Pure × Isaac Lahey

68.

x x 

Let me in.

     Let me in!

          Let me in!

       Stiles awoke with a start, Elora clamping a hand over his mouth before he could scream. A freezing sweat covered his body, the teen slowly realizing what had happened.

       "Shit!" he expressed quietly, jumping up from the sofa. "I didn't mean to fall asleep. You passed out, I just wanted to sit down-"

       Elora pulled down the collar of his shirt at his shoulder, relieved at the traces of the Lichtenberg figure. "You're okay for now." She let go of his shirt, taking in a breath as she ran a hand along her jaw. "What was I talking about before I passed out?"

       "Yakunan," said Stiles, pointing toward the back wall. "His first host - who he was summoned to."

       El nodded, walking back to the kanji-carved concrete with a strange spring to her step.

       "El?"

       Stiles shouted, El's hand going straight through the wall. "Jesus - El, what are you doing?"

       "Just help me," she said, tearing the thin concrete and wood panels from the wall.

       Although Stiles helped El create a hole, he didn't exactly understand why.

       Elora leaned forward, meeting the ever-present body of a young soldier who suffered a fate worse than death.

       "Hey, hey," Stiles interrupted, putting a hand on her shoulder. "What's going on in your head?"

       "He loved whoever buried him," El said. "A kitsune and one that's likely still alive." Glimpses of what she had said earlier had leaked into her thoughts, triggering lights in her head.

       Stiles cringed, Elora not even hesitating before reaching her hand in, searching the corpse's well preserved clothes.

       Elora produced a yellowed photograph from the jacket pocket, pulling her hand free and holding the image up to the light. "Stiles, look-"

       But a pulse of electricity had gone off and Stiles was falling.

       Oliver stood above the two, eyes sunken in and taser still aglow. "You left the room after lights out," he said, Stiles still seething.

       Elora sharply stood, pushing out a hand with a force that should've sent Oliver across the room.

       Oliver tilted his head slightly, "Well that was uneventful." He lunged, connecting the glowing taser to Elora's ribcage. 

        The witch's face twisted in pain, crumpling to the floor next to Stiles.

        Oliver crouched down next to Elora, producing a syringe from his sweatpants. "I took Brunski's taser, and his Haldol."

        "Stiles," El gasped, pain coursing through her bones, "he's coming. He's coming." She inhaled sharply as Oliver plunged the needle of sedative into her thigh. "Don't let him in," she whispered, eyes fluttering shut.

       "Like I was saying Stiles," said Oliver as he stood. "I heard they used to do trepanation here."

       "Oliver," Stiles strained, body still plagued with bouts of electricity. "What are you doing?"

       Oliver picked up an electric drill from a near by bench, slowly turning back to Stiles. "I'm going to let the evil spirits out."

       Stiles cautiously looked to Elora, the witch mildly strewn on the floor next to him. She didn't have magic because Yakunan was coming.