♡ 𝙩𝙖𝙨𝙩𝙚 𝙤𝙛 𝙮𝙤𝙪 ♡
𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘱𝘵𝘦𝘳 fifty-five
he knows
─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───
THE LIGHT SHONE DOWN ON THE GLOSSED LIPS OF DALLAS GARCIA, WHO STARED EERILY INTO THE MIRROR SHE HAD STUCK INSIDE OF HER LOCKER DOOR.
Her lips parted as her fingertip traced the edge of her jaw and underneath her eyes. Her lips stretched out into a smirk as every imperfection from yesterday blotted away. She had forgotten how much better she felt after each feed, and now, she was feeling the benefits.
Before she could slam her locker shut and drown in her own self-destruction, the siren felt two hands prompt themselves over her eyes and a heavy feeling settle on her shoulders.
"Guess who?"
It didn't take a genius to figure it out. From his coarse but gentle hands planted over her soft skin to his burgundy cologne-soaked flannel pressing delicately against her lower back to the swift beating of his forever unsteady heart.
She placed her hands over his and leaned her head back deep within his chest. Sighing heavily and inhaling his scent, she spoke once more. "Give me a clue?"
Stiles squinted his eyes and bit back his grin before dropping his hands to her hips. "Hey, don't break my heart here, Dallie."
Dallas felt her humanity creep to the surface like an underlying ghost. Turning her head slightly to the side, she lay eyes on her boyfriend who had a cheshire cat grin that stretched wide across his dashing features.
He tucked a strand of hair behind her ear while his fingers brushed against her warm cheek. "You do something different with your hair?"
Dallas quirked a brow. "No?"
He kept a momentary stare at her. "No, you did something different today. Fess up."
She pretended to think. "Looks like somebody's been paying too much attention to Star Wars instead of their girlfriend. Shame on you." she watched as he gave a faux wince. "Nothing's changed." Dallas turned back to her locker.
Before she could fully face it, though, his hands span her waist so she turned back to his chest and pulled her closer. "'Bout time I fix that, huh?"
Before he could press his lips against hers, a stumble out of the Principal's office caught their eyes. Straightening his jacket and blowing a strand of hair from his forehead, Theo Raeken glanced away from Principal Thomas.
"Your first day here and you're already on one detention. Don't make this a habit, Raeken-"
Dallas flickered her eyes back to Stiles who contorted his eyebrows together in a suspicious manner at the very sight of the boy. "I don't trust that guy,"
She quirked a brow at it as she tried to peer into his head. However, no thoughts arose. Atleast, not ones she could read. His mind was racing a hundred miles an hour and she could barely grasp any of it. "It's Theo Raeken, nobody does." she replied nonchalantly.
He took a second glance at her. "You know him?"
Dallas leant against her locker and peered her head back at Theo, who conveniently, could hear every word of their conversation as he passed by. "You usually do know your exes." she hummed.
"You dated Raeken?"
Dallas winced. "No, not so much dated, but definitely a fling. A uhm.. a something for sure." she turned to Stiles who knitted brows towards the boy. "Back from a time when I didn't know the difference between my taste in men.. and well, my appetite." she ended with a huff and an unusual head tilt.
She noticed his silence and split a grin. "Stiles, I can assure you Theo Raeken is the last person you have to worry about," Dallas stated while her hands slid down Stiles' chest. Only then, did he wrap his hands around hers and take a closer look at the blood-stained cuticles.
"I know," he mumbled, thinking deeply about the double-meanings her words held. Looking back at Theo, Stiles frowned. "It's just.. there was a fire last night. Alotta burnt bodies at one of the bars on the south of the highway. Little suspicious it happens right when he comes into town, right?"
Dallas flickered her eyes to Theo and then back to Stiles without a speck of emotion. "Maybe it's Kate," she whispered sarcastically. "Back from the dead to continue her reign of terror on Beacon Hills. Always was quite the firebug," she spoke dramatically.
When Stiles narrowed his eyes at her insensitivity, she drew back and sighed heavily. "It's Beacon Hills, Stiles. Weird things happen all the time. Stop worrying, okay? For me?" she leaned forward and gazed into his eyes with a manipulative glint.
He remained silent for a moment, partially speechless, partially suspicious. "Yeah." The human nodded with a slight grin. "You're probably right."
She gave a whimsical smile at his obedience and obliviousness. Luring people into a false sense of security was her exact nature. Pulling at every string, planting the correct thoughts and emotions? It was almost too easy.
"When am I not?" the brunette winked before lingering her lips above his as he stared down at her. "Come on, who's gonna dare to cause that kind of havoc with tons of werewolves running around the place?"
Dallas raised a brow at the question while she awaited his answer. Almost baiting him, she gleamed a pearly smile.
Stiles cocked his head to the side. "Yeah, nevermind, forget it." a small scoff escaped his lips while she clutched onto his flannel.
Planting a kiss on the side of his cheek, Dallas planted her sunglasses back on her face. "I gotta go, I don't wanna fail chem, but I'll see you later?"
Her voice was more stern than usual. Like she was telling him, not asking him. She held a certain authority that was much stronger than usual. When her lips left the edge of his cheek, he felt her hand slide away from his chest and was left feeling a lot colder than before. "Hey, Dallie?" he called out to her.
She turned to face him.
"I love you."
She squinted her eyes at him and broke out into another smile before turning away. She didn't say it back. Not even acknowledgement towards him.
That wasn't his Dallas.
⊱ ──────ஓ๑♡๑ஓ ────── ⊰
Theo Raeken stood before Scott McCall taking an occasional glance at the human who glared at him from the corner. The air was cold on his arms and the hair rose on the back of his neck. "I was skating in a neighbour's empty pool, trying to land a handplant." he paused. "Nobody was home. I'm not that good of a skateboarder, but I guess I was feeling pretty determined because I completely lost track of time."
"I didn't even realise that it was night until the yard lights came on." Theo glanced between the boys. "Like I said, I wasn't very good. On my last try, I went down and hit hard." he winced at the memory of it. "Really hard. I was sitting there at the bottom of the pool and I realised something. I never heard the board come back down."
Memories of the bloodied, red-eyed werewolf holding his skateboard dawned upon him and he shook his head in dismay to shake away the sight. "It came at me fast." he swallowed. "I barely had a chance to turn around before it bit me." he gestured to his abdomen. "Right here."
Scott frowned. "It wasn't an accident. He wanted to turn you."
Stiles, however, had his arms crossed and his eyes fallen into slits at the young werewolf. "Right. So.. why aren't you part of his pack then?" he cocked his head to the side. "Why didn't he come back for you?"
Theo noticed his hostility. "Because by the time of my first full moon, he was dead."
Stiles nodded along sarcastically. "Yeah, and how did you know that?"
"I met another one of his pack a couple of weeks later. He told me the Alpha that bit me was killed by two of his own Betas. They were twins."
Both Scott and Stiles shared a knowing look. Although, even though his story made sense, Stiles still found it hard to trust him. He dropped his head to the floor with a snarky grin.
Theo watched them conspire under their eyes and turned back to the Alpha. "Scott, listen to my pulse. I'm telling you the truth."
Stiles butted in. "Right - or you just know how to steady your own heart rate when you're lying your ass off." he stepped forward with an accusing tone.
"Why would I lie?"
The Human gave him a peculiar look. "Because maybe you're not who you say you are."
"Okay, in fourth grade you had an inhaler." he turned to Scott. "I had one too. I remember this day where I ended up in the nurse's office with an asthma attack. A bad one." He ignored how the human paced around beside him. "I was waiting to be taken to the ER. You were waiting for the Principal. You told me that when you go to the ER for asthma, how they give you oxygen and an IV of prednisone." he breathed heavily. "You made it sound easy. Like everything would be okay."
The two boys shared a look of understanding while Stiles rolled his eyes to the back of his head and dropped his look back to his feet.
"I've been alone this whole time," Theo spoke up. "Everybody knows that lone wolves, they don't make it on their own. I swear I'm that kid from fourth grade. I was hoping you are, too."
The bell rang throughout the halls and Theo gripped his bag and took a few steps back. "I better not be late for class." he sighed. He then turned to the Stilinski. "You're not the only ones I need to make a good impression on."
Scott grinned outwardly whereas Stiles grew visibly sour. When he eventually dropped out of sight, he approached his best friend and huffed. Scott raised an eyebrow at him and watched as avoided it. "Don't give me that look."
"We have to give people the benefit of the doubt sometimes."
"Do we?" Stiles swallowed down his suspicions. "It's not just Theo, Scott. It's Dallas too. I can't help but feel like there's something.. off. And we're not paying attention."
"Well, what did she do?"
"Nothing, but-"
Scott knitted his eyebrows. "Then what did she say?"
Stiles grew frustrated. "Nothing-" he cut himself off with a heavy sigh. "Look, it feels different. Everything does. I don't know, It's a feeling."
Scott cocked a brow and gave his best friend an unimpressed look. "Dallas has always been a little on the extreme side. She's probably still mad about her aunt. Give her some time, man." he slapped his hand on his shoulder. "For once, Beacon Hills is normal. Enjoy it."
As Scott gave him a supportive nod, Stiles couldn't shake the icky feeling. Nor could he ignore it. All he could do was put his faith in himself. Just as Dallas would.
He'd have to be the one to investigate.
⊱ ──────ஓ๑♡๑ஓ ────── ⊰
The dripping and swaying of blood entered Dallie's ears as she sat on the lap of her newest victim. He was thickly built, wincing and barely alive. She gripped on the material of his leather coat while her head was buried in his neck. The sticky liquid dripped from his fingers as he sat defeated in the metal chair with laboured, dying breaths.
She pulled her head back from his neck while his blood soaked down her neck and into the crevices of her shirt. "You," The siren swallowed it down. "You're quiet. I like you." Dallas slapped her hand gently against his cheek. His vision blurred and with the blood clotting in his throat, he was unable to reply.
Dallas rolled her eyes at it, though. "Ugh, it's too easy." she stood up and shoved him off the chair. "I mean, seriously, this is boring, Syb." she called out.
Approaching from the hallway, Sybil leaned against the doorway and grimaced at the bloody mess across her marbled floors. "Since when were you a picky eater?"
"I still feel.. weak." she hissed back at her aunt. "He's not helping," she muttered to the dead body on the floor. "Neither is he." Dallas nodded to the other one. "Or him." The Garcia nodded to the third.
"You're becoming insatiable, Dallas." she frowned.
"No," Dallas glanced up. "It's the bad ones. Bad thoughts. They're filling." she placed the heel of her boot on the side of his face and turned his unconscious head to the side. "You know, the ones who have it coming."
Sybil wrapped her arms around herself and knitted her eyebrows together. "Well, where do we find people like that?"
Dallas pursed her lips and cocked her head to the side. "I believe Noah Stilinski has a list like that." she hummed. "I'll be doing everyone a favour, right?"
Sybil held a wicked glint in her eye. "Takes a monster to kill a monster?"
Dallas flickered her eyes back to her. "Exactly."
⊱ ──────ஓ๑♡๑ஓ ────── ⊰
Stiles Stilinski groaned aloud as his shoes became covered in mood and soot. He held his phone in one hand and used the other to steady himself over the police tape. His flashlight shone out from beneath his phone case while the remains of the burned down bar remained scattered around him. He wasn't sure what he was looking for. If he was looking for anything, in fact. He just knew he had to try.
The bones and corpses had been removed from the scene by the forensic team and Detectives. They had ruled out any signs of a homicide. Especially since a hut filled with both alcohol and heavy smokers was the perfect opportunity for disaster.
Stiles, on the other hand, found the timing a little suspicious. He kicked around the soot from the floor and ran a hand through his hair at the lack of support from his friends. Call him obsessed, but there was no way Beacon Hills was 'normal again'. It was never normal to begin with.
He continued to waft his flashlight around the floor with a determined huff. He was moments away from giving up. However, like a flash of hope, something glimmered underneath the light of his torch. It was hidden deep underneath inches of ash and mud and was barely bigger than the size of a penny.
The Stilinski stood an experimental step closer and knelt down into the ash while keeping his torch in hand. "What's-" he spoke mainly to himself as he dug his fingers through the dirt. "What the hell is this?"
The human placed it closer to the light source and felt a heavy ache settle in the deepest pits of his stomach. Covered in soot, mud and seemingly, blood was a scale.
Not a Kanima scale or a Pangolin scale. It was iridescent and held a green hue beneath its surface.
It was a Siren scale.
Feeling the world settle on his shoulders, Stiles dropped his head and clenched his hand up into a fist. She lied. Whether it was about her being there or her aunts, it didn't matter.
It was the work of Beacon Hill's merciless Sirens.
Flicking his phone up to his ear, Stiles ran his finger over the scale and sighed heavily. "Hey, it's uh.. It's Stiles. Stiles Stilinski." he murmured out. "I think I found something I wasn't supposed to.. and I don't know what to do. I figured you would."
"I don't think she knows I know." The Stilinski boy spoke once again. The voice answered slyly from his speakerphone until he responded once more. "No, I don't think anybody does."
He stared out to the empty, ash-ridden lot. "I was possessed," the boy cleared his throat. "I think I know what it looks like when you're not yourself." the silence wavered on for a couple of more moments. "I'll bring it to you now."
Shoving the scale into his pocket, Stiles stood up from the floor and winced at the sight.
"What the hell did you do, Dallie?"
☆ word count: 2,727. ☆
a/n: the drama? the angst? ugh, im obsessed.