The Longing Of Rebirth

The role that Derek played was guardian to the underworld, a place that chilled one to the bone at the simple thought of it. For the most part, he lived there alone with the souls of those that had passed to keep him company. The work was always busy and always thankless, colder than the ground one was buried in.

He longed for the warmth of the sun, for springtime when the flowers bloomed. Was his role a mistake? He'd always wondered if he was cursed and if this was how things would always be.

Stiles grew bored of the spring, of the flowers, of the pollen that would cover everything in a yellow dust. He'd tired of the monotony of the same old pattern; pollinate, bloom, harvest. Over and over again it had turned and turned. What truly fascinated him was when the flowers would wither and petals would fall from their stems.

He had a morbid fascination with death, with the destruction of everything so perfect. Perhaps that was what had drawn him to the gateway in the first place.

He wandered from the path that he was meant to stay on, the path that had always stayed the same. Through the rose bushes he wandered, brushing his fingers against thorns and staring at the colors.

Red, pink, white. Red, pink, white. Red, red, red. Red, white, white.

Red, pink.....Brown...Black.

Stiles frowned at the changes in colors, brushing his fingers over the browned petals of the flower. They crunched breathe the pressure of his fingers and dropped one by one to the ground below. He touched the black one and felt it fall to pieces at his touch. The petals even stained his fair skin with soot.

Stiles stared at the ash on his finger tips and turned his head to follow the colors. Black...Black...Black.

Everything that grew near the door way died and burned. What a curious thing indeed.

As he stepped closer to the gateway, a lesson he had been told over and over echoed in his mind.

"Don't go near the black gate. There is nothing for you there."

Stiles eyes lit up in wonder and felt a rush of excitement in his chest as he pulled at the iron gates, shivers rushing down his spine at the creak that reverberated into the quiet afternoon when it finally opened for him. The gate led to marble steps, leading downwards into darkness.

Stiles cast a look over his shoulder to make sure that no one was watching before he began his descent. With every step, his heart pounded wildly in his chest.

He was rebelling and it felt so good. Straying from the path that he had repeatedly followed made him feel more free than he could have ever expected.

When he reached the final stair and stepped onto the floor, his footstep sent an echo through the pitch black hallway ahead of him.

Once the echoed faded away, the only sound left in the darkness was the sound of Stiles' breathing. He stood still and waited for another sound, but none came.

Finally, when he was considering turning and walking up the stairs again, he could see red light. Two red lights, small despite how brightly the color illuminated. The light flickered and Stiles realized they were eyes.

"What are you doing here?" The voice asked.

"I don't know." Stiles replied, shrugging his shoulders. He wasn't sure if the male in front of him could even see it.

The male stared at him for a long moment before speaking again, "You don't know?"

"I mean, I guess I kind of know. I wanted to see what was down here. I wanted to escape."