“What?!”
Scott’s voice exploded in the room, his eyes wide with shock, as if the word itself made no sense.
Stiles didn’t smile this time…
He wasn’t joking.
“Matt said she said it herself… before she passed out.”
Scott kept staring at him, his breathing still uneven, his chest rising and falling violently, as if his body hadn’t decided yet whether it had finished transforming… or not.
“Vampire…” he muttered slowly.
Then he suddenly shook his head: “No. No, that’s impossible.”
Stiles raised his eyebrows quickly: “Oh, really? Because turning into a raging monster five minutes ago was totally logical?”
Scott didn’t respond.
His fist clenched tightly, his eyes dropping for a moment, as if reality had suddenly become too heavy.
“This is… a lot…” he said in a low voice.
Stiles ran a hand through his hair nervously: “I know, I know, trust me! I’m barely processing the fact that you’re a werewolf… and now—”
He gestured in the air: “—there might be a vampire running around attacking people?!”
Silence fell.
But this time… it wasn’t just the silence of shock.
It was the silence of realization.
Scott slowly lifted his head, looking at Stiles with a different look… deeper.
“If this is true…” he said quietly,
“then what happened to Vicky… wasn’t random.”
Stiles stopped moving.
“You mean—?”
“I mean…” Scott cut him off, his voice sharper,
“there’s something out there… something that knows exactly what it’s doing.”
A moment.
Then he added, in a lower tone:
“And the same thing applies to me.”
Stiles looked at him in silence.
Scott swallowed, then continued: “I wasn’t just attacking Jackson…”
He looked down, his voice dropping even more: “I was enjoying the power.”
Silence dropped like a heavy blow.
Stiles didn’t joke this time…
He didn’t try to lighten the mood.
He just said quietly: “Okay… that’s new and very terrifying.”
Scott let out a tired breath, then ran a hand over his face: “I lost control, Stiles… completely.”
Stiles stepped closer, despite everything: “But you stopped.”
Scott looked up at him.
“You’re still the one who came back.”
A short silence.
Then Stiles added, a little lighter: “Even if you needed a fire extinguisher to help you.”
Scott didn’t laugh…
But the corner of his mouth moved slightly.
For the first time in minutes…
He didn’t look like a monster.
[Meanwhile, at Mystic Hills General Hospital.]
A cold white light filled the room…
The heart monitor beeped steadily: Beep… beep… beep…
Vicky was still…
Then suddenly—
She gasped violently.
Her eyes shot open, terrified, her breathing uneven as if she were running from something still chasing her.
“No—!”
Matt jumped from his chair immediately.
“Vicky! Vic—I’m here! It’s me, Matt!”
But she didn’t see him.
“No! No! Stay away! No—no!!”
She began backing away, her hands trembling.
“Nurse!” Matt shouted as he rushed to the door.
“Nurse! Hurry!”
He ran out—
…and closed the door behind him.
Silence fell.
One second… two…
Then the door slowly opened.
Stefan entered.
His steps were quiet… measured.
He closed the door silently.
Vicky was breathing hard… then she lifted her eyes to him.
She froze.
Something about his presence…
Forced her into stillness.
He approached slowly.
“Calm down.”
His voice was low… but heavy.
Her breathing began to slow against her will.
He sat in front of her, very close.
“Look at me.”
Her eyes met his—
And in that moment…
Stefan’s pupils sharply contracted…
Then settled, his gaze becoming deep… mesmerizing… impossible to escape.
Vicky blinked once…
Then froze.
As if the world disappeared.
His voice became softer… and more controlling:
“It was… an animal.”
Silence.
“An animal came out of the darkness… and attacked you.”
Her lips moved slowly:
“An animal… attacked me…”
“Yes.” he said firmly.
He leaned closer… his eyes never leaving hers:
“And you passed out.”
“I passed… out…”
“And that… is all you remember.”
“That… is all I remember…”
A brief moment.
Then he added, in a lower tone… as if sealing her mind:
“And now… you will sleep.”
She blinked slowly.
“I will sleep…”
“You will sleep deeply.”
“And when you wake up… you will be fine.”
Her breathing slowed…
Heavier…
Her body gradually relaxed…
Then her head fell onto the pillow.
Asleep.
Peaceful… in a disturbing way.
Stefan kept watching her for a second…
Making sure.
Then he stood up immediately.
And at that same moment—
The sound of footsteps approaching in the hallway.
“Nurse! I need help! It’s my sister!”
Stefan quietly opened the door and stepped out…
Passing by Matt and the nurse without drawing attention.
The nurse rushed inside.
“She looks fine.”
Matt looked at his sleeping sister in confusion, then frowned slightly.
He looked behind him…
Toward the hallway Stefan had come from.
“Wait…”
Something wasn’t right.
He quickly said to the nurse: “I’ll be right back.”
Then he stepped out.
The hallway was almost empty…
Fluorescent lights flickering faintly.
Matt walked with hesitant steps…
Looking around.
Then he spotted a door at the end…
Slightly open.
He pushed it.
The air was cold.
A faint metallic smell filled the place.
Blood bags hanging… swaying slowly.
Drip… drip…
Matt stepped inside slowly.
“Hello?”
No response.
Another step…
Then—
A faint sound… behind him.
He turned quickly.
No one.
But behind one of the side walls—
Stefan was standing.
His back against the wall…
Eyes closed…
Breathing slowly… trying to control himself.
His face began to change—
Dark veins appeared around his eyes…
His pupils turned black, and the whites of his eyes turned a bloody red…
Stefan cursed himself for entering the blood draw room.
The pulse of the blood in the room… was too loud.
His hand trembled.
“No…” he whispered to himself.
He clenched his teeth hard—
Then suddenly opened his eyes…
They returned to normal.
Stefan exhaled in relief, then looked at the hospital window, vanished in a blur of speed, and jumped out of it.
“Hello? Is someone here?”
Matt said in confusion as he stepped deeper into the room, looking around.
Empty.
Only the blood bags…
Swaying slowly.
Matt felt a chill run through his body.
“Okay… that’s weird.”
He could’ve sworn he saw Stefan in the hallway.
Matt sighed, then left the room, but the doubt remained in his eyes.
[Meanwhile with Scott.]
Scott sat on the stone benches in the school courtyard, thinking about his friend’s words in shock.
Then he looked up and saw Allison heading toward the parking lot.
Scott smiled happily, stood up immediately, and walked toward her.
“Allison, wait a second!”
Scott shouted and rushed toward her.
Allison frowned and turned to him.
Scott stopped in front of her, silent for a moment…
Trying to arrange the words in his head.
But nothing seemed enough.
He sighed quietly, then finally said:
“I’m… sorry.”
Allison didn’t interrupt him.
She just looked at him… waiting.
Scott lowered his gaze for a moment, then continued:
“About the party… about leaving you suddenly.”
He paused, then added more honestly:
“About everything.”
A short silence.
Then he looked at her again, this time steady:
“I shouldn’t have left you there.”
Allison tilted her head slightly, watching him…
As if reading between the lines.
“Why did you do that, Scott?” she asked calmly.
Scott swallowed, his voice lowered:
“I… I got a little stressed and freaked out.”
Allison looked at him coldly for a few moments, then sighed when she remembered Elena’s words and said:
“Scott…”
But Scott shook his head lightly, as if stopping her from saying anything:
“I know I acted weird… and maybe I can’t explain everything right now.”
He took a deep breath, then said:
“But… it had nothing to do with you.”
Silence.
Then a small step forward.
“Allison…”
His voice was softer… more sincere:
“Can you give me another chance?”
A moment of stillness.
The air moved slowly between them…
Allison looked at him for a few seconds…
Then smiled a light, warm smile.
“I thought you wouldn’t ask.”
Scott blinked, as if the words didn’t reach him immediately.
“You mean…?”
She smiled more:
“I mean… yes.”
Something inside his chest suddenly eased.
He breathed normally.
He chuckled lightly, then said:
“Okay… that’s good… because—”
He hesitated for a second, then continued quickly:
“There’s… a visible full moon tonight. Or tomorrow actually… a clear full night.”
He raised an eyebrow slightly:
“I thought… maybe we could watch it together?”
Allison looked up for a moment…
Then back at him with a wider smile:
“A date under the stars?”
“I’m trying to be creative,” he said with a shy smile.
She laughed softly:
“I like the idea.”
Then nodded:
“Tomorrow.”
Scott smiled.
A real smile this time.
But—
The sound of a car engine cut the moment.
Allison turned toward the parking lot.
A car stopped slowly.
Her expression changed slightly.
“Looks like I have to go.”
Then she looked at Scott:
“That’s my dad’s car.”
Scott nodded, still smiling:
“Okay… see you tomorrow.”
Allison smiled, then stepped back:
“Tomorrow.”
She turned… and walked toward the car.
Scott stayed standing, watching her…
The smile still on his face.
Something warm… light…
For the first time since last night.
Then the car door opened.
And Allison’s father stepped out calmly.
Tall… steady… his presence sharp like a blade.
Scott didn’t care at first…
Until—
The man raised his head.
Their eyes met.
…
Scott froze in place.
The smile on his face… vanished.
The image hit his mind like a violent flash—
Night.
Trees.
A bowstring being pulled slowly.
Cold eyes… focused on him.
Then—
Release.
Scott felt the pain return… as if it never left.
“It’s him…”
“It’s the same one…”
His breathing became heavy… uneven.
But—
The man didn’t move.
Didn’t show shock…
Didn’t raise a weapon…
Didn’t say anything.
He just… looked at him.
A short… steady look.
Then narrowed his eyes slightly.
As if trying to remember something…
Something close… but slipping.
“I’ve seen this face…”
But where?
When?
Chris Argent thought to himself with a frown.
A moment passed.
Then—
Allison reached him, smiling naturally:
“Dad.”
The voice broke the tension.
The man immediately turned to her, his features softening.
“How was practice?” he asked calmly.
“It was good,” she answered with a smile.
Then lightly gestured toward Scott:
“This is Scott.”
Scott felt his body stiffen more.
But—
He forced himself to stand.
To breathe.
To look… normal.
He extended his hand slightly:
“Hello, sir.”
The man looked at his hand…
Then at him.
He shook it.
A strong… steady grip.
His eyes never left Scott.
“Hello, Scott.”
His voice was calm… but there was something in it.
He paused for a fraction of a second, then said:
“Have we met before?”
Scott’s heart dropped.
But his face didn’t move.
“I don’t think so,” he said calmly… with difficulty.
The man kept looking at him for another second…
Then nodded slightly.
“Hmm.”
He let go of his hand.
But the feeling didn’t go away.
That strange feeling…
That something didn’t fit.
Allison didn’t notice.
“We should go,” she said as she opened the car door.
Then looked at Scott smiling:
“Tomorrow.”
Scott nodded.
“Tomorrow.”
She closed the door.
The car moved slowly.
Scott remained standing.
Didn’t move.
Didn’t breathe deeply until the car disappeared from view.
Then—
His expression slowly dropped.
The calm… vanished.
“Her father…”
He let out a light laugh… an empty laugh.
“Her father is the one who tried to kill me.”
He ran a hand over his face tiredly.
“I fell into the worst possible scenario.”
He looked toward the road where the car disappeared.
And his heart… didn’t calm down.
[From Chris Argent’s point of view]
The engine hummed quietly…
And the road stretched ahead of me under the faint light of sunset.
I drove.
Calmly.
As I always do.
But my mind… wasn’t calm.
Allison sat beside me, looking out the window.
I could see the reflection of her smile on the glass.
A faint smile… genuine.
That alone was enough to make me more cautious.
Our silence lasted a bit longer.
But I couldn’t take it anymore.
“Who is that boy?”
I finally said it.
In a normal voice.
Calm.
As if I hadn’t been thinking about it since the moment I saw him.
She turned slightly toward me.
I noticed that from the corner of my eye.
“Scott. In my class.”
Scott.
The name passed through my mind…
But the feeling was what remained.
I nodded without looking at her.
“Since when have you known him?”
“For a short while,” she said simply.
Then she smiled…
“But he’s nice.”
…Nice.
I repeated the word inside.
Then, out loud, slowly:
“Nice.”
As if I were testing it.
As if I were weighing it.
She furrowed her brows.
I felt her gaze on me.
“What’s the problem?”
I finally looked at her.
A quick look.
Measured.
“Nothing.”
Then I returned to the road.
But the truth?
It wasn’t “nothing.”
The silence that followed…
Wasn’t comfortable.
“Are you interrogating me?” she said lightly.
As if she were joking.
But I didn’t smile.
“Just asking.”
And that wasn’t a lie.
But it wasn’t the whole truth either.
She sighed.
Then turned more toward me.
“Look, he’s just a boy.”
…Just a boy.
“Is he?”
It came out faster than I intended.
Faster… and more honest.
She went quiet for a moment.
“…Yes?”
I tightened my grip on the steering wheel slightly.
Because I was seeing something else.
A face.
Features.
A feeling… that doesn’t fade easily.
“There’s something strange about him.”
I finally said it.
She raised an eyebrow.
“Strange how?”
I paused for a second.
Because I didn’t have a clear answer.
And that was worse.
“I don’t know.”
Then I added, focusing on the road:
“But I’ve seen him before.”
I felt a slight shift in the air.
“Where?”
A direct question.
And a silence… longer than it should be.
I searched my memory.
Faces.
Nights.
Shadows.
…Nothing clear.
“I don’t remember.”
But even I… didn’t fully believe it.
She looked at me for a few seconds.
Then said:
“You’re overthinking.”
This time… I smiled.
A very faint smile.
Calculated.
“Maybe.”
Silence.
But the real question hadn’t been asked yet.
“Are you going out with him?”
She hesitated for a second.
A small moment… but enough.
“Tomorrow.”
I nodded slowly.
I knew.
Or maybe I expected it.
“Where?”
She sighed.
“Why?”
I looked at the road.
But my tone was clear:
“Because I’ll be driving you.”
It wasn’t an offer.
It was a decision.
“Dad…”
“Nine p.m.,” I cut her off calmly.
“Don’t be late.”
She looked at me…
Then laughed lightly.
“Okay.”
Silence returned.
But this time… heavier.
I kept my eyes on the road.
But my mind—
Wasn’t here.
It was there.
With that boy.
Scott.
The image kept repeating.
The same feeling.
The same mistake I couldn’t define.
I don’t forget faces.
Ever.
“I’ve seen this boy…”
The thought rooted itself deeper.
“But where?”
I tightened my grip on the wheel more.
And my eyes narrowed…
Instinct doesn’t lie.
Even if the explanation comes late.
[End of POV]
The cold air in the parking lot lashed against Scott’s face, and the fading sunlight cast long shadows across the asphalt.
Scott stood still, staring into nothingness, his mind overwhelmed with the terrifying events he had just discovered.
His heart was tangled between fear, guilt, and shock.
Stiles approached him cautiously, searching for the right words:
“Scott, I saw you talking to Allison… did you apologize to her?”
Scott nodded weakly, his voice faint:
“Yes…”
Stiles didn’t buy the short answer.
He looked at him with eyes full of doubt and concern, trying to read what was behind that silence:
“Did you get a second chance, or what?”
Scott didn’t answer, just nodded again, his mind clouded, as if everything inside him was collapsing.
“Great…” Stiles said with faint enthusiasm, trying to bring some encouragement, “so everything’s okay?”
Scott turned his face weakly, his voice sounding like he didn’t believe it himself:
“No…”
Stiles frowned slightly:
“No…?”
Scott tried to pull himself out of his daze, words rushing out:
“Do you remember… the hunters I told you about?”
Stiles frowned and said slowly, “Yeah… yeah, I remember them.”
Scott continued, his lips trembling:
“Her father is one of them.”
Stiles stopped breathing for a moment.
“Her father?”
Scott continued absentmindedly:
“He shot me.”
Stiles shouted, “Wait, Scott! When you say her father, do you mean Allison’s father?!”
Scott ignored him—or simply didn’t hear him—and said in a flat tone:
“With a crossbow… he shot me with a crossbow…”
Stiles trembled and jumped in front of him:
“Scott! Do you mean Allison’s father or not?!”
Scott shook, his eyes widening, then suddenly shouted:
“Yes! Her father!”
Stiles went silent, staring at Scott in shock.
Scott’s body trembled, panic spreading across his face, as if all the blood in his body had frozen.
His fingers shook, his heart pounding wildly.
“Oh my God… Allison’s father is a hunter! What if… what if… he kills me!”
Stiles reached out, placing a hand lightly on Scott’s shoulder, his voice steady despite the tension:
“No, Scott… focus… come back to yourself… everything’s going to be okay, do you hear me?”
Scott took a deep breath, trying to regain balance, but he couldn’t stop thinking about what happened—the repeating image of the arrow, the crossbow, the deadly danger…
After a moment, Stiles said in a calm but firm voice:
“Are you okay?”
Scott nodded.
Stiles let out a small sigh of relief, but realized the shock hadn’t fully left him:
“Wait… everything’s fine? He didn’t recognize you, right?”
Scott thought for a moment before answering in a low, hesitant voice:
“No… I don’t think so…”
Stiles continued patiently:
“And does Allison know about her father’s job?”
Scott closed his eyes for a moment, trying to recall every detail of his time with Allison:
“Oh God… I don’t know! What if she finds out about me and tries to kill me?! And this guy will definitely kill me, Stiles, if he knows I’m trying to date his daughter!”
The words suddenly stopped.
A heavy silence filled the place.
Scott stood frozen, staring at the place where Allison and her father had left, his heart still suffocating with fear, and everything felt as if it had slowed down.
Stiles placed his hand on Scott’s shoulder, trying to reassure him:
“Listen to me, Scott… I’m here. I won’t let you face anything alone. Everything that happened… doesn’t mean you’re weak, and it doesn’t mean you’re a monster. You’re okay now, everything will be under control.”
Scott looked at Stiles with eyes that still carried shock, and he began to feel a bit of relief, even though he couldn’t completely get rid of the fear.
“Come on, I’ll take you home…” Stiles said with a light smile, trying to ease the tension, “you won’t be alone.”
Scott sat beside Stiles in the Jeep, still looking at the road stretching ahead of them, while the long shadows of the sun covered the parking lot behind them.
“Sometimes, even the hardest moments become less scary when you know someone is beside you…” Stiles whispered, as if reading Scott’s inner fears.
Scott nodded gently, a sense of comfort slowly starting to creep in, but he knew that this day would remain carved into his memory, and that Allison’s father, that mysterious and familiar man, would continue to haunt him in his dreams and in every quick glance toward the coming danger.
[Meanwhile with Stefan]
The light of the sunset seeped through the high windows, drawing faint orange and green lines across the dusty walls.
The atmosphere was quiet, but it was a charged silence… as if the air itself feared movement.
Stefan stood in the corner of the room, his eyes sharp, watching every movement.
Damon entered from the opposite door, his heavy steps echoing across the wooden floor, a malicious smile decorating his face.
Damon smiled and said, “You look tired, did you exhaust yourself today? Let me guess… hospital.”
Stefan raised an eyebrow, straightened his back, his voice calm:
“Someone had to clean up your mess.”
Damon smiled with a harsh grin, stepping closer:
“Well, did it work? Did the compulsion work? Remember, if you don’t feed properly, none of those little tricks will work.”
Stefan replied coldly, his eyes glinting like silver in the dim light:
“How long are you going to stay here?”
Damon shrugged:
“Long enough to bring down an indescribable torment upon you.”
Stefan frowned in anger and said:
“What do you want, Damon? Why did you come back to Mystic Hills after all this time?”
Damon laughed lightly, with a tone of poisonous sarcasm:
“Mmm, I don’t know… maybe to feed on your new girlfriend?”
Stefan narrowed his eyes, looking at Damon with focus and quiet anger:
“Stay away from her, Damon.”
Damon stepped closer coldly, his face near Stefan’s, his voice low but filled with threat:
“Tell me, Stefan… does Elena looking like Katherine have anything to do with why you’re interested in her?”
Stefan took a deep breath, trying to calm his voice, but boiling inside:
“Elena is not Katherine. She’s the opposite of what Katherine was.”
Damon stepped back slightly, laughing coldly, running his fingers across the wooden table in front of him:
“Are you worried, Stefan? Afraid we’re doomed to repeat the past? Isn’t that why you’re playing your little game… ‘I’m a human in high school’?”
Stefan glared at Damon sharply, his hair moving slightly from a faint breeze coming through the broken window:
“I’m not playing any game.”
Damon laughed softly, as if enjoying every word:
“Of course you are. We both know the closest you’ll get to humanity is when you tear it apart and feed on it.”
Stefan said, while trying to control his anger:
“What kind of game are you playing, Damon?”
Damon smiled a deadly smile and said:
“I guess you’ll have to wait… and see, right?”
Stefan breathed slowly, trying to control the tension, but he felt a chill run through his body.
Damon stepped back once, leaving the room colder, as if the air had become heavier.
Silence returned…
But Stefan’s heart was beating fast… because he knew Damon had no good intentions, and that he would always come back, in ways that couldn’t be predicted.
Scott lay on his bed and sighed in exhaustion from the day’s events.
Ring… ring…
The sound of a video chat notification on his laptop caught his attention.
He got up and sat at his desk, his body exhausted, his eyes heavy with fatigue, but the ringing forced him to focus.
He pressed the call button immediately, and Stiles’ face appeared on the screen.
Pew!!
Pew!
Pew!
All Scott heard was the sound of a toy gun firing, and all he saw was a red light from the toy gun aimed directly at his camera.
Then Stiles’ smiling face appeared.
“Hey Scott! How are you?” Stiles said with a sarcastic smile, waving at the camera.
Scott smiled warmly and said, “I’m fine, Stiles, thanks for asking.”
“Well, good to know that, considering all the werewolf stuff happening to you lately,” Stiles said sarcastically.
Scott sighed helplessly at his friend’s words, then focused on the serious matter:
“Okay, Stiles, what did you find?”
“Well… it’s really bad. Jackson’s shoulder is dislocated and his arm is broken.”
Scott felt a lump in his chest, and a heavy wave of guilt drowning him.
His head lowered, his eyes staring at the screen blankly, as if he were seeing everything that happened on the field again.
Scott asked quietly:
“Because of me?”
Stiles smirked sarcastically:
“No, because he’s an idiot… but don’t make yourself more of a monster than you already think, Scott, you didn’t mean it.”
Scott sighed sadly:
“This… means he won’t be able to play, right?”
Stiles nodded:
“Yeah, Scott. Jackson won’t play in the next game, and you’ll take his place as running back. Now the whole team depends on you in the Lacrosse game, but the only good news is the game got postponed from Monday to Tuesday because the opposing team is late… so maybe you can learn to control yourself until then?”
Scott exhaled in frustration:
“And how am I supposed to do that, Stiles?”
Stiles scratched the back of his head:
“I’m still working on figuring that out.”
Scott sighed deeply, feeling a huge internal conflict, torn between his desire to be the star player he had always dreamed of, and the fear of hurting someone else.
He felt guilt eating him from the inside, pressing on his chest like a stone.
On the screen, Stiles leaned forward, his eyes peering through the camera into Scott’s face, trying to read his thoughts, which made Scott frown and feel increasing pressure.
Scott frowned and said:
“What?”
Suddenly, Stiles’ eyes widened in fear and panic—
But the connection began glitching.
The image froze suddenly, leaving Scott confused.
He tried to hear anything, but heard nothing.
After a moment, Stiles started typing in the chat window:
Stiles: “There’s someone behind you.”
Scott shivered, his heart almost stopping.
He whispered:
“What?”
He leaned closer to the screen, trying to see better—
But he wasn’t ready for what he saw.
There, standing behind him…
Derek Hale was staring at him intensely, his eyes filled with anger and warning.
In a blink, Scott felt Derek’s hand grab the back of his shirt, and his body was yanked forward—
Before he found himself slammed against the wall, pinned by Derek.
BAM!!
The sound of Scott’s body hitting the wall echoed.
Derek moved closer, and Scott felt his breath over him.
Derek growled mercilessly:
“I saw you on the field!”
Scott trembled in fear:
“W-what?… what are you talking about?”
Derek said with deep anger:
“You shifted in front of them! If they find out what you are, they’ll find out about me—about all of us. And then it won’t just be hunters… everyone will try to kill us!”
Scott panicked, his breathing speeding up, his heart about to explode.
He shouted hysterically:
“They didn’t see anything! I swear, I—”
Derek cut him off sharply:
“And they won’t! If you even try to play in that game on Tuesday, I will kill you myself!”
Derek shouted the last part in rage and shoved Scott harder against the wall, then let go and disappeared in a blur of speed.
Scott stumbled and fell onto his bed, gasping, his face drenched in sweat, his hands trembling from both fear and anger.
He turned to look around—
No sign of Derek.
But his window was wide open… confirming how he came and left.
Scott sat on the edge of his bed, holding his head in his hands, hitting his knee with his fist, feeling frustration and anger.
The Lacrosse game he had dreamed of his whole life had become a deadly burden, and any wrong move could cost him his life.
“How… how did my life turn like this…?”
Scott whispered to himself in fear—
And tears began to fall from his eyes in deep sadness.