There was something evil about Canaan — we had gathered that much.

I mean, I would consider myself a fan of our resident quirky sidekick, but my appreciation of him was rapidly declining.

After shaking Scott from his own hallucination — which included his mother from what I had gathered, Lydia makes a firm declaration that things in Canaan really are messing with our minds.

"The energy here—it's causing hallucinations," she says. "We can't stay here."

"We can't leave," Scott replies. "Not before we find out why Stiles sent us here."

"And who are we going to ask?" I say, throwing my hands up in frustration. "There's no one here."

"We can ask him," Malia pipes up suddenly, and points.

I follow the direction of her finger and, there, standing in front of one out of the hundreds of derelict houses here, stands a little boy.

I'd never been a big fan of horror movies, but from the ones I'd seen, I'd seen enough to know that a weird little boy plus a creepy house equals a very bad ending.

"Hey!" Scott hollers at him.

The little boy takes a quick look in our direction before jolting up the street. "What do we do?" Lydia urges.

"Go after him!" Scott replies.

And we do maybe the stupidest thing we can: we go after him. Not surprisingly, our small lapse of concentration costs us, and soon after we lose him. We wander the streets slowly, looking for any sign of the weird little weasel that was staring at the house.

A small brushing sound attracts our attention. I turn around only to see a curtain ruffle in a window. Scott looks at us for an answer, before wordlessly beginning up the path to the house.

Scott pushes open the door and I feel my blood go cold for no particular reason other than the sheer fact that something felt off. The house itself was typical of a house decorated in the 1980s.

Lydia knocks on the open door. "Hello?" she calls. As we venture a bit further into the house, she says, "Anyone here?"

There's a momentary silence, and when I hear a lady's voice I jump. "Visitors!" she says excitedly. "I can't believe we have visitors."

Kai nudges me. "I'm beginning to think I should've stayed in Beacon Hills," he mutters. I nod absentmindedly as the woman charges happily towards us. She's a middle aged woman with a wide, almost creepy smile.

"Caleb would be so happy to see you!" she grins. "It's been so long since he had anyone to play with!"

Not creepy at all. Again.

"Oh, you must be thirsty," she continues. "Come in and sit down while I get you something to drink."

"Seriously, what is with her?" Malia whispers.

Lydia draws a breath in, her posture tense. "She's the one I saw in the mirror," she breathes back.

We sit down hesitantly and I clasp my hands together in front of me. When she leaves, I raise my eyebrows at the others. "What are we still doing in the creepy lady's house?" I whisper-yell.

Lydia clears her throat. "Arden, we need to get Stiles back," she says levelly.

The lady comes back in shortly after, holding a tray of tall glasses filled with cloudy yellow liquid. "This is my mother's lemonade recipe," she announces. "We always served this when we had friends over for a visit." When she sets down a glass in front of me, I can see specks of dirt through the murky liquid. Malia, being Malia, chugs the drink down.

She sets the cup down and says, "We didn't come to visit. We're looking for someone."

"A friend of ours," Scott adds. "Maybe you've seen him. His name is Stiles."

The lady presses her lips together firmly. "It's been a while since anyone came through Canaan."

"How long?" Lydia asks.

Malia reaches into her pocket and unravels a crumpled piece of paper. I realise it's a receipt. "Since April 8th, 1987?" she asks. That explains the house and the clothes.

The woman's face twists into something of severe disgust and contempt. "Why would you disturb those things?" she growls. "They don't belong to you."

I lean back in my chair, grinning. "And those people are dead. What are they gonna do? Strike us down?"

"Arden," Lydia warns.

"We need to find out what happened," Scott says.

"There was a picnic," she says. "A community party."

"Seems like everyone left in a hurry," Malia contributes.

"People had been leaving Canaan for a long time," the woman announces. "That was the day the last of them left."

"All at once?" Scott asks. "They all just disappeared?"

The lady grits her teeth angrily. "I didn't say they disappeared," she protests. "I said they left!" The table wobbles slightly and I widen my eyes. She's insane. Literally insane.

"Did they leave in a cloud of green smoke?" Malia asks softly.

The lady stands up and grips the table. "They just left!" she screams.

I jump back. "Sweet mother of Jesus," I mutter.

Lydia recovers almost instantaneously and says calmly, "We didn't mean to upset you. We'll go now."

I didn't need to be told twice. I stood up, moving faster than I had in a while and followed Malia towards the door.

And then the door shuts.

"No one is leaving," the woman says. "No one is leaving Canaan ever again."

I bury my face in my hands. "Oh, fuck me," I groan.

"Gladly," Kai says.

"Fuck off," I retort. I turn my attention to the woman. "Look, Demon Woman. I don't know who you are or what you want, but we don't want any trouble. We just want to leave."

Scott lunges towards the door, trying desperately to open the door. "Scott, open the door," Malia urges. "You're a werewolf!"

Malia promptly stomps over to the window and slams her fist into the window several times. The slivers of broken glass that should be remaining are instead replaced by a clear, solid window pane.

"What the hell's wrong with this place?" she demands.

"Lenore," Lydia pleads. "Can you unlock the door please?"

"Now that you're here," Lenore says. "You need to stay. Caleb likes you."

Lydia begins towards her. "And we like him," she says, her voice controlled. "But we need to help our town. People are disappearing, I mean th-they...You could really help us."

"Nobody can help you. If they want to leave, they'll leave," Lenore says. "They'll go and they'll go, and there won't be anything you can do about it."

I spot Caleb standing the doorway. "Come with me," he says.

We look at Lydia for assistance. "Go," she mouths.

I force my legs to move after the others. We follow the little boy into a room at the end of the hall. When Scott pushes it open, the little boy stands motionless in front of a television. The television plays nothing but static. The room is dim and cold.

When Scott walks down the stairs, I hear a splash and realise that the floor is covered in water. The dirty, cold water swallows my ankle boots when I step into it.

Scott rushes over to a high window and tries to unlatch it, but to no avail.

"Caleb," he says. "Can you help us find a way out?"

He walks over to the television and grabs a VCR out of the shelf under the television. He pushes it in and the screen sparks to life, a home video of Caleb himself playing out on the television.

"You have to stay because mommy said so," he says.

I swallow, and I feel my entire body shiver down to the marrow of my bones.

"We can't stay," Scott says. "We have to go home."

The boy's voice warps into something low and staticky and I can't help but let my mouth drop slightly open in fear. "This is home," he roars.

The door slams shut.

I jump as Malia summons us over quietly. "Look at the date," she whispers.

It's August 12th, 1985. Two years before the incident at the community picnic.

"Uh, Caleb," Malia begins. "Do you know what year you were born?"

He stands up, water dripping from his golden hair and shirt. "1976," he says.

"And when did you die?" Scott asks.

Water begins to gush down the walls. A rocking horse rocks on its own in the corner. "Am I having another hallucination?" I ask, glancing around.

"If you're having a hallucination, I'm having the same one," Scott answers.

The floor is flooding quickly. A scream sounds from outside. Lydia's.

"We need to get out of here," Scott declares.

"I know you're not okay with beating an eight year old's ass, but I will," Malia says.

"I'm with you," I say. Malia makes a beeline towards the little boy, her heavy footsteps causing water to splash around the room.

She stops suddenly, collapsing to her knees. Her breath is laboured and raspy and she clutches at her throat. "You don't look so good," Caleb says. "Maybe you should sit down."

I rush over to her just as Scott does the same. "Malia, breathe," he says. He calls out for Lydia.

And then I feel the water come up. It cuts off my airways and I clutch at my throat, my eyes filling with tears. I feel my knees give way.

"You're drowning," the boy says. "Just like I did. Now we can be friends forever."

I grab the corner of a table, my vision drifting in and out of blackness. I shakily stand up, my only and last hope to kill the little boy. I can feel my throat burning, my body shaking. Just get to him. Just get to him and wrap your hands around his neck. Kill him. It will all be over.

But I'm too weak.

And then it stops. I gasp for air, my chest aching and my eyes raw.

"Mommy says you can go now," Caleb says. The door swings open. Lydia. She's always saving us.

We hurry out of the dark room and out of the house, where Lydia waits. "Let's get out of here," Scott says.

"Yeah," Malia agrees.

We watch as Lenore and Caleb stand under the doorway. "You know you can still come with us," Lydia says.

"I can't leave Caleb," the woman insists.

"Lenore," Lydia says softly. "You know he's not real."

Lenore pauses. "I couldn't leave him," she says.

And with that, we leave.

The drive home is long and silent — I don't think any of us want to talk a lot considering the trauma we'd just gone through. I kick off my shoes and cuddle up to my seat, even taking a short nap. I'm tired and I'm fidgety and I just want to get back to my home, give my mom a hug and go to sleep.

At one point, Scott says, "You guys think Stiles sent us here to warn us? That Beacon Hills can be the next ghost town?" I cover my mouth to yawn, my eyes closing involuntarily.

"If we don't stop it, yes," Malia says. "We need to get them out of there. Now."

"We can't," Lydia says, it's quiet and distant in my half-asleep state. "Not yet."

My phone pings, jolting me out of my almost slumber. "What is it?" Kai asks.

I rub my eyes, sliding my phone out of my faded black jeans. I squint at the screen.

Werebaby:

Meet us at Scott's house when u come back

"Liam texted me," I announce. "We have to meet him at Scott's house."

"Will do," Lydia says.

I text him back.

Roger that

"Why can't we get rid of them?" Scott interjects, clearly persistent on Lydia's answer.

"Because I've seen what happens to people when they leave," Lydia replies.

"Do they die?" Malia asks.

"No. It's something worse than death," Lydia says quietly. "It's like their soul is hollowed out. It's like they became something else. And now they're gone."

The car slows to a stop and I slide on my boots, ducking out of the car. I just want to get this done as soon as possible so I can go home and relax. I walk up the stairs to the front door, running a hand through my hair as I twist open the doorknob.

The house is quiet. I know something is off.

When I walk into the living room, it's not just Liam and Hayden. There's a third figure.

And even before he steps into the light, I can see the way he moves, the way he walks. The way he commands attention even when he hides in the shadows of a room.

My voice breaks. "Theo?"

His mouth turns up into a smile. "Hi, baby."