┏━━━━⋆°.☾⋆.ೃ࿔*:⋆━━━━┓

SACRIFICIAL LAMB

EMERSON FELT LIKE SHE HAD DIED AND CAME BACK TO LIFE.

Her whole body ached, the sort that made her think she had gotten hit by a semi truck if she had a human pain tolerance. The fact that she felt like this with a werewolf pain tolerance was more than alarming, especially when it was a fight to open her eyes.

The first thing she noticed was the dimness of the area she was in, the cobwebs and whistling wind from above alluded to the fact that she was somewhere underground.

Her head sagged against the wooden beam behind her, and only when she tried to move did she realize that she was tied to the very beam itself. There was a searing sensation as she tried to tug against the restraint, one that made her yelp in pain.

"Oh thank God you're awake."

Emerson turned to the voice instantly, blinking away the haze covering her eyes before they settled on another figure that was bound. "Sheriff?"

Sheriff Stilinski tried giving her a courageous smile, the kind that most law enforcement officers usually dished out during troublesome situations. "How're you doing, kid?"

Well, it looks like she was the first to get an answer as to where the man had disappeared to. She tried to grin back, but it probably looked more like a grimace more than anything. "Funnily enough, I've been worse."

That roused a chuckle from the man across the room of what looked like a creepy basement, the walls lined with shelves and dust. "Fair enough," he responded. "Is there any leeway on the restraints?"

Again, Emerson tried pulling against it with all the strength she could muster, but it only made more pain spread from her wrist. It felt like rope, one that was perhaps doused in something that was setting her wrists aflame. "No," she grit out. She tried her claws, willing them to appear, but failed— yet another thing that was worrisome.

Her eyelids were growing heavy the more she pulled. "No, there's nothing."

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The next time she had blinked herself to consciousness, she saw that they were joined by two other people in the dingy old basement. She was more than surprised to see Melissa McCall and Chris freaking Argent there alongside her and the Sheriff.

These were all parents of those who ran with Scott, all three of them, and then there was Emerson. She didn't know how she fit into this demographic, nor why Jennifer Blake was obviously parading around as a meek English teacher when she evidently was not.

"Try not to pull too much on your wrist, honey," that was Melissa's voice from her place across from the sheriff. Emerson saw the way she'd been looking at the place where her hands had been died against the pole she was propped against.

The blonde weakly nodded. "Give me a visual," she said, noticing how the woman's own hands were tied right in front of her as opposed to behind like the three others. Hell, at least she wasn't strapped against the beam like the Argent man was. "What's it look like?"

Melissa looked. "The rope around your hands isn't like ours; it's darker in colour," she noted, and for a second her lip was pulled between her lip. "You're bleeding, so the wound might get infected if we don't—"

"I'm like your son, Melissa," she responded, cutting her off. Her eyes gave a flicker, a weak one, to show she was telling the truth. "I'll be fine."

Melissa's eyes were wide, though she was looking uncertain of the truth behind that last statement. Her mouth opened just as she was about to voice that opinion, but was disrupted by the sound of Chris Argent waking up with a loud gasp. They all watched as he took in his surroundings, fighting against the ropes that had him bound, before groaning in displeasure.

"Is it just me or has somebody been here before?" the sheriff asked in regard to the other man's reaction to their situation.

"Years ago," was his response, the man beginning to wiggle around in place.

"Hate to disappoint you, but we watched her take your ankle knife," Sheriff Stilinski said.

"And the knife that's in your sleeve," Melissa added.

He kept searching for something. "And the switchblade in your other sleeve."

Emerson scoffed, the very sound echoed. "Way to stay strapped, Mr Argent."

At the sound of her voice, Chris turned to her like a whip. Recognition filtered onto his face, despite them never having come face to face. "Emerson Avery?" he questioned. "My daughter knows you."

She gave a sheepish smile, knowing that the last time she'd even seen the Argent girl was when they were attacking one another months ago. "A lot of people know me," she dismissed, "but yeah, guilty."

Footsteps from above were approaching, the hatch to the basement opening with moonlight filtering in. "I also took the taser in your jacket pocket," came the sound of Ms Blake's voice as she descended down the steps. She approached Chris first with taunting steps. "Argent. The French word for silver. Interesting how truth becomes altered by legend when it's not actually the metal silver that kills werewolves, but the family."

Despite hating this woman, Emerson would've chuckled if she could, and if it was the right timing, of course. The blonde never did like the Argents all that much. "What's the Argent code again? We hunt those who hunt us?" she continued on. "I hope you don't mind if I borrow it for a little while since I've been hunted myself."

"Don't pretend like we have the same cause," Chris grumbled in return. "I don't kill innocent people."

"That's why they call it a sacrifice, and I wish it worked another way, Jennifer reminded him with ease. "You are making this town, even this world, safer for your children. Well... most of them."

She pointedly looked at Melissa with that last comment, and Emerson was getting increasingly more annoyed with every passing second. "If you're going to sacrifice us, can you just get it over with?" she snapped, inadvertently pulling on the ropes again. Her eyes screwed shut, but at least it was something that made Jennifer take her attention off of Chris.

"You see, Emerson, you're here for a bit of a different reason. You serve a different purpose," the Blake woman said. "I'm surprised you haven't figured it out by now." 

Her eyes rolled on their own. "I didn't exactly get an A in my cryptic language class."

Based on the narrowing of the woman's eyes, she wasn't a fan of her sarcastic remarks all that much. "Your father turned me into this," she seethed. "I want revenge. And if all else fails, I still have you— his flesh and blood."

Emerson blanched, realizing that in some sick way, all four of them in that basement were sacrifices to Jennifer. Three human ones, and one reserved as a final blow to Deucalion.

"He doesn't care about me," she said with a shake of her head, thought distantly she could hear the wobble of her voice in her eardrum. "Not nearly enough to make you think I'm worth something to him."

Jennifer pursed her lips. "He hunted you down for years in order to reunite, to do some psycho father-daughter bonding exercises before joining him," she responded blandly. "He cares enough."

"You're wrong," Emerson retaliated with a scowl. "I left him, and I'm fairly certain that if you killed me, it'd be doing him a favour. Shit, you'd— you'd be doing me a favour."

The woman smirked down at her. "You betrayed him and yet here you are, still alive," she pointed out, knowing Deucalion had all the time in the world to ambush her. "That's why you're my bait— my leverage. Your life is in my hands, and Deucalion isn't the only one who would want you alive."

There it was, that pesky insinuation that more people cared about her. It was a nauseating sense of deja vu for her, because nothing ever ended well when that was the case. Really, Jennifer killing her now would spare her the trouble of either having to be hunted for the rest of her life, or having to watch others be hurt because of her.

"Now, hold on—" Melissa's voice rang out. "Your dad is the man who's after my son?"

Emerson's shoulders sagged at the question. "Guilty... again," she said, "but if it's any consolation, he's never won any father of the year awards, so..."

Jennifer's shoulders rolled back, and she made way for the stairs toward the exit once more. "You all hang tight," she said dismissively, as if there were any other choice.

"This will all be over before you know it."

With that, the four captives were left alone once more, Jennifer retreating the way she'd came after locking the hatch.

Emerson's head lulled forward, but in her peripheral, she could see Chris digging for something in his back pocket from his tied up place near her. He pulled out something small, not a weapon, and obviously hadn't been something the woman confiscated.

"What is that?" Melissa asked as she peered over.

"Ultrasonic emitter," he filled in. "A small version of what we use to control werewolves. Only they hear it, and most of the time we use it to push them away. Let's see if it works to attract them."

"Will it hurt?" came Emerson's follow up question, and she internally hated how timid she sounded.

Chris looked at her. "It might be a little uncomfortable," he said, and she appreciated his honesty. "It's our only option."

Sucking in a breath, she couldn't let herself be the cause of them not getting help. Surely one of the werewolves in town would be lured to the sound of the device in his hand worked.

She nodded, eyes closing. "Do it, then."

When the button on the device was clicked, all she could hear was an incessant ringing in her ears. Distantly, her breathing began to pick up.

It wasn't enough to hurt, but just enough to wish that Jennifer should've put her out of her misery when she had the chance.

Their only hope.

⋆°.☾⋆.ೃ࿔*:⋆

[ wyn's note ]

emmy is officially a pawn yet again. will I let this girl breathe? mayhaps or mayhaps not.

all my love!! we are closing in on the finale....