♡ 𝙩𝙖𝙨𝙩𝙚 𝙤𝙛 𝙮𝙤𝙪 ♡
𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘱𝘵𝘦𝘳 eighty-seven.

every corner of this house is haunted.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

𝐃𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐀𝐒 felt the cold gust of a heavy sigh shudder past her lips. With each tantalizing breath, her eyes dawned on her chest, which had risen and fallen as quickly as ancient empires. If it weren't for the horror massacred on her collarbones like scarlet warpaint or the messy red lip that had made its way to her chin, you could say she looked almost godly. Godly in a way that was harmonious with sin. A god whose symbol was its undoing.

She felt no desire to tidy herself up. Her appearance was the last thing on her mind. Even if it had been sewn into her life's tapestry, she couldn't make this level of primitive prowl pretty.

"Dallas?"

Scott had both hands stationed on each shoulder. A part of him wanted to shake her until she could scrape the remnants of herself together, but that would surely take longer than they had. Instead, he repeated the only thing he could think of.

"Think of Lydia."

She met his gaze. Did he know that's all she thought of? In these miserable moments of clarity, among the multitude of madness, Lydia was just another sacrificial lamb amidst the many.

She recalled the times they'd been inseparable as children and barely tolerant of each other recently. Dallas couldn't shake off the feeling of guilt as she thought of how she'd abandoned her or how abandoned she felt weeks prior. After all, there was nothing bloodier than being girls together.

She missed her best friend, and even though they were terrible at keeping that term alive, the last thing Dallas could do was keep Lydia alive.

"Let's go."

⊱ ──────ஓ๑♡๑ஓ ────── ⊰

Derek Hale felt out of place, to say the very least. He was more of a gritty, hands-on guy. Those hands were usually rough and mud-stained, fumbling with each emotion in them like fragile glass. He'd been sliced a few times from the same carelessness. He didn't want to achieve the same thing with James.

But even now, with a towel around his waist and holding an aftershave that probably cost too much to consider, it dawned on him that he and James were still very different people. 

"I'm not putting any of this damn shit on my face." He spoke up, mouth muffled with a toothbrush and cocked an arched brow, eyeing up the various bottles and colognes cluttering up the sink. 

"I'm surprised you don't roll around in the dirt and call it a day." James sassed from the doorway, taking a long sip of coffee and slipping his hand into his pocket. As he grinned from behind the cup, though, Derek swore he could see his reflection in his sharp canine teeth. 

He rolled his eyes, the brown hue glinting beneath the bathroom light, and snickered beneath the toothpaste. "Yeah, yeah, laugh it up. Three showers and you still smell like a dead guy."

"Downside of being a dead guy, I think." James checked his watch. "Don't take too much longer, yeah? I think I got the eggs perfectly un-burnt this time."

Derek waved his boyfriend off, humming in acknowledgement, before spitting another round of mouthwash into the sink. He'd been attentive with him, more than he'd ever attempted with the many years married to his wife, and Derek was unsure how to take all the new attention. 

How do you even domesticate such a lone wolf?

He bit back the thought, the words dying on his tongue.

James pulled the bathroom door to a close, giving his boyfriend one last long look. He could smell the crisp scent of bacon in the air, followed by the sweet smell of rich coffee and caramelized bagel. 

God, it made him sick.

The moment he was out of sight, shrouded by the familiar darkness of the hall, he felt nothing but comfort and consolation. His hands shook beneath the cufflinks, reminding him of the itch that seemed too far out of reach. A thirst one could never quench, no matter how much drank. 

It was all-consuming. And it was everything he wanted.

James squeezed his eyes shut, hoping to drown out the thoughts that plagued the mind behind them.  He just needed one drop. Just the one, and he'd go back to being himself. The overbearing father, the weak-minded lover. The shred of normalcy that he clung to through each passing storm.

But that's not how it worked. It was a slippery slope that only ended at his lips. He wouldn't fall to the same tricks that sank its claws into his daughter. 

But isn't it ironic? Wouldn't it be heavenly? To drink the same water as the siren, the very one you once gazed upon with disgust? 

This was the third time those words had haunted his brain this week. And the little drops he stole were becoming heavier and heavier. He bit back the urge to drop to his knees and plead for mercy. If not by the hands of any god, then at the hands of himself. 

⊱ ──────ஓ๑♡๑ஓ ────── ⊰

Lavish flames of red and orange licked up Parrish's body, leaving every crevice scorched and scarred. Despite the crackling sparks and wafting smoke around him, the way his skin crackled like hot coal and sizzling metal, his eyes locked solely on Theo's. 

They didn't dawdle there for long though; straying only to shift down to the claws pressing tightly against Lydia's soft gulping throat. Theo stared back, almost feverishly, and let out a deep rumble of a chuckle.

"Back off," Theo warned, his nails pressing harder against her pale flesh. Yet, despite this, Parrish's steps only increased. He dug his nails deeper, leaving a little trickle of blood to stream down into her collarbones and paint her neck with a crimson swipe. "I said back off!"

"Take him," Theo muttered, his voice muffled by Lydia's strawberry-blonde strands.

"-But the guys on fire-"

"You'll heal. Do it." He spat out again, ignoring the concerned look of his packmates behind him, and scrunched up his lip into a bitter snarl. 

Tracey was the first to pounce, claws extended as she ran, but felt nothing but a soft burn scatter up her bones as she dug them into his stomach. Swatting her to the side with ease, he barely had time to watch her buckle into the plastic screen. 

Another hit came his way, but despite it being charged with electricity and malice, it felt more like a love tap against his hot skin.

"-Theo, this isn't working." The boy could barely groan out before being rag-dolled to the side.

Theo watched with a tightening grip on Lydia's porcelain frame. But his legs buckled, bringing him to the desperate sight of him on his knees, and he fumbled against the dirty concrete floor. He could barely make out the doctor's sneer from behind him before the Banshee was dragged out of sight, the doctor's grip even harsher than his had been.

"Sorry Theo, but I'm not done with her yet."

He managed to scramble to his feet and watched Lydia disappear down the hall. To his right, Parrish was still ferocious and oncoming. With the swift break of a pipe pole, he shot it towards his chest in a final desperate plea.

Parrish was in no right mind to see it coming. Or to even acknowledge it's presence snuggled tightly between each rib, but when he did, both bright and blazing eyes cooled down to a pool of solemn brown swirls.

Stiles felt his heart race a million beats per minute. As he tried to stand, a flaming body knocked him back down to his feet with a rough grunt. Dizziness shrouded his sight and left his steps a little jumbled, each one being few and far between than the last, but he still took them with the same determination.  He could barely lift the body from his lap before the final door slammed in his face and left his hands pounding helplessly on the door. 

"Hey!" His screams were continuous. "Lydia!"

⊱ ──────ஓ๑♡๑ஓ ────── ⊰

"Starting to question where your loyalties lie?"

Deucalion's voice woke Hayden out of her slumbery thoughts. For the sightless, he seemed to see the blurriest of thoughts she had clearly. "Or maybe you're starting to understand your role."

"What role?" She snapped back, her voice instantly growing defensive. She had nothing to feel guilt for, to feel remorse for, but if that were true.. why did everything feel so heavy?

"Why would Theo leave you here?" He questioned, pushing his fingers into her soft spots and prodding at the wounds. "Why not leave Josh or Corey?.. You're stronger and faster than both. And more fearless."

Hayden tore her look away from his with a gruff look. His questions weren't welcome. Neither was his presence. Instead of answering fully, she toyed with the glass jar of claws, tapping her own against it gently. 

"I know why I'm stuck here with you.. because when it comes to Liam, I'm a liability." 

How on earth could she forget? Theo had said it to her over and over. She was sure the sounds had stained her brain.

But Deucalion was determined to poke holes through her words.  "You could leave. You could go off to help them. No one has to know."

But Hayden was too smart for that. "Except for you."

"Oh, I'm no friend to Theo. You want to help Liam? Worry less about being a liability and more about your ability to lie."

With a loud huff, Hayden placed the claws down. God, she wish she could put him down too. 

⊱ ──────ஓ๑♡๑ஓ ────── ⊰

Liam's hand shook as he raised it to the doorway, a blue glimmer flickering beneath his fingertips and stretching out into a border. With a thick swallow, he turned to Scott, who wore his worrisome look like a twin.

They both then looked to Dallas, who was rummaging through the pockets of the dead and injured guards. Her fingers were light as she hooked keys over her knuckles and slipped keycards into her pockets.

Albeit, she still had blood-stained collarbones and a splattered jawline. She wore it like messy makeup, ignoring the odd glances it gave her. She'd tied her hair up with the elastic from one of their ties and bunched her sleeves up to her arms as she rooted. Something told her things were only beginning to get messy.

Scott grabbed the radio from her hand and pressed it against his lips. "Does anyone have eyes on the closed united? I need a status report."

"It's a war zone down there." 

Liam felt his ears prick up and turned to both his friends, who seemed just as clueless. 

"uh.. 10-4." Scott murmured with a faint hitch in his breath. "And what about the patients? Lydia Martin?"

The radio fell silent before buzzing once more. "Who is this?"

"Its.. unit nine." Scott shrugged helplessly once Dallas rolled her eyes at his flawed lie.

"There is no unit nine. who is this? how did you get?-"

Dallas barely had time to rise from her knees before Scott crumpled up the radio to the floor. She let out a disapproving tut while her boots kicked the shattered shards of plastic out the way. 

"Perfect, what now?"

"Any idea how to get through the mountain ash?" Liam mirrored her question, sharing a look with her before settling their eyes on their alpha.

"There might be another person here who could help us." Scott then turned to Dallie. "Remember Meredith?"

Course she did. Smelling like death was a compliment she hadn't so easily forgotten. With the simple nod, she gestured Scott to take the lead, as he so often would. 

⊱ ──────ஓ๑♡๑ஓ ────── ⊰

James held the scrubber and soap tightly in both hands. Each breath was careful. The running water before him kept him entranced. If the liquid were a little darker, a little thicker.. it'd look like-

"How Dallie eats your cooking, ill never know." Derek teased from behind him, pulling the leather jacket over his broad shoulders and breaking his train of thought.

James forced a chuckle. "Next time, ill leave you to chase your rabbits and deer, shall I?"

Derek took the tease in earnest and slid his arms through the material. His senses were too stuffed up with love to smell the guilt radiating from his boyfriend before him. 

"You're still up for dinner right?" Derek stuffed his keys in his back pocket and leant against the sink, a hopeful look staining his usual sour features.

Jim split a grin ear to ear. Like he'd split skin once before. "Of course. Cant let the sour wolf starve."

He felt a pinch in his shoulder and watched the roll of Derek's eyes as he headed to the door. Life was bliss. Love was a beautiful stream of sand to stick one's head in.

Those words lingered on his lips. 'I love you' came so natural when one was saying it in a desperate plea, but right after breakfast felt too scary to imagine. At least for Derek.

Instead he settled for a 'See you later, Garcia.' and let the implication hang heavy in the air, much like his affection.

Jim wanted to stand there and soak up the feeling. He wanted to enjoy the simple times, to embrace love as it arrived on his doorstep. But death was not far behind, his scythe in hand.

The moment the door closed, James dropped the dishes into the sink. With wet hands and urgency into his step, he launched himself through doors and down steps to the basement. Usually, it only held things too painful to observe. Old family photos. Albums of what could've been. Years that faded with time.

And a freezer, cradled in the corner and shrouded with a black sheet. 

James knelt before it in panic and prayer. His ringed fingers dug through the ice and packaged meat until everything spilled into his lap. Bags and bags of crimson red liquid, barely frozen.

He ripped open the packages, drinking down the liquid in haste and allowing it to flow freely down his chin. As soon as one bag was finished, he'd gulp down another. And another. And another.

Plastic, ice and blood surrounded his feet. He was a shell of the man he once was. And his corpse was forced to operate under his greatest fears.

Tears pricked his eyes, but hunger pricked his stomach far worse.

"What the hell are you doing?"

His teary eyes shot up and widened at Sybil. She stood in the doorway, hands fallen at both sides, and swallowed thickly at the sight.

James didn't try to explain. He couldn't. He simply remained sat in his own filth and pity, staring up at the glimmer of light that cascaded around her figure.

But she took a step back.. and like a frightened predator, he took several forward. "Wait!"

Dallas couldn't see him like this. 

"Sybil, wait!"

Within the seconds it took her to reach the door, he was already towering over her. His look was colder, irises a deeper shade of brown and veins snaked beneath his eyebags. His jaw was clenched and nails stamped crescent moons into the palms. 

"I said wait."

Sybil hardened her look. "You're a mess."

James chuckled coldly. "And you're not going anywhere."

⊱ ──────ஓ๑♡๑ஓ ────── ⊰

Electricity covered Kira's body in a blanket of blue bursts. Her fists were clenched and she wore a terrified look, one that was mirrored in Malia.

"I don't know how long I'm going to last." The Yukimura spoke through gritted teeth which chattered with each energy pulse.

"How did you stop it before?"

Kira grabbed one of the freezer drawers of the morgue and hid her face in the metal. Cold lips murmured against the edges while she fought both inner turmoil and outer destruction.

"Scott... Scott carried me outside, which almost killed him." Her words were breathless. Her body and brain could barely form the sentences without the wince and whimper of pain. 

"Okay, uh, maybe we can try grounding you to something-"

"Do you have a degree in electrical engineering? Cause I don't know how to do that-" Kira snapped, squeezing her eyes shut and hiding her face from view. 

Just as she spoke, a lightning charge of electricity came crashing through her veins, forcing Malia backwards to cower in the corner. Kira wanted to look back and make sure her friend was okay, but whatever clawed its way inside of her was now clawing at her skin to get out. 

"You have to get out of here!"

Malia's words were sympathetic. Her hand extended in a peaceful grab, hoping.. pleading.. she'd take it. "I can't leave you."

Instead Kira batted her head against the metal drawers over and over, hoping one pain could dull the other. "I should've stayed in the desert with the Skinwalkers. I can't control this. I'm never going to be able to." 

Malia crept from the corner and held out her other hand, raising them both in a surrender. 

"Kira.. it worked. You saw it work.. You controlled it long enough to control the brownout. You can stop it."

"Go!" Kira's voice distorted into something otherworldly. With deep ridges and echoes too deep for her own throat. "Malia, go!"

Another jolt of electricity. Another shockwave of energy. Malia was forced back to her knees. And she was forced to run. 

⊱ ──────ஓ๑♡๑ஓ ────── ⊰

Dallie's ankles hurt as she turned from corner to corner, following Scott and his beta to some room hidden deep in the hospital. All she could smell was sickness, sorrow and death.

It would be unsettling if it didn't feel so comforting. 

She felt the gust of wind clip her shoulder as Liam locked the door behind her. Meredith sat unresponsive on a withered chair before them. It took only one shared look and a bent knee for Scott to make the first move. 

"Meredith?" He spoke softly. "Meredith, It's Scott. Scott McCall."

A beat.

Another.

Too many to count. Especially since the siren had already stopped.

She placed both hands on Meredith's arms and gave them a gentle squeeze.

"Hey." She tried to make eye contact but the view was too fuzzy. "Meredith? Nap times over, wake up."

 The shaking became more insistent. Dallas was getting more frustrated. For a girl that could control everything, she was spiralling at the second she couldn't. "Wake up." She hissed.

"Dallas, relax-"

Dallie let out a sharp scoff, dropping her head a little as she knelt. How could she relax? How on earth could she relax given the circumstances? How could she let the wheel that crushed her keep turning? To let the vicious cycle of the slaughtered lamb continue? 

But she took a deep heavy breath. She couldn't lose her composure as well as her mind. Meredith was a gateway, not a scapegoat. This wasn't her frustration to soothe.

They had to find another way. And soon.

⊱ ──────ஓ๑♡๑ஓ ────── ⊰

Stiles feet carried him hastily, his pants audible through every heavy step as he broke through the door.

"Stiles!" Theo was behind him. Chasing him, even. "I want her out of here too!"

"What do you want?" Stiles spat as he inched closer to his face. How dare he show his face? After he put everything him through. Everything Scott through. Everything Dallas through. Now Lydia was his newest torture doll.

"I have her scent. I can find her, you can't."

God, the way he said that was almost smug. It drove Stiles crazy. A part of him wanted to strike him down where he stood. To use the clenched fists he held for so long. But it was no good. It would achieve nothing but messy knuckles and a stained shirt.

Theo pointed to the vents lining the floor while steam erupted from around their feet. "They lead to the tunnels, right?"

Stiles bit back a bitter comment and took a step forward. "Miles of them... but they could be anywhere by now."

His eyes settled on the ladder beneath the crate and shared a look with Theo. If one thing was certain, he was going first. 

⊱ ──────ஓ๑♡๑ஓ ────── ⊰

Dallas paced back and forth while Scott cradled Meredith's hand. "Hey Meredith.. can you hear me?.. we need your help. We're trying to find Lydia."

This was too gentle and slow paced for her. Her head had become a mess of fast paced thought and anxious yells at her body to go faster. To fix this quicker. The guilt had her running on borrowed time and each ill-thought step would only bring her closer to the end.

"Scott, we better go." Liam swallowed thickly, feeling tensions rise and humidity rise quicker as she paced.

"Meredith, listen." Scott ignored his friends and pushed more. "There has to be another way to get Lydia. We can't get past the mountain ash. How do we find her?"

"Scott-"

He waited. For minutes longer than the two approved of. Dallas thought he was being weak, Liam thinking he was naive. But as he stood, ready to give up altogether, Meredith tugged his hands before it could leave hers.

She placed his palm beside her neck, widening his eyes. "I could hurt you-"

He gave a silent nod and extended his claws, digging them into the back of her neck and seeing what other's couldn't. What even Dallas couldn't.

It was an odd feeling.. being out of one's body. He stepped back, but his body remained in place. He turned to Dallas, seeing the scales pulsing under her skin as she paced. Then at Liam, who's claws were almost visible beneath the knuckle.

He just had to find his way to Lydia. And back.

⊱ ──────ஓ๑♡๑ஓ ────── ⊰

Malia was hunched over, hiding beneath a metal table, and winced as electricity bounced from wall to wall. As she hid, she placed her hands over her ears and squeezed her eyes shut until the room had silenced once more.

Until Kira was unconscious on the floor. 

"Kira?" She slipped out and took a stand. "Kira!"

Malia knelt beside her and reached out for her. However, a voice forced her to look up. One she didn't recognize.

In the doorway, masked by darkness, stood someone she'd never seen before. Nor one she trusted. "I wouldn't do that." He began. "I can feel the electricity coming off her. I can help her."

Malia almost spat out the words. "Why?"

He took a step aside. Behind him, one of the pack member's Theo had used and discarded sat there wounded and burned. 

"Cause I need yours."

☆ word count: 3,756. ☆

a/n: my gf made me a new end-of-chap gif considering my old one was literally from 2020. look at these divas!! be nice in the comments or youll scare me off for another 6 months like a wild animal