Layla tapped her fingers against her thigh as she sat on the pathetic excuse for a bed, the metal bedframe pressing against her spinal cord and shoulder blades.

She hadn't slept all night, unable to do so due to the sounds that echoed within Eichen House. The sound was enough to make anyone go mad. Every hour, every minute, every second was filled with pain filled screams and pleas to end the endless circle of agony. And finally when the screams died down to a dull moan, Layla was placed in an illusion that maybe there would be silence.

But that illusion was shattered when the screams were replaced by voices. Hundreds of them, all whispering different things. At first Layla thought the voices were in her head, it wouldn't be the first time. But as the hours ticked by she realised that the voices were coming from an outside source, a cell different from the one in her mind.

Although Layla longed for silence, she wondered if it would be just as excruciating. She would be left alone with her thoughts, and the voices in her head - or rather voice. Layla's thoughts wrapped around her like a blanket, suffocating her.

She thought about her father and Stiles, had they noticed she was no longer there? She thought about Natalie, that nieve and stupid woman, placing her trust in Eichen House,  that they would take care of her daughter and her daughter's best friend dispite having knowledge of what it had done prior.

Maybe Natalie simply didn't care, maybe she cared too much. Who knew. All Layla knew was that Natalie Martin wanted the world to be black and white rather than grey all over. She didn't want to believe that the monsters under beds were real, or that the beasts really did come out to play at night. She didn't want to believe that the children she had watched grow up now had glowing eyes and fangs. She didn't want to believe that her own daughter was a supernatural creature and that she was not insane.

And that was what made Natalie Martin so stupid.

And Layla hated her for it.

Layla hated that the woman refused to believe it when cold hard evidence was placed in front of her. Layla hated that she would place her daughter in this hell hole. Layla hated that she hadn't helped Tracey adequately dispite her having knowledge and supicions that others wouldn't.

And she hated that Natalie Martin took away her free will and shipped her off to the nut house. And honestly, it was ridiculous that she even had the power to do that.

So when Layla got out - if she got out - she would love nothing more than to rip out the woman's neck with her own canines. She would love for the woman to see her glowing violet eyes, to see the claws and to quiver in fear and drown in guilt.

But she would do none of them things. For Lydia she would not kill the woman she hated with such a burning passion. And while Layla may have hated Natalie for putting her in her current position, what really was the cause of that immense hatred was what a mother had done to her own child. What was happening to Lydia now was Natlie's fault, and that - that was something Layla would never forgive.

Alongside those thoughts that so often plagued Layla's mind there was the constant dull mumbling of the voice in her head. The voice was feminine, that much she knew. But it varied in its tone. Sometimes it spoke to Layla softly, the words echoing in her skull like she was being placed in a hypnotic trance.

Other times the voice spoke harshly, barking orders in such a fashion that Layla couldn't help but flinch.

She sometimes tried to communicate with the voice. Tried to find out who it was and why it was tormenting her. Of course, each time Layla recieved no answer. The sick thing was that she could almost feel the voice smirking. As though it revelled in her frustration. Maybe it did.

Layla also spent a lot of tine thinking about Theo. She knew that he wasn't the same brown haired boy who was her best friend as a child. He wasn't the person whom she ran to school to meet and he wasn't the boy whom she had spent an entire day crying over when he said that he was leaving in fourth grade.

If Theo wasn't that same person, then who had Layla fallen in love with? She has heard the phrase love blinds but she never thought to what extent.

All along Theo had his own agenda, all he wanted was to have his own pack. He never wanted Layla, maybe he never even loved her. Oh Layla bet he found that hilarious. He had made the stubborn and vicious Stilinski twin fall for him and within no time she was wrapped around his finger.

Really she should've noticed it earlier. But as she had said before, love blinds. She knew that when her father and Lydia was in hospital she was consumed by some . . . evil of some sorts. The posion seemed to course through her veins and she had put up little fight.

The things that she had said that day, how she had spoken to Stiles, how she acted about her father. How instead of being with her father she was off gallivanting with a vindictive, sociopathic little bastard.

Layla couldn't take those things back. She couldn't rewind time, couldn't go back and tell Theo that she never wanted to see him again. To tell him that she knew he was a liar and that he never loved her. She should've never let Hayden near him, but it was too late for that.

And so now Theo believed that Layla was some type of emotionless pit, that she was like him. And at this point Stiles probably thought the same thing.

And in that moment Layla had been all those things, she knew that. It was like she had an alter ego and throughtout that incident she was giving into the voice in her head. Another crack in the wall that allowed another drop of posion to seep through.

But she would allow it to happen no longer. She would get out of Eichen House, get Lydia out of Eichen House and she would show her friends and family that the real Layla Stilinski was back. And she would ignore that voice inside her head. She would ignore its lullabies and ignore its commands.

She only hoped that she was strong enough.

Layla also wondered what sick method of torture it was that Doctor Varlack had in store for her. She still had no idea why he wanted her here and what she could possibly give him. Surely he couldn't know that the Doctors had taken her as an infant. Surely he couldn't know what she really was.

Layla's head snapped up at the sound of oncoming footsteps. She stiffened and jumped up, her back against the wall. Her eyes remained focused on the glass door in front of her and she watched as a person came into view.

Her lip curled at the sight of Doctor Varlack standing dressed in suit trousers and a waistcoat. He rolled a trolley up alongside him and slowly slid open the glass door.

"Hello Layla." He spoke as Layla remained pinned against the wall, not attempting to escape as she knew it would do her no good.

She stared at him, her eyes cold and hard, her jaw clenched. "Doctor Dickwad." She seethed.

Doctor Valack tutted and shook his head. "This will be a lot easier if you just remain quite and cooperate."

"You're going to torture me." Layla said deadpanned, her eyes skimming over the numerous sharp objects.

"Yes. I am."

Eichen House employees surged in, five, ten, fifteen of them. All armed with syringes of wolfsbane. They surrounded Layla from all angles, leaving her nowhere to turn.

Layla bared her fangs and launched herself at one of the employees, successfully pinning him to the ground as she clawed at him, growling like a wolf.

She hissed as the rest of the nurses advanced, multiple doses of wolfsbane entering her bloodstream. Layla howled in pain as she felt as if she was on fire.

She tried to fight back as they tied her to the bed. She tried to fight back as Doctor Valack picked up the first of his long line of torture instruments. And she tried to fight back as he began to slice her body.