THE NIGHT WAS silent as Beck rolled over in her bed. The glow from her fairy lights twinkled against the walls, casting strange shadows. Aristotle laid on his windowsill asleep, keeping watch over his master.
Suddenly, the black cat's bright blue eyes snapped open as he sat at attention. Releasing a meow, Aristotle jumped down, landing on Beck's chest before jumping again.
At the sudden attack, Beck sat up with a scream, hand shooting out in defense. Her light green eyes searched the room for danger, but only found Aristotle scratching at the door, meowing hysterically.
"Aristotle?" Beck yawned, struggling out of her bed before opening her door. Bolting out of the crack, Aristotle gave another meow before darting down the hall. "Aristotle, what is it?" Beck called as she followed her familiar.
Aristotle stopped in front of Stiles's door, circling and meowing as he glanced up at the wood.
Instantly, Beck was put on edge. She had just had it again, that dark vision of Stiles. It had been happening for a week now, ever since mischief night. A dark feeling would fill Beck at those visions, making her uneasy and sometimes forcing her to wake.
Slowly, Beck opened the door, peeking in. "Stiles? Are you okay?" Beck whispered as she looked towards the bed. But it was empty. Except for a pair of scissors stabbed into the mattress. From the handle of the scissors, thousands of strands of red string were tied to it, each leading to a random point on Stiles's wall.
Yet Beck wasn't focused on how weird the scene looked. She was focused on the fact that Stiles wasn't there. She knew Stiles had gone to bed, he practically kicked her out of the bathroom to get ready. Their arguing made Stilinski break them apart before leaving for his shift at the station.
"Stiles?" Beck called, glancing around the room. Empty. "Stiles?" Beck called again, turning on her heels toward the closed bathroom door. "Stiles, are you in there?" Beck asked as she knocked on the door. No response. "Stiles?" Beck opened the door. Empty. "Stiles!"
Panicking, Beck rushed down the stairs, calling for Stiles. But there was no response. There was no one else in the house.
Rushing back up the stairs to her room, Beck grabbed her phone and called the only person she could think of.
Scott.
"Stiles!" Scott answered after one ring, panic in his voice.
"Scott, he's-he's gone, I don't know where he is," Beck rushed, on the verge of crying from her panic. "Aristotle woke me and... and he sensed something and Stiles... he's gone."
"Beck, I know. He called me a couple of minutes ago. Just take a deep breath." Scott instructed over the line. Beck nodded her head, breathing in and out as she listened to Scott. "Isaac and I are on our way over to start searching. I need you to perform your locator spell. See if you can't narrow down Stiles's location."
"A locator spell? Scott that won't help, I only see the doors the person's behind, not the exact location." Beck gasped, shaking her head as if the werewolf could see her.
"Beck, I need you to try, please. This is Stiles we're looking for. He's hurt and cold and scared. We need to find him fast." Scott begged.
"He's hurt?" Beck whimpered, images of Stiles injured flashing through Beck's mind, making the small blonde bite her lip. "I'll... I'll try."
"Thank you, Beck. We'll be there in a minute."
YOU ARE READING
Golden Dandelions|Teen Wolf
Fanfiction"An alpha that leads by fear will only receive fear. But an alpha that leads with love and respect will earn a pack that will follow them into any battle, no matter what." "Are you trying to tell me something?" "I'm trying to tell you you're an a...
