♡ 𝙩𝙖𝙨𝙩𝙚 𝙤𝙛 𝙮𝙤𝙪 ♡
𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘱𝘵𝘦𝘳 thirty-one.
void.
─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───
DALLAS WAS AN ATTENTIVE GIRL. SHE HAD BEEN HER WHOLE LIFE.
She seemed to notice things other people didn't. Dallas noticed the change in perfume the day her mother left. Just as she noticed Scott McCall's odd behaviour at the beginning of last year.
And now, she noticed how Stiles Stilinski seemed distant. Even as he was now, sat beside her listing the Star Wars movies that she just had to see. He liked to pretend it wasn't noticeable. Brushing off the bags underneath his eyes and his irritable behaviour as simple school stress.
The Siren knew better.
A few days before, Scott had already informed the pack of the new threat hitting Beacon Hills. Masked hunters made of coal smoke with frightening yellow eyes - hunters that were searching for something. Or rather, someone. Still, nobody was really sure what it entailed.
Her thumping train of thoughts came to a long pause as she felt his hand drop on her thigh and his brown eyes connect hers under his furrowed brows. "Hey, you okay?"
She pushed the sickly feeling of dread into her stomach and lay her hand on his. "Yeah, no. I'm fine." she dropped her gaze to his knuckles and traced her finger along them. "I noticed that you didn't get much sleep the other night."
He shot her a sheepish grin. "Yeah, thanks to you."
Dallas rolled her eyes and shot him a semi-serious face. "No, after that." She swallowed dryly and rose her hand to his face before grazing her thumb under his eye. "You're taking care of yourself, aren't you?"
The Stilinski kept his dazed stare at the foggy road ahead before sighing heavily. "You're worrying over nothing." The last thing he wanted was to worry her, but she was persistent. She poked holes in his tedious lies and tore at the vail he placed over her eyes.
She clenched her jaw as her eyes bore into his familiar features. "Stiles, please don't start our relationship by lying to me." She knew she was being forceful - relentless even. Yet, she didn't care about that. Dallas didn't bother about the insecure thought of being overbearing as his health was the only thing that mattered to her. "You don't have to throw yourself in the deep end just to please the pack, you know?"
Stiles clenched the steering wheel before making a turn. The veins popped out from his hand and his knuckles seemed stained red. "I know." he gave her an appreciative smile. "But it's not that."
She waited for him to speak again as he parked the car in front of her house and leaning back in his seat. "I just keep having these nightmares. I feel like I'm not in control of my own body anymore."
Dallie's face contorted into a frown. She had never seen him so vulernable. Considering how much he had seen and been through, it made her heart sink that something like that affected him so badly. "Have you not spoken to Derek about it? Maybe he knows something."
"Dal, Derek absolutely loathes everyone except you." He snickered. "I don't think I'm on the same level with him as you are. I'll just swing by the hospital later and see if they can give me anything."
He noticed how worry laced across her face and how her eyes glanced up at him with an uncertain expression from underneath her fluttery lashes. "You promise?"
Stiles bit back a smile and felt his chest drown in warmth. She had a proclivity to protect him nowadays. Even when he didn't need it - and even when he felt like it should've been the other way around. "I promise." he hummed. "Now go, cause your dad is giving me death stares from your window."
Dallas furrowed her eyebrows and turned her head to the side. Just as he claimed, James Garcia stood in the window with a mug in his hand and his eyes narrowed at the Stilinski's jeep. She snickered as shook her head at him before turning back to the human. "Yeah, that'd probably be a wise choice." she paused. "I'll see you later."
As she attempted to step out of the vehicle, the human gently tugged at her wrist and pulled her towards him. He planted a harsh kiss on her lips while one hands wrapped around her waist. The other got caught up in her hair as his eyes squeezed shut. It wasn't until she pulled away did they open once more.
"Stiles!" she hissed, smacking him on the shoulder. "My dad is right there."
He cleared his throat and tried to hold his composure. "Right, yeah. Sorry."
Dallas grinned at his awkwardness and rolled her eyes. "Bye Stiles." she sang, successfully taking a step from his jeep and onto the cold pavement. He didn't respond, but simply lay his chin on his steeringwheel and gazed at her through the windscreen. Stiles gazed at her a little too long for it to be just another love of many. Whenever he held her, he never dreamt of letting go. Whenever she wasn't around, he was always thinking of her. Whenever he told a simple joke, he'd glance at her to make sure he made her laugh. Even without saying it - he knew that he was in love with her.
As she disappeared behind the walls of her home, he sat back in his chair once more and glanced up at the rearview mirror. His eyes bore into the reflection as his stare became more menacing. The Stilinski's endearing expression dropped as his jeep roared back to life before he finally tore his eyes away and sped from the street.
⊱ ──────ஓ๑♡๑ஓ ────── ⊰
Stiles Stilinski stood before Melissa McCall, his arms slouched over the desk as the woman ran her fingers over her keyboard. "Do you want to try waiting for one of the urgent care doctors or-"
The boy shook his head in dismay, dropping his gaze to the floor as heavy breaths left his mouth. The nurse gave him a worried look and stood up from her desk. "Stiles?" His eyes became bloodshot as he took a few steps backward. "Are you alright?"
His breaths became shaky as he mumbled out an answer. "I don't know." he paused. "I mean. Not really."
Melissa nodded along with him. She was careful not to worry the boy as she attempted to comfort him. "All right, kiddo." The McCall placed her hand on his back as she led him down the hall. "It's okay, come with me."
The bright lights burned his eyes and the empty white halls made him feel uneasy. She pulled him aside into another room. It was lit up with large windows and ceilings lights. Only the long curtain that hung beside the bed that he sat on that offered any darkness and peace. Stiles took a seat, hunching over and running his fingers over his knuckles just as Dallas did. Sadly, it wasn't as comforting as it was when she did it.
"Okay," Melissa pulled a pen and clipboard from the drawer and turned her back to him. "Do you mind listing your symptoms for me?"
Stiles nodded along. "Uh, blackouts." he began. He watched as she nodded along and scribbled them down onto the paper. "But not for that long. Sleepwalking, which I used to do a lot as a kid." he paused, wracking his brain for everything that had been terroising it lately. "Also having some really bad anxiety."
The nurse flickered her eyes to him. "Panic attacks?"
"Yeah, a couple." Stiles nodded along. "Oh, and I temporarily lost the ability to read... but that might have had more to do with this giant magic tree and a whole human sacrifice thing."
"How many hours of sleep are you getting?" the older McCall queered.
"Eight." he answered within seconds.
She continued scribbling her pen across the paper and continued. "A night?"
Stiles let his gaze wander around the room. "In the last three days."
Melissa dropped her pen and stared in his direction. He counted on his shaky fingers and swallowed. "Yeah, definitely eight."
She dropped the clipboard and pulled a needle from the drawer, filling it with an unknown substance. "Been feeling irritable?"
"Yeah." Stiles chewed on his nails. "Possibly to the point of homicide."
"Inability to focus?"
"No." he shook his head. "The Adderall's not working."
"Impulsive behaviour?"
That one he knew for sure. Mainly because it acted up in either moments of rage, or in the company of his beloved girlfriend. "More than usual? Hard to tell."
Melissa continued wiping down the needle as she questioned him. "Vivid dreams during the day?"
"Okay, basically all of the above." Stiles gave her a skeptical look as she finally stood before him with a large needle in hand. "Do you know what this is?"
"I think so." Melissa nodded along.
He glared down at the needle and swallowed. "So, uh, whats that?"
She pulled up his sleeve with her gloved hands and replied. "Do you trust me?"
"When you're not holding a needle." he attempted to make light of the situation but it didn't hold much weight.
The woman chuckled. "It's Midazolam." she flicked the tip of the needle before burying it in his arm. "A sedative."
Stiles quickly drew dreary and knitted his thick eyebrows. "Why'd you give me a sedative?"
"Because you, Stiles, are one profoundly sleep-deprived young man." she spoke in a stern voice. "You need rest and you need it now. Lie down."
"Okay, how long's it take to-" he trailed off, noticing how blurry the room became. "Oh, not long at all."
Melissa helped lie him down against the pillow before pulling the sheet over him. "Get some rest." she said softly, laying her hand on his head.
"Thank's mom." he mumbled out, barely awake. Melissa McCall frowned at his behaviour, one that she saw similar in both Dallas Garcia and Isaac Lahey. A missing parent effected them all in different ways and they all seemed to seek different comforts - but in the end, they all shared one thing in common. They trusted her. It was something that warmed and broke her heart at the same time.
She flicked the switch of the lamps beside him before sighing heavily. "Goodnight, Stiles."
⊱ ──────ஓ๑♡๑ஓ ────── ⊰
Dallas Garcia sat in her bedroom, her eyes rumagging through the words of the page that spread out on her laptop. Maneating monsters stained the pixels as fishtail accompanied them. Each word she read made her sick to the stomach. Everytime she closed her eyes all she could see was the vicious storm and the sight of her nails dug into the fisherman. She shook her head as if her thoughts were a simple liquid she could shake out of her ear, but alas, the sight never wavered. She slammed her laptop shut and ran her hands over her face.
While fiddling with her golden necklace, the Siren cocked her head at the flickering light in the hall. Her bedroom door was wide open and welcomed the darkness and shadows through. Dallas tossed the device to the side and stood up, inching closer towards the door.
A cold gust of wind broke through which made the goosebumps rise on her arms. Her delicate hands brushed against the cold walls as she slowly reached the doorway.
She stuck her head outside, but saw nothing but empty carpeted hall and faux light. The Siren knew how on edge she had been recently and brushed it off as nothing before turning back around. However, instead of the warm welcome of her fairy lights, the masked figure stared back,
His eyes glowed with an intense neon yellow while his fists clenched in their gloves. He attempted to grab her by the throat, but she ducked out of the way. Over the summer, Derek Hale had finally taught his goddaughter the basics of combat - especially since her taser couldn't protect her from everything.
She narrowed her eyes and aimed her fist towards his face, but he grabbed it last minute and jolted it sideways before tossing her into her vanity. Her mirror smashed upon impact, slicing at her cheek and dripping with crimson blood. Instead of fear, her bloodstream boiled with rage.
Dallas turned towards him, pulling a knife from one of her drawers. She clenched the handle between her blood-soaked fingers. Yet, before she could make another move, two more masked men appeared from the shadows. They grasped at her arms and pinned them beside her. Her chest rose and fell as the third one glanced around her room. The creature noticed how the water materialised from the air and swirled around the ceiling lights, causing sparks and jolts of electricity. Her eyes gleamed white and her teeth poked out from underneath her pinkish lips ready to tear at anything they could get ahold of.
She struggled against the creature's grip, the leather of their gloves digging in and burning at her skin. Each step the third one took, the worse her anxiety got. She wondered if this was how she'd die - at the hands of masked spirits in the comfort of her own home. However, when he placed his leather-clad hands on the side of her face, the whites of her eyes faded back to their homey brown. His golden eyes grew brighter behind his mask as he placed one hand behind her ear. As he stared into her soul, the sparks grew worse.
He didn't attack her out nowhere, he was marking her. Whatever it was, it was making sure she wasn't the one they were after.
And she wasn't.
He pulled his hand from her face and sliced behind her ear. Dallas dropped to the floor and from her blurry vision, she watched the trio disappear from her sight. Moments later, she managed to catch a glimpse of her father pounding up the stairs. Rainwater coated his jacket and hair as he dropped to the floor to her.
"Dallas?" he yelled out. Almost as if he knew, he pushed the hair back from behind her ear and swallowed harshly. Stamped freshly on her young skin was the number five. The hunters had marked everyone - except one. "You're alright kid. It's okay." he mumbled out, wrapping his arms around her and staring out the darkness. Deep down, he had a suspicion about who it was they were searching for. Only now was it officially confirmed.
⊱ ──────ஓ๑♡๑ஓ ────── ⊰
Stiles Stilinski awoke to darkness. He ran his hands over his face as the refreshed feeling entered his bones. He noticed the lack of light and staff before confusion overtook his face. "What the?" he trailed off, standing up. His body felt heavy on his legs and each step he took felt odd, but he tred to the door anyways. The boy pulled against the heavy patient room door and slid through. Although, the hallways were completely empty. Not a sound to be heard or a face to be seen. "Melissa?" he called out but no response came.
He wasn't sure how long he walked for, but he eventually came to the emergency exit. The Stilinski stiffened up as he felt a presence behind him. Two, in fact. They snarled in his direction which made him whip his head to them. Stiles took a step back and attempted to run through the exit, but came face to face with the leather-clad spirit. He stumbled backwards as it taunted him by taking large steps his way.
His head pounded just as hard as his heartbeat did and his breathing fell heavy. It reached for his face, but his hand harshly gripped at it's wrist. He glanced towards it with wide eyes, seemingly shaking with both fear and rage before turning back to the creature. The expression in his eyes changed to something much more malevolent as the hunter shook under his strength. Stiles then pulled one hand back and buried it into the spirit's chest. An eruption of yellow light blinded the men behind him until the Nogitsune jolted his hand back. In the palm of his hand lay a singular dead firely while the spirit faded into dust.
With a wicked look on his face, he gradually spun around to the other two spirits. They backed away from him as they came to a terrifying relisation. They had been hunting for the Dark Kitsune. The Nogitsune. The Void.
And they had found him.
They nodded to each other before charging his way, but the Nogitsune left nothing but gaping holes in their chest.
Nearby, Scott McCall investigated around the hospital for his best friend and halted when he heard the heavy thud. "Stiles?" he spoke from the doorway, unaware of what horror had overtook his best friend. "Are you okay?"
The Stilinski dropped his expression and raised his brows at the werewolf. "Yeah, fine." he gave him a confused look. "What's been going on?"
As the two passed through the emergency exit, Scott McCall failed to notice the dead firefly on the floor. Or rather, the dead spirit. The one Stiles had killed. As the waft of air from the doors brushed against the floor, it descended into dust.
☆ word count: 2,902. ☆
a/n: void stallas void stallas void stallas-