Lost Cause » Void Stiles

00; pretty little psycho

[Gore, a bit of violence & (one) animal death ahead, although it isn't too descriptive; but please don't say I didn't warn you. It's not that bad, but it might bother some people. I may have made her a little crazier than my initial intentions.. But hey, her love interest is a thousand year old fox hiding in Stiles' head, so uh- crazy should fit right in.]

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Everyone had a breaking point.

At least, that's what the doctors told Lita, amidst the non-stop spiel of questions thrown at her throughout the week following her arrival at Eichen House. From six-a.m, until the wave of fatigue brought on by dusk forced the doctors to retire; the fifteen year old was never, not even for a second, left to organize her thoughts & straighten out her story in complete & utter loneliness. Not to mention the lack of silence, as doctors repeated identical questions time & time again, up until Lita would scream her throat raw with an array of curses.

It was a temporary fix; but the ring in her ears from the shrill high pitch of her own voice was enough to block them out for a few coveted minutes per day. She intentionally remained quiet until she couldn't withstand another second, allowing herself time to heal overnight & through the morning. Lita hated losing her voice; it meant she couldn't block them out, and it meant the doctors had won; for the day, at least.

Lita thought of it as a competition.

Whoever broke first, they were the loser; and while the brunette had a knack for screaming her lungs out on a day-to-day basis, the doctors had yet to find a particular subject to trigger her breaking point. Lita couldn't be bothered to tell them that they were wasting their time, it was entertaining to watch them squirm uncomfortably as she described each riveting detail of the day she killed her brother's pet dog. Wes loved that stupid animal; but Lita was more than certain that she loved gutting it even more. She would've preferred it to have suffered more, but once she cut out it's heart; the poor creature was long gone.

Even five years later, Lita still remembered it like she'd done it yesterday. The feeling of a beating heart in her hand, slowly fading away as the warm blood ran down her arms. Something about the way it looked, the various lines dripping down as if they were brushes painting a picture on canvas; it was a work of art. As was the design on her once white t-shirt, which had been stained with red splatters. The deep shade of crimson had always been a favourite to Lita; whether it be on the walls, or slowly pouring from the lifeless corpse of her brother's best friend.

The smell was the most vivid of her memories; the metallic tinge in the air, filling her lungs with each breath. It made her throat constrict in rejection at first, but once she grew accustomed to it; the scent of a fresh kill couldn't be topped by anything. The beauty of it was, no matter how many times her mother scrubbed the concrete floor; Lita's painting refused to fade, and the soothing blood scent remained as strong as ever. Though, that was more than likely because she'd hidden the heart (her favourite of the organs she'd discovered while butchering the dog) in the drain, which unbeknownst to the Mitchell parents, had a loose board that opened up a hole just big enough to drop a vital organ through.

Lita was still phenomenally proud of her smarts & quick thinking; after all, she'd only been ten at the time. She was merely curious of what a real heart looked like; and since Wes brushed the question off as if it were nothing, she took the liberty of using his dog as her own little experiment. He'd been neglecting the poor animal, anyway; it was miserable. Wes had been too busy with his new crowd of friends, spending his days higher than the clouds & essentially brain-dead to the world. Getting him out of the house when he was supposed to be keeping an eye on her was too easy.