Wild Ones - Teen Wolf fan fic

Recalibrate

Everything was backward. I watched as the cement slowly fell away from my face. I was standing on the steps in front of Echo House. The vintage car still sat in the drive, but everyone was gone, vanished. All but the burning man. I looked on in confused horror as the heap of burning flesh rose from the ground in almost slow motion. The arms flailed and the charred head turned from side to side in anguish. The skin seemed to melt back to form recognizable features. The flames shrank and glass shards flew through the air, forming a vodka bottle. Then the bottle vanished all together and there stood the officer, unscathed. Then time seemed to catch up. The man jerked once, then looked around, an expression of bewilderment etched on his handsome face. He looked up at me and froze. I simply stared, still in shock from what I had just witnessed.

"Who are you?" He asked, looking around again. I couldn't find my voice, so I simply stared.

"Where is everyone?!" His volume suddenly raised.

"You're dead. You burned." I whispered.

Then it felt as if a bomb had gone off. The ground suddenly began shaking making me lose my balance. I caught myself on my hands and knees on the cool cement. I heard the officer shout once, but his voice was cut off. I looked up, but he wasn't what caught my attention. A bottle was flying through the air, not toward him. It was coming at me. Before I had a chance to react, it struck the ground directly in front of me, flames bursting up at my arms and face. I screamed and threw myself backwards, landing on my back, clawing at my face. The flames were everywhere. I was burning. I felt my skin blister and tighten as the flames continued to engulf me. I could smell my burning hair and flesh. The pain was unimaginable. I felt something smothering me, making me thrash harder. My throat ached as I continued screaming uncontrollably. Whatever had been smothering me was pulled away and I gasped as a cool breeze caressed my charred skin. Carefully, I opened my eyes. The flames were gone, replaced by black, charred skin. My hands resembled the clawed feet of a raven, black and curled. My clothes were burnt and shredded, the patches of visible skin matching my hands. I whimpered and looked around in alarm, feeling myself shake uncontrollably

"Shhh. You're okay. I've got you."

I looked up to see Stiles holding me to his chest, his arms wrapped around me protectively. I blinked in suprise.

"Are... you real?" I asked. He smiled at me and shrugged. There was something off about the way he looked. His eyes. They were black as pitch. I pushed at his arms in an attempt to get him off, but he easy held me in place.

"I'm as real as you make me."

I looked up in alarm. It wasn't Stiles anymore. I stared up into the face of the officer. He smiled and tilted his head to one side. I watched in fear as his skin began to blister and blacken. I fought to release myself from his grip, ignoring the sharp pain of my skin against the fabric of his uniform. He released me. I crawled backwards, trembling, unable to look away from what I saw. He sat still, his head still tilted to one side, arms at his sides. Then suddenly his jaw fell away, crumbling to ash when it struck the cement. His left arm followed, bursting to ash on impact. Then his whole body collapsed in on itself, leaving a cloud of ash in its wake.

Choking. I was choking. I struggled to breathe. My eyes snapped open. The light was blinding, searing my vision. I struggled to turn my head and move my arms. I was strapped down to a table. I was covered in tubes and wires. I looked around the room. I was in a brightly lit room, surrounded by steel cabinets and brick walls. It reeked of urine and bleach. I looked down at my arms. They were held in place by heavy, steel shackles bolted to the table and a long, thick chain ran across my chest, waist, thighs, and calves. I was immobile. A leather strap held my forehead, making turning my head difficult. As I examined my bindings, I noticed my skin was intact. My clothes were in good condition as well. I winced. It had been another dream. I winced at the image that flashed behind my eyes of the flames blooming to life from the molotov cocktail. A shiver raced down my spine.