.

Only a minute later he was ready, or as ready as one could get in this kind of situation. His hand held his makeshift weapon tightly. It was only the leg of the chair but it would do. It would have to. Before he approached the door again though, he quickly went over to one of the windows covered by a curtain to carefully peek outside. Maybe he needed to escape the building and then it was better to get an idea of where he actually was. The landscape wasn't telling him anything. This house seemed to be located on a hill but other than that there were only non-descriptive trees and a lawn. A few of those creatures were shuffling around outside, confirming his fears that there were more. He studied them for a moment. They didn't seem to be walking with a purpose, they just were. He knew that he couldn't waste any more time now tough and lowered the curtain back into place. Bracing himself for the sight and the stench, he then walked over towards the door, opened it again and stepped into the nightmare.

As he had anticipated, he immediately was faced by two of the creatures. The makeshift stake actually worked well to keep them at bay and pushing it forward forcefully he managed to impale them with it. But they didn't die. Quite the opposite actually. They still tried to come forward in order to reach him, therefore pushing the stake deeper and deeper into their dead bodies. The smell was more than just bad and Derek had a hard time suppressing his disgust. His instincts screamed at him to just turn and run, his thoughts frantic within his mind. How could these be killed? Could they be killed at all? Why didn't they just die?

But at the same time and only judging on their behavior Derek realized that those creatures were nothing but instinct-driven. They hadn't even tried to dodge him, they didn't try to be released from the stake again and they also didn't work together. They were solely driven to get to him and then what? Kill him? Eat him? He definitely didn't intended to stick around long enough to find out.

He kicked at the front corpse hard while pulling his stake out of the bodies again at the same time. It came out easily, followed by a long line of intestines, which increased the stench furthermore and this time Derek couldn't suppress a gag. The longing for some fresh air was overwhelming but first he had to get rid of these two because he could hear more noises from the corridor behind him already. Using the chair leg like a baseball bat he swung and landed a hard hit against the first corpses head. The skull collapsed underneath the impact and that seemed to have done the trick. The corpse slumped to the ground and didn't move any longer. Derek repeated this with the second one and it worked again. He towered over them for some more moments, ready to beat the shit out of them if they only moved so much as a finger but these two definitely wouldn't get up again. A deep relief flooded him; they could be killed after all.

For some reasons he couldn't quite fathom, he then made the effort to close the door to his room. It just felt weird to leave it open. By now he only took shallow breaths through his mouth, trying to not use his nose at all but that also meant that he wouldn't be able to follow the trail of the woman's scent and the blood in the air. For a moment he considered to not seek her out but to actually leave this place instead and make a run for the woods he had seen from his window. It was a tempting thought since there would be fresh air. He probably would be able to find out where he was and escape from this horrible place and creatures but he hesitated. He needed answers and maybe the woman could give them since she seemed to be the only other living thing around.

After making his decision, he didn't waste any more time. He hastened through the corridor, passing doors where he heard more of the corpses behind. So far those doors were closed though. The concept of a door handle apparently was too elaborate for those things but this place was a nightmare nonetheless, crawling with them and he clung tightly to the leg chair, only hoping that the wood was still strong enough to survive more of those hard blows. It didn't take long to locate the trail of blood that beckoned him. Giving him a moment of relief followed shortly after with grief when a fractured door not far from him finally gave beneath the weight and collapsed into the hallway. The creatures spilled out into the hall.

Derek had no idea how he had survived the next few minutes. His brain had stopped trying to process what was going on and he had allowed his instincts to take over. This made it slightly easier in a way because he didn't have to deal with all the emotional impacts of the things he was seeing while he fought, even though he knew that those pictures would catch up with him eventually.

The small pack soon lay dormant at his feet. A small triumph in the grand scheme of where he was and the nightmare that was unfolding. Suddenly a piece of paper, carefully folded beside the head of one of the fallen drew his attention. It had a smear of blood across the back of it, not really significant given the situation, but the scent coming off of it was what directed him to pick it up.

Your time is short. You are the prey. Slit your wrist and start the trail. Carry nothing but your crimson breadcrumbs and this letter. Beware, for he is not the only hunter. Find your end in the basement.

Derek frowned at the piece of paper, quickly studying the blood on the floor again that led back to another room. This whole situation had gotten even crazier now. It seemed as if the unknown woman had been following the instructions on this letter. Why? Who was she? And who had written this letter? Was the person aware that he was a werewolf? Was she? He usually kept that a well-hidden secret but the letter described her as prey and him as a hunter. At least he assumed himself the hunter. It was the only logical explanation outside the corpses. He ran his hand through his short black hair in desperation. He definitely needed to find that woman and even without following her trail of blood he now knew where she was. In the basement.

Wanting to know where she started, hoping to find some other clue to piece together what was happening; he followed the trail of blood back to another room. The door was open and he peered into it cautiously, prepared to attack if necessary. It looked clear, and with a sigh of relief he walked in. The blood originated at the dresser and after making sure that the door was securely locked behind him, he walked towards it. Its surface was the only thing that wasn't dusty in here and there was a bloodied knife resting on the polished top. A tiny pool of blood had gathered beneath the blade. Normally he wouldn't dare touch a weapon obviously used to harm another. He wasn't an idiot. But this wasn't CSI and the things outside prompted a very real need for weapons. Collecting it, he tucked the blade into the waist of his pants. For now, he was more comfortable with the chair leg turned bat, but he'd have the knife if needed. Nothing else in the room held anything of interest and it was time he made his way to the basement. He left quickly, having spotted an elevator sign a little further down the hall, planning to use it for a quick decent.

It was one of those old cage things and of course it wasn't running but the metal doors were half open and when he peaked down the shaft he realized that he was probably on the fourth or the fifth floor. He wouldn't have any troubles climbing down the shaft and the darkness at the bottom was no problem either since he could see well in the dark. It had advantages to be a werewolf.

He quickly checked his surroundings but right now everything was clear and even though he could hear some of those corpses approaching, they wouldn't be here for a little while. At least they weren't very fast. He shortly studied the makeshift weapon in his hand. He would need both of his hands to climb down but he also didn't want to drop it into the shaft. It was his only weapon and he refused to let go of it. He also couldn't put it into the waistband of his pants because it would handicap him when climbing.

After some short consideration he took his shirt off and secured the weapon with a tight knot of the fabric and then slipped through one of the armholes with his left arm. This way he had both of his hands free but wouldn't let the weapon out of reach. It wasn't perfect but it would have to do. The air was still clear and Derek slipped through the opening in the gate and started his climb downwards.

The walls were old and tricky because crumbling in some place but there were enough cracks for him to find his footing and it only took him a few moments until he had reached the basement level. He probably could have jumped anyway. He looked up again, knowing that he wouldn't have any trouble to get up again the same way he had come down. He just hoped that none of those things would fall into the shaft. There was another metal door, blocking his entrance into the basement but Derek managed to force it open before he listened into the darkness.

He was greeted by an eerie silence within the basement and in a way, Derek liked it even less than those corpses. With them, he at least knew what he was up against but this here? He knew that he was supposed to be in the basement and that he was supposed to find the woman here. If something called trap, it was this. He hesitated, the idea of leaving the building instead and trying to make a run for it outside growing stronger again but then he only took a deep breath - immediately regretting it - before he forced the metal doors open, wide enough for him to slip through.

It was dark in the basement and he waited a few moments until his eyes had adjusted. He shortly considered blocking the elevator shaft with something but then he also would block his own escape route and so he decided to leave it open. Quickly he untangled his weapon and put his shirt back on, immediately feeling better with the weight of the wood in his hand. Then he was quiet, taking in the impressions he got from the cellar. It smelled slightly better than the rest of the building, maybe because there were no corpses here.

Yet.

The scent of dust and mold was stronger though and there was no other scent to detect. No blood. No female. But the basement was probably large and maybe she was hiding in another part of it. For a moment he only leaned against the wall, realizing that he had been running mainly on instinct since he had left that room. Pictures of those horrible things that had attacked him suddenly flashing up in front of him but he knew that he couldn't allow this to have an impact on him right now. This was about survival, nothing else was important and he forcefully pushed everything else aside. His hand gripped the leg of the chair tighter and he started exploring these unfamiliar surroundings as quietly as he could.

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