Teen Hybrid

The man in the leather jacket vanished into the trees like smoke, leaving behind a silence thick with unease. Vale's hands still trembled, not from fear but the raw adrenaline that lingered in his veins like a live wire. The translucent gray screen flickered at the edge of his vision, stubborn and unyielding:

- - - - - - - - - - - - -

Valentine Aedan Feilan

Alias: 'Vale'

Status: Agitated, Injured (Minor)

Nature: Adaptive

Strength: 15

Mind: 3.2

Willpower: 4.0

Magical Affinity: 3.1

Bloodline: ??/??

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Adaptive. The word had followed Vale like a shadow his whole life. After the fire, social workers praised how he'd "adapted" to foster care. Teachers marveled at how he "adjusted" to new schools. But this—the screen, the creature, the unnatural strength—wasn't adaptation. It was upheaval.

Stiles broke the silence first, pacing in tight circles like a caged animal. "Okay, let's recap: We've got a demon rabbit, a red-eyed nightmare dog, and a guy who dresses like he's auditioning for *Vampire Diaries*. Anyone else feel like we're stuck in a bad B-movie?"

Scott crouched beside the dead rabbit, his fingers hovering over its matted fur. "What did he mean, 'diffrent'? Diffrent how?"

Vale flexed his hands, the memory of the creature's neck under his grip still vivid. "Nothing good. Stay out of the woods. Both of you." He turned to leave, but Stiles blocked his path.

"Whoa, whoa—you're just gonna bail? You owe us answers, Superman!"

"I don't owe you anything," Vale snapped, sharper than he intended. Scott flinched, and Vale softened his tone. "Whatever that thing was, it's after *me*. The more you stay away, the safer you'll be."

He walked off, Stiles' indignant squawks fading behind him. The screen's Strength: 15 pulsed mockingly.

---

It was already evening, the Camaro's engine lay disassembled on the workbench, a puzzle of greased metal and frayed wires. Vale ran a cloth over the carburetor, the rhythmic motion grounding him. This, at least, made sense. Engines didn't lie. They didn't flicker with cryptic screens or vanish into shadows.

He gripped a steel wrench, its weight familiar in his palm. Strength: 15. On impulse, he bent it. The metal groaned, folding like tinfoil.

"Huh."

No strain. No flicker on the screen, just a bent wrench.

Marie's voice cut through the garage. "Vale! Dinner's getting cold!"

He tossed the wrench aside. "Coming!"

At the door, he paused. The woods loomed beyond the fence, dark and watchful.

---

Stiles' laptop glowed like a beacon in the dark, police scanner chatter spilling from its speakers.

(Police over scanner): *"All units, converge on the north ridge. Possible animal attack."*

"Animal attack. Right," Stiles muttered, shoving a backpack full of flashlights, a first-aid kit, and half a bag of Cheetos at Scott. "We're going back."

Scott paled. "Are you insane? After what happened—"

"That's why we're going! To prove we're not hallucinating! And if we find another… thing…"

"Then what? We ask it to pose for a selfie?"

Stiles grinned, all teeth. "Then we run like hell."

Moonlight bled through the trees, painting the forest in jagged silver. Scott's sneakers crunched over dead leaves, the sound too loud in the suffocating quiet. Stiles' flashlight beam danced ahead, a frail shield against the dark.

"There." Stiles pointed to a strip of police tape snagged on a thornbush. "That's where they found the… uh… parts."

Scott's throat tightened. "This is a bad idea."

"Yeah, well, bad ideas built Rome."

A twig snapped.

They froze.

"Did you hear that?" Scott whispered.

Stiles' flashlight trembled. "Hear what?"

Lights suddenly lit up over on the road a distance away, the cops showing up for a thorough search of the area.

"Run!"

They bolted, branches clawing at their clothes. Stiles veered left, Scott right—a split-second decision that unraveled everything.

Stiles skidded into a clearing, lungs burning, and collided with a wall of khaki.

"Stiles?" Sheriff Stilinski's flashlight blinded him. "What the hell are you doing out here?"

"Dad! I, uh… lost my keys! Birdwatching!"

"Birdwatching. At midnight."

"Nocturnal birds! They're a thing!"

The sheriff pinched the bridge of his nose. "Get in the cruiser. *Now.*"

Stiles glanced desperately into the trees where Scott had vanished. "But—"

"Now, Stiles."

---

Scott stumbled into a gully, the flashlight long lost. His breath came in ragged gasps, each one echoing too loud in the silence. Moonlight glinted off something pale in the dirt—a human hand, fingers curled like claws.

"Oh god—"

A growl.

He turned.

Glowing red eyes hovered in the dark, low to the ground. The creature emerged—wolf-like but *wrong*, its fur patchy, its muzzle twisted into a snarl.

"Stiles!" Scott's voice cracked.

The creature lunged.

Teeth sank into his side.

Pain erupted, white-hot and consuming. He screamed, the sound swallowed by the forest.

Blackness.

Vale stood at his bedroom window, the woods a dark wall on the horizon. The screen flickered:

**Status: Restless, Inquisitive**

He'd always adapted. After the fire, he'd learned to cook, to fix engines, to patch holes in drywall. But this—this defied logic.

A shriek tore through the night, distant and raw. Vale's head snapped up. *Scott?*

He grabbed a flashlight and ran.

Scott woke to damp earth and the metallic tang of blood. His side throbbed, a massive red bite with blood dripping out from the large punctures covering his side.

"What the…?"

A twig snapped. He spun, heart racing.

"Scott!" Vale crashed through the brush, sprinting full-tilt towards him

"It attacked me!" Scott shouted out as soon as he saw Vale, "It got me real bad too."

"Are you bleeding badly? You need medical attention! Did it leave! Is it still here?"

"I.. I think it left..maybe help me before we get to the questions though?"

Vale quickly went over to Scott, slipping his arm under his shoulders and helping him up.

"Just wait a minute well be at the hospital in no time!" Vale said starting to walk in the direction of the road.

"No, no hospital.." Scott spoke through ragged breaths "My Mom works there, I don't want to risk it following us!"

"Ah so you want to die to rabies or something then?" Vale asked staring at Scott in disbelief for a moment.

"Ju-ju-just listen to me! Please, I know where we can go."

"Fine. But for the record this very dumb idea was all yours, Scott."