Gut Instinct (Teen Wolf)

3:32 I Know You Can

Warnings: ANGST, have tissues nearby, deliberate vagueness, injuries (burns), a lot of descriptions, not much action, slight swearing

It was hard to tell how long she had been there. There were no windows or doors that led outside. She had tried them all. The roof seemed to be miles above her head that she couldn't see it. The walls were stone brick, no crack she could find. The only source of light she had were the fluorescent lights that hung from the ceiling.

She could've been there for a day, an hour, or a week. It could've been the middle of summer and she wouldn't be able to tell.

How was she not hungry? She had no sense of passing time, not even by her stomach. She didn't feel any hunger or thirst. It was like she was just frozen in time. No urges to use the bathroom either. And she hadn't found one to begin with.

She glanced over to the boy. Alex, his parents had called him. He sat with his parents on either side of him. His head was on his mom's shoulder. But she knew he wasn't asleep.

That was another weird thing about this place. No one slept. No one closed their eyes. They just looked forward, like each of them were caught in an eternal staring contest. One woman was reading a magazine (Vogue) and a man was reading the newspaper. But there was no emotion or either of their faces.

Why wasn't she like that? Why wasn't she just staring at the wall? Was it her connection to nature that allowed her to think? Have conscious movement? Probably.

She still didn't know what threat this was.

She walked over to the ticket stand, the one that made her think of a movie theatre. There was a sign that read, 'Be back in five.' She ran her finger along the counter. It came back with an inch of dust. It seemed no one had been there in years, much less five minutes.

She wiped her finger on her leggings and walked over to the man with the newspaper. "Excuse me," she said. No reply. "Excuse me, sir?" The man looked up this time. He blinked, as if being woken up from a dream. "Is it okay if I see your paper for a moment?" She asked.

The man hesitated before he held it out to her. "Be quick," he told her. "I'm trying to finish the crossword before the train comes."

She nodded and took it from his hand. "Thank you, sir." She went to the front page and looked at the date.

'April 8th, 1987.'

She furrowed her brows. "Where did you get this?" She asked, handing it back to him.

He thought for a moment, his expression blank. "I'm not entirely sure," he admitted. "Just that I got it when I arrived."

"When was that?" She asked.

"Three hours ago," he said. His tone suggested he wasn't entirely sure.

"Do you know when the train's coming?" She asked.

The man pointed to the sign on the wall. She looked over, despite having memorized the entire thing. Down the Arrivals board, each one read 'Arrived.' Except for Beacon Hills. Beside Beacon Hills was the words 'On Time.' The words sent a spike of fear run up her spine.

Her eyes went to the sign highest on the board. 'Train Station 126'

She knew Beacon Hills almost as much as she knew the preserve. There had never been a train station there before in the history of the town.

So where the hell was she?

She brought her hand up to her collarbones, about to run her thumb over her necklace. Only to find once more that it wasn't there. She swallowed down the lump in her throat. It still felt like it was there. It felt like losing a limb. She still thought it was there, even though she knew it wasn't.