They say never judge a book by it's cover, never judge a person by the way they look. That's exactly what they were doing, judging innocent people based on their label. Werewolf. To society they were mongrels that should only be chained up and forced to obey, but they were wrong. I had a simple view on how society viewed these wolves, but it only became more real when I took one in myself.
Eagerly I took a gulp out of the mug I held in my hand, managing to scorch every part of my mouth in the process. I forced myself to ignore the sharp pain in my mouth as I plopped down into my computer chair. I carefully sat my mug a few feet away from my computer to attempt to avoid any accidents. Staring at a computer screen at six o'clock in the morning apparently causes my reflexes and clumsiness to get worse. If that was even possible.
Normally I would never be up this early. I was not happy and I definitely expected a raise for this. My father wanted me to review this case once more. I'm not completely sure why he choose me when he had a ton of other deputy's that could of done it. Especially considering I was the one that cracked this case in the first place.
I would love to say that my amazing skills lead me to believe that there was abuse going on, but I would be lying. Actually, I stumbled upon the evidence by accident. If I wasn't a deputy I would've overlooked it, but I had decided to start investigating.
Now that werewolves were known of around the world, they were deemed unworthy and dangerous. Some genius had the grand idea of enslaving them, which has now developed into a disastrous society filled with snobby humans and aggressive werewolves. Typically the threat of werewolves attacking humans would cause more work for me, but they have came up with objects to subdue the wolves. I don't typical deal with cases from the werewolf department so I wasn't very educated with how the whole slavery thing worked, thankfully. I honestly never wanted to learn.
Unfortunately I had dug myself into this hole. I had been investigating a case in which a very heavy firearm was stolen from our armory. Of course I went on a whim and assumed that the most popular family of slave owners, the Argent's, had some due in this. Well, I didn't find the fire arm, but what I did find was ten time worse. Actually a hundred times worse. I hadn't actually saw the werewolves, but I did see what was left of some of them and it was not pretty. They had a room full of weapons and wolfsbane, that was literally coated in blood.
So that's what lead me into this investigation. Well it really wasn't an investigation any more. The Argent's had already been proven guilty for abuse. Now if they would of abused a human they could of gotten some serious jail time, but it was werewolves that were abused. That meant that instead of getting fully punished, they just got their slaves taken away. Which really did nothing to solve the problem.
My father agreed with me, but he had no way to solve or to even begin any kind of reform. So we kind of sat back and entered in to fix any problems that were within our grasp.
Many of the slave owners hated us. Mostly because any advocate that stood up for werewolves was basically publicly shamed by almost every newspaper out there. I was no different. Although, me being an officer forced them to calm most of their insults, but it didn't stop the completely blatant accusations. Basically the Argent's knew who exactly found out about their abusive tactics, so they didn't like me very much.
I would like to say that bothered me, but honestly I could care less. I guess in this situation it was beneficial to be weak and small and...human.
Normally it was odd to be friends with other owner's werewolves. Hell, it was weird to be friends with your own wolves. I still had a best friend that was a werewolf, Scott Mccall. Technically he wasn't born a werewolf, he was bit, so I never really understood why he was still a slave. He didn't really seem to mind though. Although, he was owned by an Argent, he was owned by the less psycho side. Allison Argent, a more level headed owner, owned him. They 'attempted' to hide their beautiful love story, but it was practically hopeless. According to Scott, he was in a sappy romantic movie that didn't involve absurd society classes. To each their own I guess.
So while Scott and Allison were frolicking in roses, I was reviewing this gruesome case that I would rather forget about.
When the phone rang, pulling me out of my thoughts, I jumped a little more than I probably should in order to be called manly. I sighed, hoping my father wasn't about to put me on another case. I picked up the phone and put it up to my ear.
"Hello."
"Stiles?"
I paused slightly. "Scott?" I questioned. Slaves weren't allowed on the phones, even in the best situations. Not only that, but why was anyone calling me this early in the morning.
"Listen, I don't have a lot of time so this has to be quick. I need a really big favor from you," he rambled out quickly and paused for a slight beat before continuing. "You know that case you cracked about the Argent's...about the abuse."
I sighed. "Scott I'd rather forget about that case," I mumbled, my fingers drumming against the table. Apparently my growing age did nothing for my small attention span.
"I know. I know, but one of the werewolves that were taken away from the Argent's is in trouble and...and I need you to buy him," he stated, this time he paused.
I needed this pause. I needed a second to make sure I had actually heard him correctly. I needed a second to figure out how exactly to answer that. I sighed. "Scott you know how I feel about that."
"I know...and I wouldn't come to you if it wasn't absolutely necessary."
I inhaled a deep breath, weighing my options. "Wait why do you need me? The confiscated werewolves should of went off to the auction house."
"They did...and all of them were sold except one. That's why I need your help. This werewolf has not been sold due to aggression."
"Aggression? Are you trying to kill me?" My eyes trailed over the case in front of me. No wonder the werewolf had aggression problems. I didn't blame him, but that didn't mean I was just going to open my house to a hostile werewolf.
"That's the thing though. He acts aggressive. All fangs and claws, but he hasn't harmed anyone. He only really becomes aggressive during the auctions."
I nodded slowly. "Which means?"
"Which means that he is doing this on purpose. He doesn't want to be sold," Scott mumbled, his voice slightly rough.
"Alright so what does him not wanting to be sold have to do with me?" I asked slowly and reached for my coffee mug. I carefully grabbed it and held it close to my chest.
"Because he hasn't been sold they're going to kill him tomorrow. They're basically putting him down if he doesn't get bought by tomorrow evening. So I need you to buy him...please."
I sighed. This whole thing made me sick. They aren't dogs, but yet they were being treated like them. "Alright," I mumbled, running a hand through my hair. "I'll try."
He let out a breath. "Thank you so much Stiles. I owe you...okay his number is 24 and his last name is Hale...that's pretty much all of the information we know," he started slowly, before his voice turned into a whisper. "Sorry I've got to go. Bye Stiles," he whispered before the call ended.
I sighed and ran a hand through my hair. I threw my phone on my desk and looked down at the paper beside me. Why did I agree to this? This was the most idiotic idea ever, and yet I still agreed. Maybe it was because I didn't want to deal with Scott's puppy dog eyes and I knew he wouldn't forgive me if I didn't do this. Who cares if this threatened both my job and my life, Scott certainly didn't. Still, I felt as if this was going to go terribly wrong. My father didn't agree with owning slaves, so how was I supposed to explain this to him? I couldn't hide it because sooner or later he would notice if a man was magically in my house cleaning everything. That is, if I even make him do anything. I had gotten by pretty well by myself. I didn't need a slave to help.
But this wasn't for me. This was for a werewolf that was going to lose his life and I wasn't going to let that happen. I stood up and sat my mug down. I had a lot to do. I had to completely prepare my house for a possibly aggressive werewolf.
After actually looking around I realized that my house was pretty messy. So unfortunately I spent all day cleaning. I managed to clean out the guest room which was across the hall from mine. The bathroom wasn't too difficult to clean, but my study was a different story. I don't think there was any saving that space. By the end of the day the house looked suitable for guests.
After much thought, I decided it was smart to take the next few days off. After calling my dad and faking a sore throat and stuffy nose I was able to get Friday and the rest of the weekend off. I had planned to go and buy...retrieve the werewolf the next morning.
That night I couldn't sleep. I kept tossing and turning, my mind all over the place. I couldn't calm down enough to get sleep. My options were battling in my head. So I ended up getting up early and getting onto the computer.
I hesitated for a brief moment before I typed Hale into the search engine. There was an article that didn't involve their abuse. Apparently before the Hale's were bought by the Argent they were at another home. These people stated that the Hale's were a very respectful family of slaves that worked hard without complaint. After a few years of loyal work the owners mysteriously went bankrupt and they were forced to sell the entire Hale family to the Argent's.
I took in any information I could get to help me get a feel for what this werewolf is like.
Once it was a decent hour I put on some casual clothes and headed out. I really didn't know what I would need so I brought anything that had my identification on it. I drove my trademark Jeep to the auction center. Well, that's at least what they called it. It looked more like a pound.
When I walked in I was meet with judgmental stares from the man sitting behind a wooden desk. "Stumble into the wrong place?"
I inhaled a deep breath before I walked up to the table. "No...I'm looking to buy a specific werewolf."
He eyed me for a brief second before he sat up straighter. "Alright, any particular type?"
I ran a hand through my hair. Scott gave me no description at all. "Um...I'm looking for a Hale."
He seemed to know what I was talking about, because his eyes narrowed further. "Are you sure? I mean he's a little-"
"Yes I'm positive," I cut him off and nodded my head.
"May I ask why you are in need of such a slave?" he asked, crossing his arms across his chest.
I sighed, he was making this so much more difficult. "May I ask why you need this information? I don't recall being signed up for 20 questions" I stated sarcastically.
His eyes traveled the length of my body before he locked eyes with me again. "Okay," he stated simply before he stood up from the chair he was in. "Now we didn't receive anything else for number 24 other than a last name, but we do know that he is an alpha. So he has two sets of wolfsbane laced collars. One around his waist and one around his throat. The one around his neck constantly keeps track of his pulse and if it raises too high it sends an electric shock through his body. There is a hand held bracelet that, if triggered will send an immediate shock through said werewolf. This bracelet is automatically sent to the buyer and received within a day."
I had to fight to keep my body still and my face from scrunching up in disgust. Not only did Scott forget to mention I was obtaining an alpha, but these people practically fried the werewolves whenever they phased. I didn't know a lot about werewolves, but I did know that phasing was natural. They were punishing werewolves for something they were supposed to do.
"Of course different werewolves have different pulses so you can always get that adjusted," he mumbled and walked through a door on his right. He motioned me to follow.
I almost hesitated. Almost, but I knew I had to force myself to do this. I knew that I had to save this werewolf from being slaughtered. So I followed him into the door. I was right about the whole pound thing.
There was a concrete walkway that continued in a straight path. On each side of the walkway there was a line of fencing that was separated into sections by concrete walls. Between these walls were people...well werewolves. As I walked I peered into each cage.
All of them were dirty, covered in ripped clothes that were barely suitable to be called clothes. Some of them were curled up in the corner, trembling slightly, others were standing at the door of the cage, snarling at me as I walked by.
I slowed down, my eyes catching a female werewolf. She had two collars. One around her neck and one around her waist that I could just barely make out through the rips in her clothes. She was gripping the fence, her claws almost visible, as a deep snarl rolled from her chest. She was staring me dead in the eyes.
"Mountain ash...we use mountain ash to keep them contained."
I finally broke eye contact with the female and quickened my pace, catching up with the man just before he turned towards me.
"Alright here he is."
I looked into the cage.
The werewolf inside was huge. Enough to literally crush me huge. He wasn't cowering and he wasn't snarling. He was sitting against the wall, one of his legs lifted with his arm casually hanging over it. He looked calm, like he wasn't stuck in a cage. His eyes were fixed on a point on the wall. He was wearing a shirt that was covered in blood, but he didn't seem to care. His hair was jet black and messy. The stubble on his jawline and chin shown that he hadn't shaved in awhile.
"Hale," the man mumbled, his hand tapping against the fencing.
The werewolf looked up, his bright green eyes looking at the man before his eyes locked on me. He looked surprised. Surprised and confused, before his eyes narrowed. His jaw clenched and he dropped his leg just before he stood to his feet. His eyes lit up, turning from green to red in a heartbeat.
As the man unlocked the fencing and dusted away a thin line of black dust I hadn't even known was there, the werewolf's eyes stayed locked on me. The only time his eyes dropped to the ground was when the man gripped onto the top of his neck collar. The werewolf flinched and dropped his gaze as he was pushed forward. As he passed me he once again looked up, his eyes glowing as he made eye contact with me.
Everything in my body told me to flinch away, to cower from this powerful alpha. Surprisingly I looked him in the eye and managed to not physically shudder.
I followed as the man roughly forced the werewolf forward, past the walls of enslaved werewolves and out the front door.
"The Jeep?" the man asked as he glanced at me over his shoulder.
I nodded slowly and followed the man out to my car. I stepped in front of him and quickly unlocked it and opened the passenger door.
The man gripped onto the collar and shoved the werewolf inside with much more force than necessary.
I forced my mind to overlook it as I stepped around the car and climbed into the driver's side. I heard the man mutter a good luck before the door was slammed roughly.
I started the car, trying to focus on not letting my legs tremble. Werewolves could hear heartbeats though, right? So even if I stopped shaking he could still hear the intense beating of my heart. I inhaled a deep breath and glanced over at the werewolf.
He was staring out the window, completely rigid. Far different than he was in the cage. His hand was curled up in a fist, his body tense and clenched.
I cleared my throat, trying to pull some of my voice back. "...So I'm Stiles...Stiles Stilinski."
He didn't look over at me, but he tensed even more.
I nodded, trying to rid myself of the nervous feeling that rushed over me. The car ride didn't get any less awkwarder. I could almost hear the erratic beating of my heart, so I knew the werewolf could. I didn't know what to say. I didn't want it to be awkward, but I didn't want my throat ripped out either.
When we made it to the house I gladly got out of the car and walked up to the front door without a word. I could feel the werewolf quietly walking behind me. As I unlocked the door I glanced over my shoulder.
The werewolves eyes were directed at the floor, but he wore a rough scowl. His hands were curled in thick fists.
I released a breath I didn't know I was holding and unlocked the door. I opened it and walked in. As soon as the werewolf made it through I quickly shut the door. I walked up next to him. "Alrighty, so this is where I live. Pretty much everything is open for access, except my room and study. Your room is upstairs on the right and your bathroom is next to that. Feel free to change anything to fit your needs. Um, I really don't..have anything for you to do. I mean if you want gourmet meals then that might be a problem. I've never been a very good cook, but I'm not forcing you to," I rambled and looked over at him.
A look of confusion filled in his green eyes as he watched me. He immediately caught himself and forced his eyes back to the ground, his jaw clenching.
"K. Here I'll show you your room," I mumbled and turned. I quickly stepped up the stairs, the werewolf's footsteps ringing behind me.
When me made it to the room I pushed the door open for him and stood in the doorway.
The werewolf stepped in, his eyes scanning the room. His muscles clenched through the tattered shirt reminding me of something.
"Oh right. If you need anything particular there's a notepad on the desk that you can write a list on. I'm going shopping tomorrow so you can just write down anything you need.." I mumbled and watched the werewolf direct his eyes around the room. "Alright cool. I'll let you get situated." I started to turn and leave.
"I enjoy cooking," The werewolf mumbled,his voice was rough. It fit him. A deep voice that rolled from his lips like poison. It seemed as if he almost flinched, his voice low and deep and careful. Careful because he probably thought that telling a human that he enjoyed something was wrong.
I froze. Not because it scared me, not because it enraged me. It enlightened me. It touched a spot in my mind that almost made me smile. I wanted to hear more, I wanted him to talk to me. To be able to trust me enough that he would look me in the eyes and talk.
I nodded. "Good...there's only so many ways to make ramen," I stated lightly and left him on his own. I was trying to go for lighthearted. Trying to keep the shakiness and unsure feeling out of my voice. I wanted him to know that talking was definitely encouraged.
I went to my office and carefully shut the door. Something was picking at the back of my mind, something that caused me to pull out the Argent file. I opened the vanilla card and looked at the paper before me. It was a background check on the Argent's. Something wasn't right with this. There was something more than abuse going on, but I couldn't exactly put my finger on it. There was something that...his name? I still did not know his name. Which slightly bothered me, but not as much as the intense churning I had in my stomach.
After a few hours of flipping through the same file time and time again I decided that I should sleep. As I passed the kitchen I glanced at the clock. It was twelve at night, which meant that I had mindlessly been working for half the day. I was supposed to be off, I should really take advantage if that.
I was going to go straight to my room, but the werewolf's door was open and the light was still on. I stopped and peeked my head inside.
The werewolf was sitting on the bed, his back rigid. His eyes were narrowed as he glared down at his own hands. His hands were cupped together in his lap, but there was a small tremor that rolled through his fingertips.
"Hey, I'm heading to bed...so um...goodnight," I stuttered before I quickly disappeared down the hall. I ran a hand through my hair, trying to calm my racing heart. I made it to my room without completely freaking out and shut the door. I crawled into bed and pulled the covers up over my face. I inhaled a deep breath, I had to calm down. I shut my eyes and tried to clear my mind, but I couldn't. Images from that werewolf facility kept popping into my mind. I ended up falling into an uncomfortable sleep that was filled with small nightmares. Before one would get to intense, I would snap awake and immediately fall back asleep, straight into another one.