it was cold, bitter weather as it usually is in the fall. and so the screaming begins; making my head pound. someone is about to play a game, one with death. I begin to scream unable to control my shrieks when my conscience comes to my aid, asking if I am okay. as usual, I say yes. I am incapable of ridding my power. I am a harpenter, a harpenter of death. all banshees are.
⚠️not part of chapter⚠️
later on the book will change from first person to third, it's just the writing style, it will be relevant later on! enjoy(:
YOU ARE READING
The End Cure
FanfictionLydia bowed her head in the jeep. "she's dead." she whispered. "she's dead." "who?" stiles was worried putting his arms around her. "All of them." I do not own these characters except for 2// all credit to the amazing Jeff Davis
