Chaos Returns

12

Stiles

A shiver runs down my spine, and it's not from the wet shirt on my back.

I know that whistle.

How do I know that whistle?

Stop being a pussy, Stiles.

Gee, sorry. I hiss. Like you said, I don't plan on dying tonight, Void.

You're fine, just get out there and kill them. Whoever it is. They have a bow, you have me.

You think so highly of yourself. I almost smile, but then our attacker whistles again. I groan. Fuck it. I step out of the shadows, revealing myself to the hooded figure in front of me. They see my instantly, raising their bow and aiming. I breath in, their scent somewhat familiar. When they release the arrow, I manage to stop it before it hits me between the eyes. I look past the shaft and my hand gripping it to glare at them. 

At her. 

She knocks another arrow, drawing the string, and firing. I dodge it, swerving slightly to the right and letting it breaze past before I start moving towards her. She shoots another, the sharp point grazing my neck but hitting the wall behind me. I see her dark hair slip out from under her hood as I swat away the next one, sending it scattering across the concrete floor. With blood dripping down my neck, I advance. And once we're close enough to touch, I shove her hard into the pillar she had backed into. She drops her bow, wincing when she hits the hard surface. 

And not thinking clearly, I send my fist flying into her darkened face. She crumples to the ground, staying there for a few seconds as she regains her boundaries. Only then does she look up.

Only then does her hood come off. 

I stumble back in shock. 

It is as if someone has taken a knife to my heart, twisted it, and then pulled it out.

"Allison?" I choke out, not believing my own eyes. 

"Stiles." She says harshly, a bruise beginning to form on her cheek. She starts to stand, a scowl on her face. Her expression on of hatred. Pain. Suffering. She looks angry. As I stare at her, I find myself at a loss for words. I can only watch as she picks her bow up. She smells of chilli powder and cinnamon. She smells of pure anger. But there's another scent, one not coming from her. 

Vanilla?

"I- I thought-" I stutter, staring at her with wide eyes.

I thought you were dead.

She smirks, knowing what I wanted to say. "You thought wrong."

"But how-" my words falter as I start to feel dizzy. The world begins to sway, the colours becoming blended before me. I feel light, like I'm swimming. My toes tingle and my fingers are numb. Once I realize what's happening, I begin to fall. I hit the ground without feeling it, and once I'm laying there, I find myself unable to move. I can't do anything as Allison Argent crouches over me, that wicked grin spread across her face. "Kanima venom." I mutter, remembering the arrow that had nicked my neck. "Nicely done."

"Why thank you." She cocks her head, smiling. "But it wasn't my idea."

"Where's Scott." I ask, annoyed with myself. "I know he's here with you."

"You have it all wrong sweetheart." She giggles, but it's not the girly type of giggle, it's one that makes my hair stand on end, makes my blood go cold. And in this moment, I'm scared of her. I've never liked the feeling of fear, no one ever does. I like to have people fear me, and I know what she is feeling right now, that sense of validation. The same feeling I used to get when looking down on Scott, the most powerful alpha in recent history. She pushes hair away from my eyes with her pale fingers. "Scott's not here right now. But that's what we have you for, is it not?" She says cooly. "You're the bait, Stiles."

"Yeah, good luck with that. Him and I are not really on good terms right now." I try to keep my voice even. 

"That's what you think." She rises, circling me. "See, all he wants is his best friend back, Stiles. All he wants is you. It won't take much to convince him that Void is gone for good. He's desperate, he'll believe anything with enough proof."

"Why do you want him?"

She stops walking. "Revenge."

"On Scott?" I ask, scoffing. "He wasn't the one who killed you. We did. If you want revenge on someone, take it on us."

"What?" She looks at me, genuinely confused. And it is then, in the fair moonlight, that I realize that she looks the same. Her skin is young, not a single wrinkle on her face like there should be if she wasn't supernatural. Her hair isn't greying, it's silky and dark, the exact same as it was when I saw her last. When she was dying in Scott's arms. 

She's still a teenager. 

I try to make sense of it, running through options in my head.

Am I hallucinating? 

No, Stiles. Void answers.

Then how-

I don't know how. He says. I have no idea.

She's young. She still looks 17.

I see that. 

"You think Scott killed you?" I ask her, confusing myself. Her brows knit, then she look off to something behind me. I hear the shuffle of feet, light footsteps, an approaching female. 

"Did Scott kill me?" Her question is directed at the woman behind me. Out of the corner of my eye I see something shiny and black being raised. "Answer me!" Allison cries, clearly flustered. "Was it him?" 

I hear a click. 

A gun. 

"Allison!" I yell for her, but it's too late. The bang resonates off the walls, the echo so loud I wish I could have covered my ears. I watch as my friend falls, the bullet wound placed in the same place as it had been on my wife's. She hits the ground, her eyes open and staring at me. Through me. I choke on my shock, staring as the blood drips slowly from the hole in her forehead. 

I want to stand, to turn my head, to see who it was that fired the gun. But I can't. I can't move. I can't do anything. I can't take my gaze from Allison, from her glassy eyes. 

And when the woman struck the butt of the gun to my temple, knocking me out, I didn't mind.