Chapter 5: The Full Moon and the Mimic's Struggle
The full moon was a force of nature. It wasn't just a celestial body; it was a living, breathing thing that pulled at the threads of the supernatural world. And for Scott, it was a living nightmare.
He was a mess. His eyes were glowing, his teeth were sharp, and he was struggling to control his transformation. He was a caged animal, a wild, untamed beast that was lashing out at anything and everything.
Stiles and I were his cage. We had him tied up in the McCall basement, the ropes straining against his newfound strength. Stiles was frantic, running around, talking a mile a minute, while I, the new guy, was trying to be the voice of reason.
This is it. The first big test. The first full moon. I have to make sure he doesn't hurt anyone. And I have to deal with my own power. I have a feeling this is going to be a long night.
The Mimic System was a quiet hum in the back of my mind. It wasn't dormant anymore. It was alive, a low-frequency pulse of energy and power. The pull of the moon was there, a subtle ache in my bones, a low growl in my throat. But it wasn't the overwhelming, mind-numbing pain that Scott was feeling. It was a manageable thing, a quiet suggestion, not a violent demand.
"He's getting worse!" Stiles yelled, a panicked look on his face. "The ropes are going to break! He's going to tear his head off! What do we do?"
"We wait," I said, a calm voice in the storm. "We just have to wait it out. The moon will pass. He'll be okay."
I walked over to Scott, who was thrashing against the ropes. His eyes were a burning, malevolent yellow. He was no longer the clumsy, goofy kid we knew. He was a werewolf, and he was terrified.
"Scott," I said, my voice low and soothing. "It's okay. It's just a phase. You'll get through this. We're here for you."
He snarled at me, a guttural, inhuman sound. But I didn't flinch. I just stood there, a rock in the middle of a hurricane.
Suddenly, I felt the pull of the moon intensify. My hands started to shake, my heart started to pound, and I felt a low, animalistic growl rumbling in my chest. The mimicked power was becoming a problem. It wasn't as bad as Scott, but it was there, and it was a threat.
My hands started to morph, my nails growing into claws. The familiar blue screen of the system flashed in my mind.
[WARNING: THE MIMICKED POWER IS REACHING CRITICAL LEVELS. INITIATING PROTOCOL: MANUAL CONTROL.]
I closed my eyes, and I focused. I focused on the feeling, the energy, the raw power that was threatening to consume me. I pushed it down. I bottled it up. I contained it. It was a mental battle, a war of wills, and for a moment, I wasn't sure I was going to win.
But I did.
My hands returned to normal, the low growl in my throat subsided, and the raw power of the mimicked werewolf was contained. It was still there, a low, quiet hum in the background, but it wasn't a threat anymore.
"What was that?" Stiles asked, his voice a low, shaky whisper. "Your... your hands."
I opened my eyes and gave him a tired smile. "It's nothing. Just a... a little side effect. I'll explain later. Right now, we have a bigger problem."
Suddenly, the basement door burst open. It was Derek Hale. He was a blur of motion, a silent, predatory presence. He looked at Scott, thrashing in the ropes, and then he looked at me, a flicker of something in his eyes.
He didn't say a word. He just walked over to Scott, a calm, authoritative presence. He put a hand on Scott's shoulder, and for a moment, it was like the storm had stopped. Scott's eyes, still yellow and malevolent, softened. The thrashing stopped. The growling subsided.
Derek looked at me, and I looked at him. There was a quiet understanding between us. He had seen it. He had seen my struggle. He had seen me win.
"You're not like him," he said, his voice a low growl. "You have control."
I just shrugged. "I'm just a really good meditator, Derek. It's a useful skill to have in a world full of angry werewolves."
He didn't say anything else. He just gave me one last, intense look and then he was gone, a silent phantom in the night.
I looked at Scott, who was now sleeping, his breathing even and calm. I looked at Stiles, who was still shaking. And I looked at my hands, which were now just normal, human hands.
The system is more than just a superpower. It's a tool. A weapon. And a curse. And I just figured out how to use it. I just hope it's enough to get us through the rest of this season.