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Stiles was going to die, and the only solace he could take from it was that at least he was going out Monty Python style: death by killer rabbit, or whatever the hell the giant furry thing with buck teeth and large ears was. Whatever it was it would be haunting his nightmares with its blood matted fur and swaying mass of skin hanging off its bones—or it would, if he wasn’t going to die!
Stiles crouched and covered his head, having lost his weapon some time during the fight.
Scott had better keep his promise and delete his browser history, Stiles thought. Stiles really didn’t need his dad learning about some of his newest interests. Even Stiles starting to get creeped out by some of his new favorite websites.
His friends’ screams of alarm filled the air.
The cries were drowned out by a deafening roar.
A blur launched itself at the zombie-rabbit-thing and tackled it to the ground.
Stiles blinked in shock as his mind identified the blur as Peter wolfed out and tearing the rabbit-thing apart.
The rabbit shrieked in terror and pain. It kicked at Peter, it’s yellow, curved claws sinking into Peter’s side. The werewolf paid it no mind. Peter buried his claws into the rabbit’s intestines and yanked them out, covering himself in crimson like some terrible b-rated horror film.
The creature’s struggled lessened to the point of being muscle spasms, but Peter did not stop until he pulled out the creature’s heart and hurled the organ to the ground.
Silence reigned among the group.
Scott, Kira, and Liam were immobilized by the horrific display. Lydia seemed frozen too, but unlike the others, she gaped in disgust at Peter.
Peter rose from the corpse, straightening his clothes and peering at his claws like he’d been tending the garden and not slaughtering a monster.
“Stiles,” Peter said, his voice the epitome of calm. “Close your mouth unless you want to catch flies.”
Stiles snapped his mouth shut, only to have it fall open again with words pouring out. “I think I’m in love with you, and I’m terrified.”
Stiles heart jumped to his throat. His mouth all bout sew itself back together at his admittance.
Peter scoffed, but the corners of his mouth curled in amusement. “Of course you are.” He sauntered off, adding an extra sway to his hips.
The group watched as Peter sashayed away, unable to speak from shock.
“Um…” Kira looked around the group nervously, having recovered first from her astonishment. “Was he referring to the terrified part or the love part of Stiles’ confession?”
“Both,” Lydia answered.
Stiles nodded in agreement. There could be no other answer.