Chapter 72

The house settled into silence, the kind that rang in Silver’s ears. His glasses were off now, sitting forgotten on Ren’s desk. His blind eye stared unfocused at the floor while the other tracked Ren as he paced the room like a caged animal.

“Kira’s asleep,” Ren said finally, breaking the silence. “Barely. She kept jerking awake.”

Scott shifted near the dresser, arms folded tight. “Is she okay?”

Ren stopped pacing and turned on him. “She almost killed someone tonight, Scott.”

The words landed heavy.

Silver swallowed. “She didn’t mean to-“

“I know that,” Ren snapped, then dragged a hand through his hair. “That’s what scares me.”

Scott took a careful step forward. “What happened with her, we’ve never seen it hold like that before.”

Ren’s eyes flicked to Scott. “You are the true alpha. Aren’t you supposed to fix this?”

Silver stiffened. “That’s not fair.”

“Isn’t it?” Ren shot back. Ren glared at Scott.

Silver hesitated, then spoke, quieter, pulling the attention away from Scott. “I saw them.”

Both of them stilled.

“The men in masks in my vision,” Silver continued. “When I touched the silver stuff. They were there.” His jaw tightened. “Same masks.”

Ren frowned. “You didn’t say that before.”

“I didn’t know how,” Silver said. “Or if it was even real.”

Scott nodded from the other side of the room. “I know. But right now we don’t even know who we’re fighting. The guys in the masks-no symbols, no lore, nothing in the bestiary.”

Silver exhaled slowly. “You think Theo can help us figure out who they are.”

“Yeah,” Scott said. “At least that.”

Scott’s phone buzzed in his pocket, sharp and insistent. He glanced at the screen, tension spiking. “Hold on.” He hesitated, looking between them. “I’ll be right back.”

The door closed behind him, leaving Silver and Ren alone.

Ren dropped onto the edge of his bed and, after a beat, patted the space beside him. Silver hesitated only a second before crossing the room and sitting down, shoulders hunched, hands clasped tightly together.

Ren studied him carefully. “What did Michael say?” he asked quietly. “The last time you saw him.”

Silver’s throat worked. “He wasn’t… smug. Or calm. He was scared.” He rubbed his hands together.

Ren tilted his head. “Can he at least tell you what happened to you?”

Silver laughed once, hollow. “That’s what I keep asking.” Then, quieter, “What if I already went through this?”

Ren turned to him fully. “What?”

“I almost died when I was born.” Silver said. “My lungs weren’t developed. My dad said that it was an experimental oxygen treatment with silver.” He swallowed. “What if it wasn’t just silver?”Silver looked up at him, eyes raw. “Why else would I see the same men? Why else would it react to me?”

Before Ren could answer, the door opened hard.

Scott stepped back in, face pale. “Someone broke into the clinic.”

🎭

The copiers hummed loudly in the otherwise quiet library, the sound echoing just a little too much. Scott stood with his arms crossed, watching the pages slide out one by one. Kira stacked them neatly, tapping the edges into alignment. Silver hovered beside the machine, keeping one eye on the librarian’s desk like he expected to be tackled at any second.

“Done?” Scott asked quietly.

Kira checked the last page. “Done.”

The copier let out a sad, mechanical beep and flashed an OUT OF INK message across the screen.

All three of them froze.

Slowly, the librarian looked up from her desk. She didn’t say anything-she didn’t need to. The glare alone felt like a threat.

Silver lifted his wrapped hand in a half – hearted apology. “Uh… sorry.”

They gathered the papers quickly and moved away, keeping their heads down as they headed for the stairs.

As they descended, Scott broke the silence. “I don’t think the Dread Doctors are the ones stealing the bodies.”

Silver glanced at him. “Are we really calling them that now?”

Scott shrugged. “Until someone comes up with something better.” He frowned, thinking. “Look-Tracy. Lucas. They killed them and walked away. If they wanted the bodies, they could’ve taken them then. Why leave and come back?”

“So you think someone else is cleaning up?” Kira asked.

“Yeah,” Scott said. “Someone following behind them.”

Kira’s grip tightened on the stack of papers. “But the bodies aren’t just bodies. They’re… failures.” She hesitated. “So if all the Chimeras are failures-what does a success look like?”

Scott didn’t answer right away.

Then, quietly, “Bad. Probably really bad.”

They reached the stairs.

Silver stepped forward first, his wrapped hand brushing the cool metal handrail without thought as he started down.

The reaction hit instantly.

Heat flared beneath the bandages-sharp, vicious, like the skin underneath was being branded all over again. The mark burned red – hot beneath the fabric, pain ripping up his arm and slamming behind his left eye so hard his vision stuttered.

For a split second, he almost screamed.

Instead, he staggered and grabbed Scott’s sleeve, fingers digging in hard.

“Hey-Silver?” Scott turned, alarm flooding his face. “What’s wrong?”

Silver forced a breath, jaw clenched so tight it hurt. “It’s-” He swallowed. “Just a headache.”

Scott didn’t buy it, not for a second. “That didn’t look like a headache.”

“I’m fine,” Silver lied, already pulling away. “I just-bathroom. Two minutes.”

He didn’t wait for permission.

Inside the bathroom, he locked himself into the far stall and braced both hands on the sink. His reflection stared back at him, pale and shaken. Slowly, carefully, he began to unwind the wrap around his hand.

The bandages peeled back to reveal the mark was red, blistered, like it had been burned into him from the inside out.

“What the hell…” he whispered.

A high – pitched whine cut through his skull, rising and falling like feedback from a broken radio. It crackled, stuttered-almost forming words before collapsing back into static.

Then came the screams.

Layered. Distant. Overlapping.

Not one person-many. Fear – soaked and sharp, some cut off too suddenly, others dragged out until they warped into something unrecognizable. They didn’t sound like they were happening now-they sounded old. Recorded. Replayed.

The static surged again, louder this time, swallowing everything. His vision blurred, pressure building behind his eye until it felt like it might split open.

Silver squeezed his eyes shut, sliding down until his back hit the tile.

“No,” he whispered. “No, no-“

This wasn’t how his visions worked.

The screams faded last, dissolving back into static, then silence.

Silver stayed there, shaking, staring at his burned palm.

🎭

The parking lot had emptied out. Lydia leaned against her car, arms folded loosely. Silver stood a few feet away, backpack slung over one shoulder, hands buried deep in his pockets.

“You’ve noticed it too, right?” Silver said quietly. “Ren’s twitchy around Theo. He’s acting… off.”

Lydia glanced at him, one brow lifting. “Oh, I noticed.” A corner of her mouth curved. “Ren’s specialty is not being subtle.”

Silver frowned. “You’re not going to tell me that’s normal.”

She smiled a little wider. “Aw, little Argent.”

“I’m older than you,” Silver protested automatically.

Lydia laughed, real and warm, and for just a moment the tension eased. Then she saw his face-too serious, too tight.

“What?” she asked. “What are you not telling me?”

Silver hesitated. “I went to see Michael.”

Lydia went still.

The humor drained from her expression instantly, replaced by something sharper, colder. “You did what?”

“I did it for you,” Silver said quickly. “I thought if I could get answers-“

“Don’t,” Lydia cut in, pushing off the car and taking a step back. Her voice was calm, but it carried weight. “Don’t use me as your reason.”

“That’s not what I’m doing,” Silver said, hurt flashing across his face. “You almost died.”

“And that doesn’t give you permission to walk back into his orbit,” Lydia shot back. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

Silver looked down, jaw tight. “Because I knew you’d try to stop me.”

“Yes,” Lydia said flatly. “Because he’s the actual devil.”

She took a breath, steadying herself, then continued-measured, deliberate. “Every time you’re around Michael, you forget what he’s done to you. You minimize it. You rationalize it. And I know why-you think you owe Allison. You think keeping that promise makes you loyal.”

Her eyes softened, just slightly. “But you don’t owe him anything. You don’t owe anyone your pain.”

“He tried to kill you,” she added quietly. “That’s not complicated.”

The silence between them thickened.

“Who took you?” Lydia asked.

“Ren,” Silver said. “He… didn’t take it well either.”

“And Scott?” she asked, already knowing she wouldn’t like the answer.

“He doesn’t know,” Silver admitted. “About any of it.”

Lydia closed her eyes for a brief second. When she opened them, her expression was steady, resolved.

“Then you’d better hope he doesn’t find out tonight,” she said.

She stepped back toward her car, then stopped, turning to face Silver one last time. Her voice softened, but it didn’t lose its weight.

“I love you,” Lydia said. “Scott loves you too. And I can’t sit by and watch you destroy the best thing in your life.”

Then she reached for her door. “I’m going to check on Stiles before we leave. I’ll see you later.”

Lydia got into her car and shut the door gently, leaving Silver standing alone in the quiet parking lot-hands clenched in his pockets.

🎭

Kira’s room was a mess-drawers half – open, clothes pulled free and tossed aside in growing frustration. She dropped to her knees, lifting the edge of her bed, then sat back on her heels with an annoyed huff.

“Where did I put it?” she muttered.

“Ki?” Ren’s voice came from the doorway. “We’re going to be late.”

“I know,” Kira snapped, then immediately softened. She sat back on her heels and let out a long breath. “I can’t find my belt.”

Ren frowned, stepping farther into the room. “The sword belt?”

“Yes, the sword belt,” she said, rubbing her face. “I wouldn’t be freaking out over a regular belt.”

She sighed and looked up at him, studying his face like she was weighing something.

“Can you do me a favor?” she asked.

Ren frowned. “That depends.”

“Can you take a picture of me?” She hesitated, then added, “With the flash.”

Now Ren was fully confused. “Why?”

“Please, Ren,” she said, a little quieter.

He studied her for a second, then nodded. “Okay… sure.”

Ren pulled out his phone and lifted it, snapping a quick picture. The flash went off, bright in the small room.

He glanced down at the screen-and froze.

For just a second, Kira’s fox aura filled the frame, larger than he’d ever seen it before, glowing and vivid around her like it was leaning forward, alert.

Kira tilted her head. “What?” she asked. “What do you see?”

Ren locked his screen and slid the phone back into his pocket, forcing a crooked smile. “You blinked. It was a terrible photo.”

“I did not.”

“You totally did,” he said lightly, already moving past her. “Very un – photogenic.” His gaze dropped to the floor near her desk.

He bent down and picked up the belt. “Found it.”

Kira’s shoulders sagged in relief. “Oh my god.”

He handed it to her. “Can we go now?”

🎭

Ren leaned into the intercom like it had personally offended him, pressing the button again. And again. And again.

The buzzer crackled in protest.

Lydia arched an eyebrow. “You know you’re going to break it.”

Ren nodded, dead serious. “That’s the plan.”

Kira snorted. Lydia couldn’t help smiling.

Silver stood just behind them, hands in his jacket pockets, eyes on the gate. He looked calm on the outside, but there was a tightness in his shoulders that hadn’t been there earlier.

Ren finally stepped back from the intercom with a sigh, boredom already setting in. His gaze drifted toward the Jeep, where Scott and Stiles were standing off to the side, voices low.

“When the other Chimera-Lucas,” Scott was saying, “when he came after us… I heard Kira say something. In Japanese.”

Stiles nodded “That doesn’t sound so bad.”

Ren stopped short. “She doesn’t know Japanese.”

Stiles shrugged. “Still not terrible.”

Scott frowned. “I also think I might’ve stopped her from killing him.”

Stiles tilted his head. “Okay, but-he was trying to kill you. That feels like pretty textbook self – defense.”

“It wasn’t just that,” Scott said. “She almost took his head off.”

Silver shifted his weight, listening quietly, his expression unreadable.

“Maybe she had no other choice? There’s gotta be a point where self – defense is justified. Tracy killed her own father, and Lucas would have killed you.” Stiles said and Scott shook his head,

“They’re not the bad guys’ they’re the victims. We shouldn’t be killing the people we’re supposed to save.” Scott said .

Before anyone could say anything else, the gate buzzed sharply and slid open. They all paused, exchanging brief looks, then moved toward it. Scott pushed the gate wider and they stepped through together.

They’d barely made it halfway up the stairs when the gate slammed shut behind them. The sound was loud and final enough to make everyone stop. Slowly, they turned and looked back at it-locked, unmoving.

Inside, the air felt colder. An orderly stood behind the counter, already setting a plastic bucket down with a hollow thud.

“Please empty your pockets into the container,” Schrader said flatly.

“We’re here to see-” Scott started.

“Please empty your pockets into the container,” Schrader repeated, cutting him off without missing a beat.

They exchanged looks, resigned, then began pulling things out-phones, keys, wallets-each clatter against the plastic sounding too loud in the quiet space.

Schrader’s gaze shifted to Kira. “Please remove your belt and place it into the container.”

Kira’s eyes widened. “I kind of need the belt,” she said carefully. “It’s… crucial to the outfit.”

“Please remove your belt,” Schrader replied, unfazed, “which patients may attempt to take from you and use to strangle either themselves or others.”

Kira sighed. “Right. Got it.” She unbuckled the belt and dropped it into the bucket.

Silver lifted his gaze and caught Lydia’s eye. He shook his head slightly-a silent plea. Don’t argue. Don’t push this.

She held his look for a beat, then let it go.

“You okay?” Scott asked quietly, stepping closer.

“Yeah,” Silver said, a little too quickly.

“We can leave,” Scott added. “If this is too much-“

“I’m fine,” Silver snapped, sharper than he meant to. He took a breath, steadying himself. “I’m fine.”

Before anyone could respond, a door opened down the hall. Footsteps approached, measured and calm.

“Follow me,” Dr. Fenris said, appearing in the doorway.

They turned toward him, the conversation cut off, and followed as Eichen House closed in around them.

“I’ll remind you that I’m only doing this as a favor to Deaton,” Dr. Fenris said flatly as he led them down the stairs, “and I’m doing it against my better judgment.”

“Cool, cool,” Stiles muttered, then leaned closer to Ren. “Quick question-what’s the etiquette for talking to this guy? I mean, do you ever look at the other eye?”

“I wouldn’t,” Dr. Fenris replied without slowing. He glanced back at them, expression unreadable. “In fact, while you’re down here, try not to make eye contact with anyone. Or anything.”

That shut Stiles up.

They reached the bottom of the stairs and stepped into a long, dim hallway. The air felt heavier here, colder somehow. After a few steps, Silver noticed Scott and Kira had stopped at the threshold.

He stopped too. So did Ren, Lydia, and Stiles.

“You didn’t think you were all going, did you?” Dr. Fenris asked mildly.

Realization crossed Silver’s face. He glanced at the faint, almost invisible line etched into the floor.

“Mountain ash,” he said quietly.

Dr. Fenris nodded. “Everywhere. But heavily concentrated down here.”

Dr. Fenris swiped his keycard through the reader. The lock clicked, the door sliding open with a low mechanical hum. “Valack’s cell is the last one at the end of the hall.”

Silver hesitated, then looked back at Scott and Kira. Scott gave a small nod. “We’ll be right here.”

Kira added softly, “Don’t take long.”

As the door sealed behind them, the sound echoed down the hallway. Lydia looped her arm through Stiles’s, pulling him a little closer as they walked. Ren stayed slightly behind them, eyes scanning every door, every shadow. Silver walked quietly at his side, shoulders tight, jaw set.

They passed the first room.

Stiles glanced inside without meaning to-and froze.

Donovan stood there.

Stiles’s breath caught, and he turned away so fast he nearly walked into Lydia. She followed his gaze for half a second before forcing herself to look forward again.

They passed the next cell.

This one held something else entirely.

Not human. Not animal. Something hunched and twisted, shifting in a way that made Silver’s skin prickle. He felt it more than saw it-a pressure behind his eye, a faint pull in his chest.

They exchanged looks. No one spoke. They stopped in front of the last cell.

“Tell me what you just saw,” Valack said calmly from inside, already smiling.

Stiles blinked. “Me?”

“The previous cell,” Valack continued. “The Sluagh. A creature said to take on the appearance of lost souls that have become bound to it.” His head tilted slightly. “Happen to have seen any lost souls, Mr. Stilinski?”

Stiles swallowed. “Everyone down here.”

Valack’s smile widened. “Don’t give up on us yet. We’re all works in progress.”

Lydia hummed softly, uneasy. “Where did you hear that?” Valack stood, walking closer to the glass. “Wise words from a former cellmate.”

“Did you bring the book?” Valack asked and Stiles pulled the book out from his waistband and held it up. “Very nice. First edition. Of course, there was only one printing.” Valack said and Silver squinted at him, “There is no T.R. McCammon, is there?”

“No.”

“You wrote the book.” Lydia said, “That’s right, Lydia. Maybe you’ve already guessed that it’s not just a book.” He said as Lydia tightened her grip on ‘s arm. “What is it then?” Silver asked, making him look over at him, “A tool… Designed to open your eyes.”

“To what?” Stiles asked, and he looked at him, “To them… The Dread Doctors.” Valack said.

“Why did you use a pseudonym?” Lydia asked, “I had a professional reputation once – I wasn’t interested in ruining it by putting my name on a second – rate piece of trash.” He said, making Ren furrow his brows in confusion. “Then why write the book in the first place?” he asked and he looked over at him.

Valack turned fully toward him now. Studied him.

“You haven’t read it yet,” Valack said. “But you’ve seen them.”

The room went still.

Ren’s head snapped toward Silver. Lydia stiffened.

“I wrote the book because no one believed me,” Valack continued. “Because no one listened. But you-” His smile sharpened. “You didn’t need the book, did you?”

Silver’s voice was steady, but quiet. “What are they?”

“Not entirely human. At least, not anymore. They were scientists once… Scientists who worshiped the supernatural. Tesla said, “If you want to find the secrets of the universe, think in terms of energy, frequency, and vibration.” They found their secrets in electromagnetic forces – ways to prolong their lives, give them power, and, most importantly, making you forget you ever saw them.”

“What do they want?” Lydia asked, making him look at her, “Good question, Lydia. Everybody wants something, don’t they?” He asked and rolled her eyes. “What do you want?” She asked

and he held up a recorder and placed it in the hand slot.

“Hit record.” He said, making them look at him warily, “What do you want me to say?” Lydia asked. “I don’t want you to say anything… I want you to scream.” He said and instantly shook her head.

Silver shook his head immediately. “No.”

He pulled the recorder away as Lydia pushed all three boys aside.

“He’s the only one who knows anything,” Lydia whispered.

“He drilled a hole in his head,” Ren muttered. “That’s not exactly trustworthy.”

“How many have died so far?” Valack asked, making them look at him, “All of them teenagers? Am I right? Want to know how many died the first time they came here? Wonder how many more will die if they succeed?” He asked and then the lights flashed.

“This has happened before,” Lydia said.

Valack nodded. “And now they’re back. Because a few teenagers reignited a supernatural force they didn’t understand.”

“The Nemeton,” Silver said.

Valack’s eyes flicked to him again. “You see patterns quickly.”

“How do you even know about that?” Stiles demanded.

“Because I saw it,” Valack snapped.

He ripped the bandage from his head, revealing the third eye. The lights flickered harder.

“You know,” Valack said suddenly, turning his head directly toward Silver, “you have one too.”

Silver stiffened.

“What?” Ren demanded.

Valack smiled, pleased. “You’ve seen them. Not just shadows. Not dreams. You recognized them.”

Silver didn’t answer.

“You didn’t need the book,” Valack continued. “You remembered on your own.”

The lights flickered harder.

“Who did you come with?” Valack asked suddenly.

“Our friends.” Lydia said and he looked slightly alarmed, “What are they?” He asked and shook her head. “Don’t answer that.” Ren said and Valack looked at him before realization crossed over his features.

“You brought a Kitsune.” Valack said and then a light shattered making them jump, “What the hell is happening?” Ren asked. “She’s disrupting the building’s defenses.” He said, making them look at him, “What do you mean? How?” Lydia asked.

“It’s not just the mountain ash that keeps this building secure – it’s the electromagnetic energy. Eichen is built on the convergence to telluric currents. Ley lines. It’s what allows it to keep certain supernatural creatures in… and certain others out. They knew you were coming. They’re here. And you unlocked the door for them.” He said.

“Hit record. Do it now! It costs you nothing.” Valack said and squinted at him, “But it’s worth something to you, so you’re not getting it for free.” said. “What does the book do?” Lydia demanded but Valack didn’t say anything, “Tell us!”

“I told you – it opens your eyes.” Valack said and rolled her eyes, “How?” She asked. “It triggers the memory centers of the brain, clearing the fog and bringing the images of the Dread Doctors into focus. I wrote the book in an effort to find out if anyone else like me had ever seen them before. I thought I could circulate it, an effort to trigger someone’s – anyone else’s – memory.

They’d see the cover, a hint of memory… They pick up the book, read it… The suppressed memories surface, and they’d find their way to me to discover more. Just like you did.” Valack explained.

He smiled faintly at Silver.

“I wrote it to find someone else like me,” he said. “Someone else who had seen them.”

“Did it work with anyone else?” Silver asked Valack look over at him, “You didn’t see it on The New York Times’ Best Seller list, did you?” He asked. “So, all we have to do is read the book?” Stiles asked and he nodded.

“If you’ve seen them-if they’ve done something to you-then the book will help you remember,” Valack said, voice smooth, certain. “Now give me what I want.”

Lydia shoved the recorder back at him, anger shaking through her hands. “Tell us what they want,” she snapped. “What are they trying to do?”

Valack smiled faintly. “Read the book,” he repeated. “Anyone who’s come into contact with them. Anyone they’ve touched.”

“Lydia-we need to go,” Ren said urgently, already pulling at her arm as Stiles moved to her other side.

“Read the book!” Valack shouted after them, his voice rising unnaturally, echoing down the corridor.

They ran.

Footsteps pounded against the floor as the lights overhead flickered, buzzing louder, the hallway stretching and bending in ways that made Silver’s skin prickle. Valack’s voice chased them, fractured and layered, like it was coming from inside Silver’s head.

“Read the book!”

They made it a few doors down before Stiles yanked Lydia and Ren into an empty room, slamming the door shut.

Silver slowed.

Not because he was scared.

Because he felt it.

He stopped in the middle of the hallway, breath steady, heart calm in a way that didn’t make sense. The air had changed-thick, charged, familiar. His wrapped hand burned faintly beneath the bandages, not pain exactly.

He didn’t reach for a weapon.
He didn’t say a word.

They didn’t hesitate.

The first one crossed the distance in seconds.

A gloved hand slammed into Silver’s shoulder, driving him hard into the wall. The impact knocked the air from his lungs, a sharp grunt tearing free as pain shot down his arm. He stayed upright, teeth clenched, vision flashing white at the edges.

The second was already there.

A precise sting at his neck-clean, practiced. A needle.

Silver hissed as heat flooded his veins, spreading fast and heavy. The hallway warped, lights bending, the world tilting sideways. He reacted on instinct, shoving back, elbow cracking into a solid chest.

It barely moved.

The third Doctor caught him as his knees finally gave out, grip firm and controlled-steady hands treating him less like a threat and more like fragile equipment mid – transport.

Silver fought to stay conscious, breath shallow, jaw locked tight against the pull dragging him under.

One of them leaned closer, voice low and mechanical.

“Procedure initiated.”

Another voice layered over it, detached and clinical.

“Subject compliant.”

A final word followed, almost satisfied.

“Success.”

Silver’s strength drained all at once. The floor rushed up to meet him-then they disappeared entirely as the hallway dissolved into darkness.