Rose || Stiles Stilinski¹

Twenty-Seven✖️

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       Ophelia's eyes opened wide, her eyes coming in contact with a large knife. Her arm shot out of the ICE bath and latched around the blade to stop it from impaling her. Using her other hand, she grabbed the persons wrist, pulling down far enough to smack her head against his. Sitting up she gasped for air as she looked around to find her friends being held by a group of men.

Her anger spiked and the windows shattered as branches grew, wrapping themselves around the men and pulling them away from the pack. Creating a fist, the branches tightened their hold and when she pulled her hand back, they crushed the men, leaving them limp.

Turning her attention back to the man who had tried to kill her, she slowly slipped out of the tub, her feet hitting the cold floor. She walked towards him as he looked at her wide eyes. He knew who she was, what she was so, using the flight in his fight or flight instinct, he bolted towards the back exit, but was stopped and something wrapped around his neck. When his hands went to help himself, he realized nothing was there.

Ophelia's hand was out, cupped in a C as she turned him around to face her. She smiled as her C closed up. Hearing footsteps runaway behind her she raised her other hand, lifting the person off the ground before slamming him into the table. Focusing back on the large man she flicked her wrist and his neck snapped in half.

"Who are you?" She asked the man, stopping in front of him to crouch to his level.

"You were always so beautiful."

She smiled and unexpectedly wrapped a hand around his throat, "Who. Are. You."

The man choked out his words, "You...you were always his favorite." The words struck a nerve in the girl. She released him and stood up, having a branch wrap around the man to hold him up and she spun around.

"Rose?" She heard, lifting her head, she came in contact with her the pack. Relief flooded her but she didn't move when she realized she had killed 7 men in front of them.

"Hi" she whispered.

Stiles stepped forward, looking at her as if she wasn't real. He was so scared that the man had actually killed her, that he thought he imagined her in front of him. When she didn't disappear, he ran forward and kissed her desperately.

Ophelia gasped in surprised but melted into his touch. Going through her memories felt like she'd been gone for years and she missed his touch.

"You're okay! You're really here!" He cried out.

The rest of the pack came running towards, engulfing her in a group hug.

"You're back!"

"We thought we lost you!"

"Did it work?" Deaton asked.

The girl nodded, "It worked. I remember everything." Turning around she stood in front of the man again. "But you...you I don't remember."

"We've never had the pleasure of meeting."

"Then how do you know me?"

"Being his favorite makes you quite popular. We've been searching for you for three years now."

"He's dead."

"Is he?"

"I saw the pictures."

"You saw what we wanted you guys to see."

Having enough, she grabbed the scalpel from the table and pressed it against his neck, "What do you want from me?"

"You're going to kill me?"