From Ashes ✗ Stiles Stilinski [#𝟏]

𝐏 𝐑 𝐎 𝐋 𝐎 𝐆 𝐔 𝐄

This story is hereby dedicated to one of my favorite canines who was judged unfairly by human beings and paid the ultimate price. "Not all monsters do monstrous things." Rest in peace, Sarge.

Speak out against pit bull prejudice and violence before it's too late.

Also, to my own dog, who fought through her pain and showed an insurmountable bravery in the face of mortality. "If nothing we do matters, then all that matters is what we do." Rest in peace, Kharma.

And yes, I am aware Alisha Boe was in a later season of Teen Wolf. I choose not to acknowledge any information that will be "fixed" later on in the series anyway.

Song Recommendation ["Starvation" - Thomas Bergersen]
NOTE: For the full experience, I do personally suggest seeking out each song rec.

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If you all think this isn't a direct result of fandoms lecturing me about how all original character fics are terrible for the last 17 years, I don't know what to tell you at this point.

Write what you would like to read, because I didn't regret a moment of this.

☽ † ☾

Monsters waited at the edge of the woods and Maddie knew how the night would end, so she ran.

Her lungs burned in a way she would miss as she sprinted away from everything she knew, from the power that once coursed through her veins and how often it scared her the past nine years. She left the girls just like her, all three thousand of them with the same fears and fate, somewhere far behind her.

Into every generation...

No one could say how far she was from the school or how close she was to the edge of Beacon Hills Preserve. She had no idea how long she was running but treasured the solid sound of her boots hitting the packed dirt path, every step an ellipsis on a sentence she wouldn't finish.

Her axe jostled around her messenger bag, tugging at her shoulder and neck. Her side ached as if it would tear open again and her other shoulder blazed in white hot agony every time she moved her arm too much. The phantom itch of the scar on her stomach nagged at her, now more than ever. The wounds of a soldier in an endless war.

The Chosen are born.

The trees cast blurred shadows on her skin and her legs begged her to stop. Twigs and leaves crunched under her, a speeding percussion in her ears and a clock counting down too quickly as her breathing became more ragged.

Maddie tripped, stumbling and only barely catching herself on a tree trunk. There were only a few more feet before she reached the field. She sucked in a breath and coughed.