Walking in the dead of night, he was attentive to every noise, every crick and crack and every quivering leaf. Best be mindful, best be acute, when one walked out way past twilight, under the murky skies.

Yet, and with that in mind Derek knew he was believably marching straight into a trap. Into her trap, Jennifer Blake, a real nasty woman she was, if one could call her a woman at all, not after the monstrosities she'd committed.

He couldn't settle on the idea of knowing she was roaming his town freely, alive. No, the cold sheets on that hospital bed burned his skin, the moment he heard her name from Lydia's lips. Still usure of what the whole picture or map looked like, not sure where he was precisely supposed to go, but he thought, he believed he should head to where Jennifer Blake's entire chapter began.

The reasons that pushed her to go from Julia Beccari, an average emissary to... Well, her, to Jennifer Blake the darak.

That sound on his left? The deep but soft hooting of an owl, probably calling out for a potential mate. To his right? Nothing more than the whistling of winds through the dense forest. Nothing to ruffle his feathers about, so he kept flashing his eyes forward and put one foot in front of another. As he drew closer to his destination, his focus fell back on her, on how he didn't even want to imagine what she was plotting but, really had no choice about it.

He had to face her anyhow, he thought that if anyone should do it, it was him. Derek broke his motion pattern once he saw that building in his prospect. The distillery he used to often frequent in his youth. He stood for a moment, just taking that still image in, wondering what he hoped to accomplish there after reaching that place.

His eyes then drifted from the highest point of that old construction, down towards a distinct marking on one of the walls. It was a symbol, The sign for vendetta known amongst werewolves. Anas had carved it there in a fit of rage, on the day of his last meeting with the other alphas of Beacon Hills. Peter had witnessed the entire scene. That gathering was in many ways the kickstarter of... Many unfortunate turns of events.

It still reeked with the foul stench of blood; Derek noted upon entering the abandoned establishment. But, against all odds, it wasn't the memories of all and every violent occurrence that he had to face in that place that came forth to the surface, it was the gentle and sweet sound of music he could never forget, no matter how hard he could try, not that he ever tried to though. The beautiful notes played by his first love, Paige.

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She brought to life some magnificent pieces with the power of her gifted hands. Paige was the only girl to have ever, truly loved him. She definitely was, considering his luck with women after her. Even in her last moments, she made sure to let him know how much she loved him, for who and what he really was. She assured him she wasn't taking any grudges with her to the afterlife, towards him for the part he played in her end, at such a young age.

"You're gonna make me jealous, Derek," at the sound of her cursed voice, he immediately shut his eyes, then pinched the bridge of his nose to stop two little tear drops from escaping, "How long has it really been?"

"Not long enough," he barked back.

"So, you didn't miss me? Is that what you're saying, Derek?" she mocked.

"Who in their right mind would miss someone like you?"

"You have the gall to be speaking like that! After you just stood there and watched them kill me?!" Jennifer sounded more aggressive when she uttered those words.

"You weren't exactly innocent yourself," he retorted.

"I did what I needed to do to survive, just like everyone else," she had recovered her calm tone.

"No! no, you did survive, that was not the problem, it's what you did after surviving that is the problem,"

"By the way, why are you keeping your eyes shut? Were you so disgusted by the sight of my slashed face, that you don't want to take the risk of seeing it again?"

Derek didn't even realize it until she pointed it out, except, she got the reason for him closing his eyes wrong. He guessed it was just a reflex, after the anuk-ite used her voice to trick him. Unlike what she assumed, he never thought much of her damaged face. He never even really had the time to, those superficial thoughts were always immediately overshadowed by her disgusting actions, "You ever wonder, about what could have happened if you just came back to Beacon Hills, and didn't go about your revenge the way you did?" he'd loosened the tension around his eyelids when he said that, but he still kept them closed.

"Because you think I would have gotten your attention without the power that the first sacrifice gave me?"

"Really, Jennifer? Should I remind you of the day we met, and the reason things happened the way they did?" he hated to admit it, but his voice did soften when he spoke that last sentence.

"Yeah... You could remind me of that but, why don't you take a look at me first?" she sounded little and brittle at those words.

Derek decided to grant her that wish, if it was ever her last. He slowly forsook the darkness behind him and accepted the colors of the world around him again. First, he saw her feet, then her legs...Her waist, her chest then finally, her face, and the smile she displayed seemed too genuine for someone with a tainted soul such as hers.