For Carson Bradley, Stiles Stilinski, and Scott McCall, they were used to having a Plan B. This time, however, they were merely pawns in a far more deadly game.
(season 3, book 3)
(no longer updating)
NOTE:Trigger warning for this chapter. Do not read if you're unsure. Seriously, I don't want any of you guys risking anything if you're not sure. If need be pm me, and I'll be happy to give a brief summary of what went down.
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SEVENTEEN POISONOUS MINDS
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The buzzing of fluorescent lights embedded in the sign that read Motel Glen Capri was the only thing that was capable of cutting through the thoughts running rampant through Carson Bradley's head.
Although, despite what the small sign said below the name of the seedy motel, she was not enjoying here stay. In fact, she was not enjoying anything. It had been mere minutes since her mother had appeared to her in the bathroom, simply a trick of the light. But although it was a figment of Carson's imagination, the corrupted ideas that had been implanted in her head were not.
She was worthless.
She was not important.
It would be better off if she just didn't exist.
So, back in the bathroom, she had swapped out her towel for her t-shirt and cotton pajama shorts. Carson had managed to get out of the room without Isaac questioning anything. When she had exited the bathroom, he hadn't even been in the room. She hadn't noticed during her mother's visit in the bathroom that the door to the motel room had opened and closed, Isaac making his way down the ramp to another room. All that had been left in his wake was the static-ridden television.
Carson now found herself outside, barefoot and hair still dripping, making her way across the metal ramp that was attached to the second story of the building. The way she moved was almost zombie like, as if she was in a dream. Her expression was zoned out, eyes simply glancing in the direction she was heading. Every footstep made a concerning clang on the metal and every drop that cascaded down from her hair sounded like a thunderstorm in her ears every time it hit the floor.
But the sounds were not enough to shake her, to cause her to wake up from the trance-like state she was in. Deep down a part of her knew that this was somehow all a trap but that small part was constantly outnumbered by every toxic thought to slip into her state of conscious.
The tattoo that was emblazoned on her side, the same one that said to keep breathing and keep fighting, was long forgotten as her state of mind was poisoned.
At the end of the ramp, she spotted a set of stairs, more like a fire escape than anything. It led to the roof of the motel, which began formulating an even darker plan in Carson's mind. The roof would be high enough to cause serious bodily harm if one was to jump off it and potentially irreversible injuries could be caused as well. Like the injuries that were so fatal, not even the werewolf curse running through her veins could turn back around. She hadn't been sure of how to execute this entire thing, but the rooftop only seemed to solidify what was going to happen tonight.
