Unbroken ▹ Teen Wolf [02]

12; destined to die

(TRIGGER WARNING: although I highly doubt anything will get too intense, I don't want any of you guys taking chances. If needed, message me & I can give you a very brief summary of what happened. I love you all).

"This isn't real. None of this is real. This can't be real." Rachel repeated to herself in the darkness, leaning back against the door. "I've lived with werewolves all my life, I created a kanima last year & there's currently a darach ritually sacrificing people in my hometown, but this, this level of insanity is where I draw the fucking line."

Click.

Click.

Click.

It never stopped. The metallic clicking noises, varying slightly in tone, only seemed to grow louder now that she had become aware their true origin was inside her head & she knew nothing of how to make it stop. Her realization only seemed to strengthen it, giving it more power as she began to question her sanity. Rachel knew she wasn't crazy, not yet anyway, but something like this was enough to make her question just how sure she was.

"I know someone's in here." She hissed, her head falling back against the wood with a soft sound of impact. "The door didn't shut itself."

As expected, no one answered her— nor did anything change. The noise continued clawing at the walls of her mind, begging for her undying attention as she fought to focus on the darkness around her & improvise a way out of the room. It took a moment & a few more repetitions of hitting her head against the door, but she came to the conclusion that she first needed a source of light before she could work at anything else.

Upon instinct, she first tried to glow her eyes a bright alpha red to see if she'd be able to pick up on a heat signature, but she quickly found that she couldn't. Rachel couldn't even summon her reflector abilities, let alone the werewolf ones she was certain she'd possessed before leaving her room. She couldn't comprehend it, nor did she have the attention span that doing so would require; a suffocating feeling of dread had now moved in & wasn't leaving anytime soon.

It was a small motel room, presumably nearly identical to the one she had been in earlier, so there had to be a switch somewhere. If she couldn't use her abilities for whatever reason, then she needed a damn light. As far as she knew, the power was still on; meaning if she could find a switch, she could finally be able to see whoever the hell was in the room & hopefully find a way out.

Slowly, Rachel stood up, her hands gliding against the wall behind her for support. It was unbelievably disorientating in utter darkness, and if she survived this, she had officially vowed to always keep a miniature flashlight in her pocket from now until the day of her death. She didn't fear the dark, but she didn't like it in the slightest. Darkness had no respect for personal space, much like the sun, although unlike it's bright counterpart, darkness was suffocating. The light was capable of showing you the world, whilst the darkness' only power was to steal it away.