Teen Wolf Fic: A Veiled Dispatch
Title: A Veiled Dispatch
Author: kitmerlot1213
Rating: PG 13
Word Count: 995
Disclaimer: This story is for fun and no profit. No harm was intended to small children or adults, real or fictional :)
Summary: Stiles is reminded of his mom's love of Polish folklore. It doesn't end well.
A/N: My contribution to the 2022 Spook Me Ficathon Enjoy!
Beacon Hills had become a haven for the supernatural with terrifyingly strange occurrences happening nearly everyday.
Stiles and his dad had been watching the first game of the World Series--despite the Mets not winning the National League Pennant, they were still going to cheer on the Phillies - and it took the advertisement for the holiday special "It's the Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown" for Stiles to remember that it was getting close to Halloween, and they needed to be vigilant.
So when Stiles began receiving oddly prophetic texts from an unknown number, he thought it was worrying and intensely weird, and that made him pay even closer attention then he normally would.
Stiles noticed how each message was scarily accurate down to the description of the monster they were fighting that week and the quickest way to defeat it and he would always receive the messages a couple of hours before the pack were meant to meet up and discuss battle plans.
Gnomes hide in dark corners and are adverse to mushroom powder and blade mace.
Cover the graves with taro root and bee pollen--poisonous to ghouls
Brownies live in shrubs and hate rutabaga and witch hazel
When Stiles received the first message, he tried convincing himself it was spam, but when Boyd’s arm was broken from the gnomes attack, Stiles understood that he couldn’t keep the situation to himself any longer.
When he’d shown the pack the messages, Scott had declared it was a coincidence which caused the rest of the pack to split their opinions: Liam, Isaac and Allison had sided with Scott, while Kira, Jackson and Malia were undecided which left Stiles, Lydia and Derek open to the possibility of psychic intervention.
“There’s nothing wrong with heeding warnings, even if they’re from an unknown number,” Lydia stated. She thought the wording seemed familiar but decided to keep her theory to herself. “We’ll take any and all info with a grain of salt.”
For Stiles any feeling of skepticism went out the window when both Isaac and Allison were injured when Scott ignored the message about the pixies and their fear of dandelions and hemlock.
By the time the creatures were put down, Isaac ended up with a flattened nose and Allison had a fractured wrist and both Derek and Stiles realized they had to face facts.
Derek silently watched as Stiles hugged a remorseful and guilt-stricken Scott before he left to drive Allison to the emergency room. The rest of their friends listened quietly when Derek started to speak. “We can’t continue to disregard these messages because Stiles is receiving them for a reason.”
Derek waited until they all finished nodding. “From now on, the texts will be part of our strategies.”
The air was filled with pained cries, the chilly air somehow becoming even colder. The wolves crept closer towards one of the last lines of human resistance, their guttural growls nearly drowning out Noah Stilinski’s voice: “Hold your ground deputies! Do not let any wolves pass!”
To Stiles’ relief, the pack parents had zero difficulty in accepting the validity of helpful futuristic text messages.
“This is Beacon Hills, kiddo, craziness abounds,” Noah blithely replied while Melissa and Chris Argent nodded in agreement. “Anything can happen here.”
His dad paused to look thoughtfully at him. “You see it too right? That the writing style of the texts is very similar to your mom’s?”
But before Stiles could reply, Melissa embraced the boy she saw as a second son which led Stiles to pull his dad into the fierce hug, with Chris getting dragged in by Melissa.
The hug was ridiculously dramatic, but the worried feeling in the pit of Stiles’ stomach lessened slightly.
The wolves, covered in coarse midnight black fur, were grotesquely huge. They stood at six feet, weighing in at two hundred fifty pound, with a fifteen foot wingspan; their claws and teeth were razor sharp and seemed to gleam in the crisp, autumnal air.
Stiles had his own suspicions about the identity of the mysterious text sender and as he looked at the top row of his bookshelf, he instinctively knew his dad was right.
Sitting right between his babcia’s collection of Polish fairytales and folklore sat his mom’s beloved Baba Jaga nesting doll. His mom explained that Baba Jaga was a Polish witch who chased children around so she could eat them.
That would have frightened most kids but Claudia had laughed at Baba Jaga’s chicken legs and overly hideous scowls and Stiles stopped being scared and giggled right along with her.
He never doubted again where he got his dark humor from.
Stiles picked up his phone and pulled up the number for the unknown contact. Mom?
And just as quickly, the answering message dinged: On Oct. 31st at 6:13pm, a portal will open in the preserve. Winged wolves will fly out and can only be stopped with bullets filled with wolfs bane, belladonna and holly
Stiles stared at the texts with mounting horror, the description of the flying beasts getting worse and worse. Derek sat next to Stiles, reading over his shoulder, both so engrossed in figuring out how to save their town and defeat the beasts that they nearly missed one of the last texts: Be careful Son.
The monsters in the front of the pack were crouched down, ready to spring into flight and attack the line of deputies guarding the exit of the Preserve.
Derek and Scott, their expressions grimly determined, stood shoulder to shoulder with the rest of their pack, all of them silently resolved to protect their human loved ones with their lives.
But knowing how stubbornly brave all of their humans were, especially Stiles who’d be right out in front with the rest of their friends, facing the abominations down, they’d all go down swinging together.
The pack pretended not to notice Stiles’ hand shaking when he showed them the last message:
Do NOT let the wolves escape…
Author: kitmerlot1213
Rating: PG 13
Word Count: 995
Disclaimer: This story is for fun and no profit. No harm was intended to small children or adults, real or fictional :)
Summary: Stiles is reminded of his mom's love of Polish folklore. It doesn't end well.
A/N: My contribution to the 2022 Spook Me Ficathon Enjoy!
Beacon Hills had become a haven for the supernatural with terrifyingly strange occurrences happening nearly everyday.
Stiles and his dad had been watching the first game of the World Series--despite the Mets not winning the National League Pennant, they were still going to cheer on the Phillies - and it took the advertisement for the holiday special "It's the Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown" for Stiles to remember that it was getting close to Halloween, and they needed to be vigilant.
So when Stiles began receiving oddly prophetic texts from an unknown number, he thought it was worrying and intensely weird, and that made him pay even closer attention then he normally would.
Stiles noticed how each message was scarily accurate down to the description of the monster they were fighting that week and the quickest way to defeat it and he would always receive the messages a couple of hours before the pack were meant to meet up and discuss battle plans.
Gnomes hide in dark corners and are adverse to mushroom powder and blade mace.
Cover the graves with taro root and bee pollen--poisonous to ghouls
Brownies live in shrubs and hate rutabaga and witch hazel
When Stiles received the first message, he tried convincing himself it was spam, but when Boyd’s arm was broken from the gnomes attack, Stiles understood that he couldn’t keep the situation to himself any longer.
When he’d shown the pack the messages, Scott had declared it was a coincidence which caused the rest of the pack to split their opinions: Liam, Isaac and Allison had sided with Scott, while Kira, Jackson and Malia were undecided which left Stiles, Lydia and Derek open to the possibility of psychic intervention.
“There’s nothing wrong with heeding warnings, even if they’re from an unknown number,” Lydia stated. She thought the wording seemed familiar but decided to keep her theory to herself. “We’ll take any and all info with a grain of salt.”
For Stiles any feeling of skepticism went out the window when both Isaac and Allison were injured when Scott ignored the message about the pixies and their fear of dandelions and hemlock.
By the time the creatures were put down, Isaac ended up with a flattened nose and Allison had a fractured wrist and both Derek and Stiles realized they had to face facts.
Derek silently watched as Stiles hugged a remorseful and guilt-stricken Scott before he left to drive Allison to the emergency room. The rest of their friends listened quietly when Derek started to speak. “We can’t continue to disregard these messages because Stiles is receiving them for a reason.”
Derek waited until they all finished nodding. “From now on, the texts will be part of our strategies.”
The air was filled with pained cries, the chilly air somehow becoming even colder. The wolves crept closer towards one of the last lines of human resistance, their guttural growls nearly drowning out Noah Stilinski’s voice: “Hold your ground deputies! Do not let any wolves pass!”
To Stiles’ relief, the pack parents had zero difficulty in accepting the validity of helpful futuristic text messages.
“This is Beacon Hills, kiddo, craziness abounds,” Noah blithely replied while Melissa and Chris Argent nodded in agreement. “Anything can happen here.”
His dad paused to look thoughtfully at him. “You see it too right? That the writing style of the texts is very similar to your mom’s?”
But before Stiles could reply, Melissa embraced the boy she saw as a second son which led Stiles to pull his dad into the fierce hug, with Chris getting dragged in by Melissa.
The hug was ridiculously dramatic, but the worried feeling in the pit of Stiles’ stomach lessened slightly.
The wolves, covered in coarse midnight black fur, were grotesquely huge. They stood at six feet, weighing in at two hundred fifty pound, with a fifteen foot wingspan; their claws and teeth were razor sharp and seemed to gleam in the crisp, autumnal air.
Stiles had his own suspicions about the identity of the mysterious text sender and as he looked at the top row of his bookshelf, he instinctively knew his dad was right.
Sitting right between his babcia’s collection of Polish fairytales and folklore sat his mom’s beloved Baba Jaga nesting doll. His mom explained that Baba Jaga was a Polish witch who chased children around so she could eat them.
That would have frightened most kids but Claudia had laughed at Baba Jaga’s chicken legs and overly hideous scowls and Stiles stopped being scared and giggled right along with her.
He never doubted again where he got his dark humor from.
Stiles picked up his phone and pulled up the number for the unknown contact. Mom?
And just as quickly, the answering message dinged: On Oct. 31st at 6:13pm, a portal will open in the preserve. Winged wolves will fly out and can only be stopped with bullets filled with wolfs bane, belladonna and holly
Stiles stared at the texts with mounting horror, the description of the flying beasts getting worse and worse. Derek sat next to Stiles, reading over his shoulder, both so engrossed in figuring out how to save their town and defeat the beasts that they nearly missed one of the last texts: Be careful Son.
The monsters in the front of the pack were crouched down, ready to spring into flight and attack the line of deputies guarding the exit of the Preserve.
Derek and Scott, their expressions grimly determined, stood shoulder to shoulder with the rest of their pack, all of them silently resolved to protect their human loved ones with their lives.
But knowing how stubbornly brave all of their humans were, especially Stiles who’d be right out in front with the rest of their friends, facing the abominations down, they’d all go down swinging together.
The pack pretended not to notice Stiles’ hand shaking when he showed them the last message:
Do NOT let the wolves escape…