From Ashes ✗ Stiles Stilinski [#𝟏]

𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐲 𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐞 [ debt. ]

A/N: Okay, so it's not as soon as expected but I think y'all know me better than that at this point. Anyway, I want to tell you a story about today. Fifteen years ago today, my favorite show ended with the mother of all plot twists, upending everything I knew about the show in one line: "What if my power could be our power?"

Today is the anniversary of Maddie being called as a slayer in the story. May 20th. In honor of this, I made sure I'd post a chapter today.

Also, be prepared. The last part of this chapter was one of the first things I foreshadowed back in Act I. It might be unsettling.

Happy Slayer-versary. Enjoy!

Song Recommendation ["No Rest For The Wicked" - Lykki Li]

NOTE: For the full experience, I do personally suggest seeking out each song rec.

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"They were catalysts, the fingers that tipped the first domino. They started things that grew into nothing, things that were much greater than themselves. A touch, a nudge in the wrong direction, and everyone fell down."

― Amy Zhang, Falling into Place

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They dragged her.

Maddie's vision blurred at the edges and the room spun. Her thoughts weighed her down and meandered, disconnected and directionless, opening doors to old rooms that no longer existed in her head. There was nothing left.

Nothing.

She tried to fight someone off but the fatigue and dizziness made her hands clumsy and slow. By the time she started to go limp, she noticed they were no longer underground at all. The breeze brushed against her face and the waning moon hung high over her head. She could smell the pine somewhere beyond the stronger scent of decay.

There were trees everywhere. Thin and wiry black veins against the moonlight.

Her head drooped for a second. It was so heavy now. Too heavy.

The arms keeping her upright left her and she collapsed on the ground onto her side, in the grass, dirt, and dead leaves.

She blinked in and out of consciousness and, for a moment, thought it was raining. The grass turned to asphalt and the blood on the ground wasn't hers; there was a puddle of it, diluted by rain water and spreading. Blonde curls turned light amber to deep red. Blue eyes stared at her.

She blinked slowly again and it was a man with short black hair and a strong jaw. She couldn't tell what the color of his eyes were; the swelling around them made them small and shadowed. Nonetheless, they stared back at her, blank and still. Harper. When her vision blurred, she thought he almost looked like her brother, Jack - or what Jack might look like now. The thought made her chest hurt.