chapter four
calming phrases

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ODESSA STONE could feel the effects of the full Moon that was shining above her. She kept going over everything Scott taught her in her head. The main point of his lesson was to breathe. Don't forget to breathe. The key was to keep your heart rate steady and calm—like nothing was wrong. The girl was currently sitting on the floor of her bedroom. It was a unanimous decision for Odessa to not get involved in the plan that was commencing that night. The guys' plan to rescue Boyd and the unknown girl from the bank vault. She later found out that the unknown girl was Derek's younger sister, Cora, who was thought to have died in the Hale fire. The Stone didn't fight the idea, she didn't want to get in the way and become even more of a problem. She felt like a burden ever since she came to Beacon Hills. She was living in the house of a boy who was helping her even though he didn't know her. Her lack of knowledge of who and what she was, was an underlying burden for everyone to deal with on top of everything else—or so she thought they thought that.

She shook those self deprecating thoughts from her head, taking several deep breaths. She wondered if she was like that before she got her memories taken away. The girl thought about it all the time. What was she like before falling asleep in those woods all those days ago? Was she stronger? Was she aware she had abilities that made her different? Did she have parents? Friends? The questions went on and on—and no one could answer them for her.

Meditating. That's the only way to describe what she was taught to do by Scott. The McCall hadn't gone into detail yet on how he sealed with the full Moon when he was newly turned, but even after knowing him for a few days, she observed just how controlled he was on the day and night of the full Moon.

So, there she sat, on her floor—home alone on a full Moon. Odessa took deep breaths through her nose and out of her mouth as she felt a natural phrase go through her lips—almost on instinct.

"The Sun, the Moon, the truth..."

The phrase comes out over and over again without her even realizing it. It was as if a force took over her body and was helping her do something she didn't know she could do. It was difficult to explain, the Stone observed, but by the time she muttered the phrase three times, she felt her heart become steady and less heavy, her shoulders losing its tenseness. Feeling these changes, Odessa slowly got up from the floor and over to her vanity. Sighing in relief at the sight of her brown eyes, she looked down at her hands in hesitation. After a split second of debating herself, the blonde brought her hand up, clenched her fist, and willed her claws to grow. And they did. Odessa breathed a laugh—she was doing it, she was finally learning control.

Just as she was about to try it again, the ring of her new phone sounded from her bed. Odessa managed to get an iPhone 4, not being able to afford the new one that just came out. Seeing the name that flashed on the screen, she sighed and brought the phone to her ear, "hi, Stiles—"

"Are you okay?"

The girl blinked at his rapid question, "yes, I'm fine, thank you. What happened? Did the plan work?"

"Not exactly," she heard the boy sigh, "Boyd and Cora escaped. Derek, Isaac and Scott are out looking for them now."

"What? Well, what are you calling me for? I have to help them!"

"No, no, no, absolutely not," the Stilinski rushed, running a hand through his grown hair, "listen, Scott and I don't want to leave you alone the whole night. I'm picking you up right now."

"Where are we going?"

"Lydia just called me. She said she needed to show me something."

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Stiles didn't wait for Odessa to get out of the car before he ran over to the Martin, who was gazing away from the pool, her arms around herself.

"Lydia? Lydia," the boy called, coming closer to her, "Lydia, are you okay?"

"I'm okay," the strawberry blonde stammered, "that, over there... not okay."

Odessa came closer to the pair, setting her eyes on what Lydia had found. There, on the lifeguard high chair, was a boy, who seemed to be killed gruesomely. The Stone wrapped an arm around her friend as Stiles looked between Lydia and the dead body, "yeah, all right. I'm gonna call my dad."

"I already called 911."

"You called the police before you called me?"

Lydia blinked from under Odessa's embrace, "I'm supposed to call you first when I find a dead body?"

"Yes!"

"Okay," the Stone started, not liking how loud Stiles had gotten, "you—call your Dad, please."

The boy did what he was told, calling his father and giving him the rundown, leaving out any supernatural influence as possible, before calling Scott and doing the same thing. Only difference, obviously Stiles expressed the supernatural influence he thought was there.

"Are you sure?"

"Yep," Stiles answered his best friend over the phone, "throat ripped out, blood everywhere. It's like the frickin' Shining over here. If two little twin girls come out of the woods, start asking me to play with them forever and ever, I'm not gonna be surprised."

Odessa was surprised when she could use her advanced hearing controllably to hear Scott on the other end, "can you get a little closer to make sure it was them?"

"Make sure it was them? Scott, who else is going around ripping throats out?"

"Please just do it."

Letting out an exasperated sigh, Stiles hung up and moved closer to the dead body. His eyes traveled all the way down to the boys' hand, seeing a purity ring on his finger.

Odessa saw the expression the boy held while observing the body, "what is it, Stiles? What do you see?"

Before he could answer, however, the sound of sirens echoed through the night, coming closer to their location. Even without his answer, the Stone knew something was going on—something bigger than they thought.

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"You didn't have to follow me home."

Odessa followed behind Stiles as she gazed around Lydia's room. The room was exactly how she thought it would look. Colorful and classy—that was Lydia Martin to her core. The Stone stayed at the doorway while Stiles moved further into the room in front of her.

"I just wanted to make sure you got in okay," Stiles defended as the Martin sat on her bed in front of them.

The strawberry blonde tilted her head, "I had a police escort."

"I know the inner workings of that force, all right? They're not nearly as reliable as people think."

"Well, you also didn't have to follow me into my room."

"Well, I—," the Stilinski paused, not thinking of an excuse for his actions, "uh, yeah, so don't have an answer for that," he gulped, "we can leave—come on, Odessa."

Lydia let out a chuckle filled scoff, "are you really gonna go without asking me the question that you've been dying to ask me?"

"Que—I'm not—I haven't been dying to ask anything," the boy raised a brow, "I—no questions here for Stiles. Odessa, do you have a question," the blonde shook her head slowly, not expecting to be brought into the conversation, "nothing."

"I can see it on your face."

"Maybe my face just has, like, a naturally interrogatory exp—expression."

"Well, your interrogatory expression is getting on my nerves," Lydia snapped slightly. After watching the boy sigh defeatedly, she continued, "the answer is, I have no clue how I ended up finding that body. I didn't even know where I was until I got out of the car."

"Yeah, but the last time something like this happened—"

"I know. Derek's Uncle."

"Peter."

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Odessa closed her eyes softly as the pounding in her head grew stronger. She had done pretty well for her first full Moon and control, but that didn't stop her body from feeling the effects. She leaned her head on the headrest of the passenger seat in Stiles' Jeep. The two had just left Lydia's house and were planning on going back to the McCall residence to wait for Scott.

The blonde's action caught the attention of the brunette driver, "you okay? You feeling it?"

"I've been feeling it all night," she shared, gazing up at the Moon, "I've been doing what Scott told me to do since you guys dropped me off after school. I even got my claws to come out at will. I don't think I've ever done that before."

Stiles nodded, pleased with her progress, "good. That's good. How did you get under control so well?"

"I kept repeating this phrase," the girl pursed her lips, "I didn't even realize I was saying it until I felt myself becoming more calm."

"What's the phrase?"

"The Sun, the Moon, the truth."

After her answer, the Jeep rolled into another round of silence. The Stone glanced at the boy a couple times before asking a question that's been on her mind for a while—even before tonight.

"So," she trailed, "how long have you been in love with Lydia?"

The Jeep lurched harshly before it returned to driving as smoothly as it could. Stiles glanced at the blonde with wide eyes, "w-what?"

"I see the way you look at her—act around her. And your chemo signals are off the charts when you're around her."

"I," without seeing a counter argument, the Stilinski sighed, "I've had a crush on her since, like, forever."

"Well, what are you waiting for," Odessa exclaimed, "ask her out!"

Stiles scoffed, keeping his eyes on the road, "she'd never go for me..."

"Why do you think that?"

"Because she's Lydia... and I'm... me."

It was Odessa's turn to scoff, "that is the dumbest thing I've ever heard. Stiles, any girl would be lucky to have you. You're funny and caring—everything a girl would want in a guy. And if Lydia can't see that then it's her loss."

The blonde's statement hung in the air of the Jeep as Stiles was stunned into silence. Here this girl was, a girl he met only a few days ago, telling him that he was the perfect guy for any girl. No one had ever said anything like that to him before. And coming from her, it felt good, for unknown reasons. Before he could muster up a response, his phone rang. He furrowed his brow at the caller ID, but answered nonetheless.

"Melissa?"

"I need you to come down to the hospital. Now."

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The rest of the ride to the hospital was quiet between the two teens. Once parked, Odessa felt a sense of deja vu as she followed behind Stiles into Beacon Hills Memorial Hospital to meet Melissa. The woman was looking through a file on the counter near the entrance, looking up to see Stiles and, to her surprise, Odessa.

After exchanging pleasantries, Melissa guided the two down the hall, "over here. And if you tell anyone that I showed you this, I swear to God, I will kill you painfully and slowly."

Matching the woman's low tone, Stiles spoke from next to Odessa, "why do you want to show me a body I've already seen?"

"Because you haven't seen everything."

The three traveled into the morgue, Melissa locking the door behind her. The woman moved to the cabinet of the boy found by Lydia and removed the sheet, revealing his body, "see this around his neck," the woman pointed to the slashed neck, a bruise above the slash, "that's a ligature mark. That means that he was strangled with something, like cord, rope—"

"Ah, okay, wait a second," the Stilinski muttered as the blonde next to him crossed her arms in thought, trying to process the information, "what kind of werewolf strangles someone? You know, that's not very werewolf-y."

"My thoughts exactly," Melissa nodded, moving toward the head, "and then there's this," she tilted the head to reveal a bloody hole.

Stiles shuddered, looking away from the body, "God, man, what is that? Is that brain matter? Yeah, it's brain matter, of course."

"See the indentation? He was hit in the back of the head, hard enough to kill him," the McCall woman stressed, "in fact, any one of these could have killed him. I mean, someone seriously wanted this poor kid dead."

"All right, so then this couldn't have been Boyd or Cora, you? They wouldn't have done all that. So maybe this is just one murder. I mean, maybe it's just a random coincidence."

"I don't think it was just one."

"How come?"

"Because that girl over there," the woman motioned to another body under a sheet, "she's got the exact same injuries."

Odessa inhaled sharply as soon as the sheet was lifted from the second victim. Heather. The Stone instantly took Stiles' hand without thought as she saw the boy's eyes start to water.

"The M.E said this one wasn't just strangled," Melissa didn't know the change in the teens' behavior, "whoever did it used a garrote, which is a stick that you put through the rope, and you just kind of keep twisting, and—Stiles," she didn't get a response as the boy kept staring at his childhood friend, "oh, my God, did you know her," she received a faint nod, "I'm so sorry. I didn't even think."

Odessa watched her friend numbly speak, her hand still in his, "I was—I was at her party," the boy tearfully spoke, "it was her birthday. Her name is Heather."

Melissa looked at the boy with soft eyes, "okay, we need to call your father, 'cause you're a witness."

Suddenly, as if something came to him, Stiles looked up with a more solid look in his eye. He glanced back to the boy, then back at Heather.

"Stiles?"

He turned to Melissa after a few moments of silence, "has anyone else been through here tonight? Any—any other bodies, or even anybody missing?"

"Uh, no, no bodies, but, um—"

"What?"

"Two girls," the woman informed, "they brought the first one in, Caitlin, for a Tox screen, and then I overheard that her girlfriend, Emily, just disappeared. I mean, they were out in the woods and—"

"Nobody's found her yet?"

"I don't know."

"Okay, first one."

"Caitlin."

"Is she here? I have to talk to her."

Odessa broke her silence from next to him, "what are you thinking, Stiles?"

"I think I know what's happening."

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After talking with Caitlin, Stiles seemed to be even more confident with his theory than before. The two teens met with Scott back in the morgue to discuss what they have learned over the past few hours. Odessa watched Stiles put the cover over Heather's body.

"So Boyd and Cora might not have killed anyone," asked Scott, sounding relieved.

"You're gonna wish they did."

"Why?"

"I'm not exactly sure yet," the Stilinski muttered, looking at the covered body in front of him, "the other girl who was out in the woods, Emily? Eventually, they're gonna find her. She's one of them. Emily, Heather... that guy Lydia found at the pool. All three were virgins. And they're all going to have the same three injuries—strangled, throat slashed, head bashed in. It's called the Threefold Death."

"So," the McCall in the room started, still trying to digest everything, "if these aren't random killings, then what are they?"

"Sacrifices."

The two boys looked to Odessa, who spoke for the first time in a while. It was quiet between them until Stiles nodded.

"Human sacrifices."

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