Chapter 10: The Prank to Find Malia and a New Path
My primary motivation, the reason I was here, was a quiet, feral girl who was lost in the woods. Malia Tate. I had caught a brief glimpse of her in her coyote form, a flash of yellow eyes and a streak of brown fur, and it had been enough. I knew I couldn't wait for the canon to bring her back. I had to find her.
The problem was, how do you find a feral Werecoyote in a town full of woods? With a prank, of course.
I was sitting in my bedroom, a sprawling, ridiculously luxurious room with a view of the entire town, and I was planning. My wealth was a tool, a resource, and I was going to use it. I had a plan, a ridiculous, over-the-top, and very, very expensive prank that was designed to find a Werecoyote.
"Okay, so I just got a text from you," Stiles said, his voice a frantic whisper through my phone. "It says, 'Meet me at the woods at midnight. Bring a pizza and a flashlight. And maybe a rope. And maybe a tranquilizer gun. I'm not entirely sure yet.' Dude, what is going on? What are we doing? This is sounding less like a prank and more like a very illegal, very stupid kidnapping."
Oh, Stiles. You'll never know. This is a game of chess, and Malia is the queen. The queen I'm trying to find. I'm a prankster, but I'm also a lover. This is the ultimate romantic gesture: a town-wide prank to find the girl of my dreams. It's a bit much, but hey, I'm a bit much. It's my brand. And my brand is about to get me a girlfriend. Or a restraining order. It's a coin toss.
"It's a prank, Stiles," I said, a low, conspiratorial chuckle escaping my lips. "A prank to find a very specific, very important animal. Don't worry about it. It's a very elaborate scavenger hunt. For a wolf. Or a coyote. Or maybe a unicorn. I'm still working out the details."
"A very important animal?" he asked, his voice rising a few octaves. "Dude, what kind of animal are we looking for? A rare breed of squirrel? A flying monkey? A unicorn with a penchant for arson? Because if it's the last one, I'm in."
"You'll see," I said, a little too quickly. "Just bring the pizza. And the tranquilizer gun."
The prank was a marvel of technology and absurdity. I had a team of people, a team I paid very well, to set up a series of motion-activated projectors in the woods. The projectors were designed to project a series of images—a giant, glowing, cartoonish wolf howling at the moon, a pack of flying monkeys, a unicorn with a rainbow coming out of its rear end. Each one was a new and confusing distraction, a new thread in a web of absurdity that was designed to confuse a town and find a Werecoyote.
We were standing in the woods at midnight, eating pizza, and I was watching. I was watching the projectors, a silent, predatory presence in the dark. I was a hunter, and my prey was a lost, confused girl.
"So, what's the plan?" Stiles asked, his voice a low, quiet whisper. "Are we going to catch a flying monkey?"
"We're going to catch something much more important," I said, a small, genuine smile on my face. "We're going to find a lost girl."
Suddenly, I saw it. A flash of brown fur in the distance. A pair of glowing yellow eyes. It was Malia. She had been drawn out by the absurdity of the prank, the weird, confusing chaos of a giant, cartoonish wolf howling at the moon.
She was watching us, her eyes wide with a mix of confusion and fear. She was a feral, wild thing, but she was also a lost, scared girl.
Malia. I found you. I felt a surge of emotion, a mix of relief, affection, and a healthy dose of determination. This was it. The moment I had been waiting for. I wasn't just a guy with a system anymore. I was a guy with a purpose. My purpose was her. And I was going to do whatever it took to bring her home.
I walked over to the spot where I had seen her, and I left a small, handwritten note on a tree stump. It said, "I know you're there. And I'm not going to hurt you. I'm going to help you." I also left a small, folded up piece of pizza. It was a strange gesture, a mixture of sincerity and absurdity, but it was the only thing I could think of.
I walked away, a ghost in the night, a silent witness to a very lost, very confused girl. I had found her. And I had done it with a series of projectors and a very, very good lie.
Then, I heard a new voice. A low, frustrated voice that was a mix of sarcasm and authority. "Stilinski! What are you doing in the woods at this hour? And what in the world is a unicorn with a rainbow coming out of its... never mind. What is going on here? And where is the pizza?"
It was Sheriff Stilinski. He was standing there, a confused and exasperated look on his face. Stiles, a blur of motion and panic, was trying to explain.
I just smiled. This was going to be a long night. And I had a feeling it was going to be a lot more complicated than a Rube Goldberg machine.
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