CHPT 68: Spark and Ash

Scott snarled as he crashed into Deucalion.

The two rolled, snapping and clawing at eachother until Scott found himself bottom mount, beneath the Alpha who reached down with his massive hands and lifted him by the throat.

Scott kicked and clawed at him until Deucalion decided to send a flurry of hammering blows to his already torn up stomach.

He then slammed Scott into a wall so hard splintering cracks stretched out from where he stood.

He could feel his blood dripping down his furbound legs.

The power from before was fading. He knew that without even seeing the purple glow in his Alpha irises fade.

"Submit, Scott. You've proven yourself…." Deucalion huffed as he spit out a tooth. "You aren't beyond me. And if it's not you, it's none of you. Your Coyote and Lion will fall in line. They aren't as special as you. Or me. I…. Am the apex predato—"

Deucalion's words fell short as flashing lights lit up the darkness inside the bank.

An immediate scalding heat gave Deucalion's hairless skin a clear sheen of sweat.

Scott shifted back to his human form. Leaving a torn and broken teen with a wolfish grin as he faded. All he could manage was a reply to the Alpha's previously egotistical rantings.

"If it's not you, it's none of them."

Scott let his hands fall from the claws around his throat, "No…. Its all of us. But right now, It's him."

Deucalion dropped Scott as he turned to face his newest threat.

Marco was on fire. Literally.

The Alpha dominance in Deucalion's blood that once held him evaporated in an instant. The sparks and steam that once accentuated his vengeful markings had evolved into electrical sparking flames. Flames that flared in red, blue, and yellow brilliance like some new rendition of the northern lights.

The fires spread up his arm and across his chest.

"I'm listening…." Marco groaned as he stretched.

"What is this. This isn't…. You aren't…."

The flames crawled up his throat and consumed half of his maw.

He growled and stumbled.

Unbalanced.

Inexperienced.

A teenager wielding the power of an entire race couldn't be mastered so easily.

Deucalion seemed to understand and smiled. Relieved.

"Even now. Your insanity is your weakness, Marc—"

Out of seemingly nowhere the banks alarm system screamed its way back into existence in a mind-numbing rhythmic pulse.

For Marco— whose ears were already consumed by the words of a realm beyond the physical, the sound meant nothing.

But to a blind WereWolf— who practically saw the world through his ears, in that exact moment, he became incapacitated.

"AHHHHH!!!" Deucalion roared and stumbled, clawing at his ears and head. His muscles bubbled and expanded beneath his skin as if his pain did the opposite of what it did to other shifters.

Stiles burst in through the door. His quadrupedal Coyote form no more than a dark brown blur of fang and reflective eyes.

He danced around the mad monster in his stunned state and dove in at the first opportunity, jaws clamped around the back of Deucalion's knee until the tendon ripped free. Stiles swallowed down the foul meat with a snarl and dove in on the other. Working alone to take down the giant.

"Get BACK!" Deucalion swung his leg and launched Stiles into a wall.

He hit the ground with a yelp and lay still.

"Where are you— you pesky bastard! Did y-you DO THIS!? I should've taken you first, Stiles! Deaton said you were…AHHHH— intelligent!" Deucalion raged.

Marco learned a semblance of control.

He took a step. The heat was blinding. Another.

He made his way. His clothing and armor melted off, falling like ash— like sand.

Deucalion was none the wiser until Marco stood right in front of him.

"Got you! RAGHH!!" He swung at Marco, hitting the flames of his right side.

As if Marco wasn't physically real, Deucalion's arm continued its path until he was stumbling to the side. His hand now an ashen stump.

"…..aaaa—"

Marco grabbed Deucalion's face with his left hand and ripped off his lower jaw. Before he could fall, Marco caught him by the throat.

"I…. Said shut up." His voice sounded like thousands speaking the same words. His breath was so hot burn marks cut across Deucalion's skin.

The Alpha gurgled his own lifeblood.

"I'm listening….. when the Warlocks infected my father and took everything from me, I didn't listen. They brought me here. I killed them all. I learned. Then you took my mother. Now, I'm listening….."

Tears fell from Deucalion's eyes as he squinted in the face of flames as bright as the sun.

"Do you know what they're…. Telling me, Deucalion?"

Deucalion began to panic. But he couldn't break Marco's grip.

"They're telling me they want to kill you."

"AHHH—"

Marco roared and electrical flames flowed from his jaws as he stood over the Alpha. The spark— the spirit— the power, of his people exploded from within Marco in a torrent of vengeful heat and swallowed Deucalion whole.

The whole banks interior lit up and the only shadow remaining was Marco himself at the source.

For miles the glow inside the bank could be seen.

And then, nothing. Nothing at all.

.....

.....

...

Marco stood alone. Half his body burned and steaming.

Nothing but ash at his feet. Like the sands of his home.

He turned around and made his way back to his mother. Just outside of the vault. Her cage for a while longer than he was comfortable with.

She looked so peaceful. Happy- even, as the sun began to rise.

In his mind he could hear his sisters.

He smiled and hit the ground.

As if the thud of his skull hitting the marble floor was a wake up alarm, Deaton's eyes burst open.

He stood up to survey the chaos under the early morning sun.

Then he looked down at his arm to check if his bite wound had grown infected.

To his surprise….

"Nothing…"