It's dark. Too dark. I can feel the cool air cover my skin in goose bumps, a breeze coming off the small pool of water near me. Somewhere in the woods sits a small camper attached to a small car, lite up and obviously lived in. From the distance I can feel an animosity coming from the trailer, before the lights blink and go out. I jump slightly as the door opens and a man in a jacket appears, walking over to what looks like a generator just a few away.
Suddenly another man, covered in a full dark jacket and hood appears, speaking to the one that came from the camper.
Sean?
I feel chills rake my entire body as the delicate, but a fear filled voice flutters into my mind. I can feel it before it happens. That cold, hair standing up on the nape of your neck feeling. I take a step forward as the hidden face points up and a long reptilian tail comes down, wrapping around the neck of the other standing in front of him. Within seconds his body is ripped from the ground and taken from my view and I gasp as I catch view of the woman in the window of the camper.
The man abruptly points in her direction and without thought my feet move. I race against what feels like never ending time before ripping open the camper door. I jump as the limp body of the man is tossed through the window and her screams surround me. I try to race toward her, but it was like someone was locking me in place, feet unable to move. I watch as a scaled clawed hand reaches in. Slowly, the Kanima's body crawls over the broke glass on the table until he's cowering over the petrified woman.
My scream is frozen in my throat, and it seems as if neither of them are aware of my presence. I want nothing more to launch myself into the violence, especially once I see her pronounced baby belly.
She's pregnant.
But it seems like as soon as I take notice of this, so does the Kanima. I watched intently as he gazes as her belly, before turning and making direct eye contact with me.
The last thing I see are glowing reptile eyes before I burst.
I gasp and launch myself from the bed. What the hell was that? I wipe the tears from my face, trying to control my breathing. I feel my entire body covered in a cold sweat and in a feeble attempt to remedy the situation I stand and move towards the bathroom. Feeling unstable on my feet, I turn on the cold water before splashing some on my face.
I continue to calm my rapid breathing as a single purple flower sitting on the edge of the sink catches my attention. Wolfsbane. I feel my eyebrows cross as I reach out in curiosity, but the sudden burn when my skin makes contact makes me yank my hand back. I look down to see the faint red burns on the pads of my thumb and forefinger before they slowly beginning to heal. I look back down to see the single flower replaced.
By not two or three, but hundreds.
Covering the entire counter then as I take a step back and feel a slight burn on my foot I realize they are on the floor surrounding me. I feel my mind beginning to slip as my pulse increases. I try to center myself with a deep breathe, focusing on my reflection in front of me. Until the face of Peter Hale standing behind me causes me to lose all the air in my lungs. I feel a tear escape my eyes as I stand frozen, his canines extended right over the spot he bit me. As if he is teasing me.
WAKE UP.
My entire body jolts up, covered in a fine sheet of sweat. I can feel my face covered in tears, but the burning sensation in my thigh distracts me from it. I hastily pull back the covers to see the blade end of my switchblade buried deep in my upper thigh. I wince, noticing the single small purple petal sitting along the wound. I grit my teeth and wrap my hand around the handle of the small blade before pulling it out. I stare with teary eyes as the blood stops and the healing process seems to begin. My gaze searches my room, but like usual there is not a single thing out of place.
What the hell is happening to me?
☾ ✩ ☽
I blink away the tiredness from eyes, trying to focus on the three standing in front of me. There was no way I was able to sleep after I woke up from the nightmare in the early hours of this morning. I stand next to Stiles as Scott pulls a tablet from the bookshelf in the library. Allison stands on the other side, hiding from the cameras suddenly covering the school grounds, "It's everything Lydia can translate. And trust me, she was very confused."
Lightly turning the tablet towards me so I could see the translated and highlighted chapters on the screen. I nod with Scott as we both look over the words, "Yeah, what'd you tell her?"
"That we were part of an online gaming community that battles mythical creatures." I giggle and look over to Stiles knowing for a fact that he actually did such a thing.
He looks over to Allison with a somewhat dry expression, "I am part of an online gaming community that battles mythical creatures."
I can't help but let out a deep laugh at the surprised look on Allison's face. She forces a smile, but more like cringes, "Uh-good, okay."
"Okay, yes we all know Stiles is a little more on the cute nerdy side, but more importantly; does this say how to find out who's controlling Jackson?" I question, my eyes still trying to scan over the jumble of information on the screen in front of me. Ignoring Stiles' aspirated stare at my words, I cross my eyebrows trying to think about which freak in this town is out there using Jackass's reptile persona for their own gain. It's like something, the answer, is itching me just under the surface of my screen. But who?
Allison only shrugs while shaking her head negatively, "Not really. But Stiles was right about the murderers."
I look up between the three of them, but Stiles meets my eyes excitedly, "Wait what was Stiles right about?" I ignore him as he cheers silently to himself about being right. How did I ever end up here?
Allison points to the translated words before explaining, "It calls the Kanima a weapon of vengeance. There's a story in there about this South American priest who uses the Kanima to execute murderers in his village-"
Stiles cuts her off with a hopeful tone of voice, "All right, see? So maybe it's not all that bad."
Allison shakes her head as she continues with the bad news, "Until the bond grew strong enough that it killed whoever he wanted it to."
"Well that's great. In other words, we have a killing dream team on our hands. I don't see how this could end badly at all." I exhale, thinking about Jackass with his snake like scaled skin and creepy tail. A chill runs over my body as I think about him being in my house. In my room. He's even in my dreams for God's sake.
Stiles shakes his head nervously, "All bad, all very, very bad."
I send him a look before nodding and agreeing with his statement. Very bad indeed, Stiles.
"Here's the thing, though. The Kanima's actually supposed to be a werewolf. But it can't be-"
Scott looks down reading off the tablet as he finishes Allison's sentence, "Until it resolves that in its past which manifested it."
I cross my arms over my chest at their words, "Wait, so Jackson is this way because of something negative from his past? I mean I could have told you the guy has some serious problems he needs to sort out, but I didn't know they could cause this much damage."
Damaged past playing a part of what you are after the bite? Doesn't sound like something I want to base my own self identification problems on.
Allison's head pops up as an idea comes into her mind, "What if-," I look over to see the gears in her head working. "What if it has something to do with his parents? His real parents."
It was well known drama that Jackson was adopted, but what exactly happened to his birth parents isn't part of the story that I've ever heard. Scott nods along and looks over to Stiles and I, "Yeah, but does anybody actually know what happened to them?"
I shake my head unaware of anything about Jackass's life. I barley knew him. Which is why my Kanima visits and encounters are a little more than nerve racking. If I were Lydia I could see it making sense, but--Lydia. Wait.
"Lydia might know," I say suddenly looking back between the three of them solemnly, "She's the only person I've ever known to be even somewhat close to him. If he's told anyone about them, it's gotta be her."
I wind up leaving the library alone as we all split up. I make my way to my locker, hoping to grab my bag before the end of the day. I suddenly cough, feeling a weird tickle in the back of my throat. I feel annoyed as the tickle doesn't go away, but stop as I reach my destination. I clear my throat again as it increases, putting in my combination before pulling open the small metal door.
Scott's words cross my mind as I shuffle a few things around, looking for my small hoodie that must be hidden in my mess of papers and books.
Something bad happened in Jackson's past to make him what he is now. A scary little newt that awakens by someone else to go around his home town murdering people. What if something in mine did similar to me?
Suddenly my hands reaches up top my throat hastily. The tickle I felt abruptly turns into a much stronger pain. I wince and clench my neck even tighter as the sensation of something slowly making its way down, blocking my airway, continues to grow stronger. I take in a deep inhale and then realize. I'm not suffocating, but someone else is. I gasp at the familiar feeling tingles and shocks start at the tips of my fingers and race up my arms. Something is very wrong.
Locker Room.
The words are like a ghost of a whisper as it races across my mind, causing my feet to start walking in that direction. Absentmindedly I continue to follow the pull, leaving my locker door wide open in the empty hallway.
I feel my bag slide off my shoulder as I continue walking, as if something has taken a hold over me. The sound of it hitting the floor from the weight of my books doesn't stop me. I slow my pace as I near the mundane door and I notice it slightly cracked open. I reach out for the handle, noticing there isn't even the slightest tremble in my hand, despite my fear and confusion. Before my skin can make contact with the metal handle, I feel the pressure of something touching my shoulder.
Like someone suddenly dumped a bucket of ice cold water over my body I jump away, spinning around to face the last person I expect.
"Abby?" I look down to see the familiar camera hanging around his neck and the smile on his face. I don't even attempt a smile as I take a quick glance at the door still ajar behind me. Like a magnetic was attracting me towards it, pulling me, but I refrain from walking in. "Oh, hey...Matt, right?"
His smile widens and I'm glad I remember his name, otherwise this would have been even more awkward than it already is. "Yeah! What're you doing over here?"
I realize it probably looks very weird to onlookers like Matt that I'm about to walk into the guys locker room, but suddenly Scott face crosses my mind without warning, "Oh, I was looking for Scott. Thought he might be in there." I point over my shoulder to the room behind me.
I watch as the smile fades slightly at the mention of the name, "Oh. Scott. Isn't he dating your sister? You guys are around each other quite a lot."
I feel my eyebrows cross in confusion at the slight hostility of his words, "Uh, no. They broke up a few weeks ago." I don't elaborate any further, ignoring the twist I felt deep in my stomach. For a split second, it takes my attention of the room behind me. Something about the tone in his voice always seems to be off.
"Oh, really? Your sister must be upset, they seemed like the perfect match to me," Matt then looks down at his hands nervously, but the sound of something moving in the locker room behind me reminds me I need to be there.
Now.
Seemingly back on auto pilot I turn to leave, but Matt's hand locks around my wrist. I look down at his grip, expecting him to remove it, but instead it tightens slightly. "I heard- uh I heard about this rave on Friday night. I got a friend who can hook us up with tickets if you're down...want me to get you one?"
I hear another noise come from inside the locker room and my tingles intensify ten-fold. I removed my wrist from his grasp, not being able to shake the way his touch seems to make me feel cold. I hold back a shiver and nod my head, making brief eye contact with him, "Yeah, sure. Sounds fun. I've got to go find Scott, but I'll see you around."
"Yeah, cool, awesome. I'll see you soon, Abigail." Finally I turn, entering the door behind me before he can even take a step away. I feel the hair on the back of my neck stand up as I look around the dimly light room. It's quiet, except for a sound coming from the back...is that running water?
"Abigail?" The fear leaks away slightly and I sigh annoyed, realizing it's Jackson's voice. Of course it's him. I take a few more steps closer and when I turn the corner I see Jackson standing, naked, under the water.
I quickly avert my gaze and let out a gasp of surprise, "Hey, Jackass! You could have warned me."
Jackson lets out an oddly dark chuckle as he shuts the water off. I heave out another sigh as I hear him moving around and turn away, making sure I don't have to see anything I don't want to. Suddenly I feel him step closer to me, but before I can move his hand reaches out, grabbing a hold of my arm. "What the hell are you doing?" I look up and notice the distant and cold look in his eyes. My entire face falls and my breathing turns a little more shallow, "Jackson?"
"Oh, Abigail. What are we gonna do with you? You little mystery. That's what you are, isn't it? A mystery? Even to your own family," I feel the pain sting in my chest, but force it down. How the hell would he even know that?
Run.
I gasp at the voice as it echoes around my head. Without thinking I tug my arm and twist in his grasp, but it only tightens abnormally stronger. I hiss in pain and his head tilts patronizingly.
"What are you gonna do, hmm? When everyone you love turns on you? Your sister, your friends, your family, and your little high school crush on the big bad alpha? They killed your aunt, Abigail." I try to force his words to roll of me as he keeps ripping into me deeper and deeper. I throw my knee up and feel small satisfaction as he yanks back slightly. His dark look only grows more and he laughs lowly, wrapping his arm around my torso pulling me against his bare chest, too close to make another move.
"Or I guess, in hindsight, you actually killed her. What kind of person doesn't even choose her own family?"
With all my might I roughly start pulling my body away and twisting from him, trying to escape his hold, but it tightens immensely, "Shut the hell up. You don't know anything about me."
I let out a gasp of pain as his grip on my wrist becomes so tight my skin turns a light shade of purple. I cringe and try to move away when I feel his lips press against my ear, "I just-I just really hope your dad taught you how to protect yourself, Abigail." I squeeze my eyes shut and instantly a familiar pair of supernatural amber eyes flash across my mind.
Help me.
Without thinking, the words echo loudly inside my head. This time it's my own voice ringing out, leaving m slightly shocked. It was almost painfully loud, ear ringing, but I still know no one will hear it. I feel anger at myself for even calling out for help. I take in a panicked breath as I feel the arm around my waist move lower. Unfortunately for Jackson, I can protect myself. Or at least try hard as hell.
"You're in luck...because he did, Jackass." I throw my head back, and with our height difference, feel it come in contact with his throat. A chocking sound comes from his mouth and his grip lightens just enough for me to slip out and turn slightly. I let my knee fly up once again, this time meeting his groin before I fully spin around, booking it back towards the door.
I want to scream out in relief as my small hand grips the handle with dear life. Instead, a hard breath leaves my mouth and I feel panic when the handle turns, but the door doesn't budge.
Get out. NOW.
I yank the handle harder, and am shocked when I feel it actually give slightly under my grip, but still doesn't move less than an inch, as if there is some kind of invisible force holding it in place. I gasp when a rough hand locks onto my arm before yanking me backwards and I land roughly on the ground. I ignore the slight pain on the side of my head as it hits the tile floor, pushing against Jackson's chest as he climbs over my body, "Get the hell off me!"
Suddenly the door is thrown open and a loud growl fills the room. A sigh of pure relief escapes my body as I feel Scott's presence near me. Jackson's eyes suddenly meet mine and the cloudiness mixed with darkness dissipates, "Abby? What's happening?"
I push his chest and he falls off my body, onto the floor next to me. I try to ignore the look of confusion he's casting my way...does he not remember any of that? I feel Scott rush over and I grab his hand as he pulls me up from the floor. I notice Allison behind him and she rushes over to me.
I just pull the sleeve of my top down to hide the already deep bruise on my wrist. It'll be gone within a few hours, just like the rest. Jackson's eyes suddenly become enraged as he realizes who's standing directly above him, "Hey, you cant be here. I have a restraining order!"
I let out an angered huff, but before I can speak Scott beats me to, "Trust me, I'm restraining myself."
I watch as a fight ensues and Allison pulls me further away and closer to the door. Before I know it, Scott and Jackson have thrown each other across the room multiple times and then through the door, into the hallway. I rush out, but am stopped when I see Harris standing there angrily, "What the hell's going on?! Enough! What do you idiots think you're doing?" I look between the two boys as they glare deeply at each other, "Jackson! Calm down! Mr. McCall, you wanna explain yourself?" I look to my right to see Stiles standing there out of nowhere. He says I'm the one who just appears out of no where? "Stilinski! Argent!"
My eyes don't meet Harris's at all, instead focusing on something else near me. Matt reaches over and hands Allison her tablet, hopefully not noting the weird symbols and definitions on the screen, "You dropped this." When his eyes immediately shift from my sisters to mine, I look back down to the tile. The last thing I want is for him to think I was observing more than I need to. Something about the boy gave this...feeling.
My attention is grasped again as Harris's voice cuts through and he points to each of us individually, "You and you, actually, all of you-detention. Three o'clock."
I groan and throw my head back at the idea of sitting in a room with these people for hours. Today has turned out pretty terrible, but what else could I expect living in Beacon Hills?