Broken boys Cry Alone

Hurting You Is Pleasing Me

Stiles' P.O.V

I could feel another shot of pain in my chest as I sunk to my knees in the empty warehouse. I can feel my energy leave like water running through a child's bare hands. Fighting it was like going alone, against an entire army, but yet I somehow gained control of my own body for a while. Looking around the layer I saw nothing but boxes and shattered windows that some kids may have broken. I still can't believe it outed me on Derek, saying that hurting him is hurting me. Yes, I love Derek, and so, he will never love me back so he won't care if I get hurt. 

" Oh but you see Stiles he does, why did you think he stopped every time he was about to punch your head to smithereens. that's why it is so hilarious," the whisper spoke as a burst of cold laughter followed it. Derek, loves, me? No Derek is not interested in me, he is straight and I'm gay, it's the same old routine. I fished out a little blade from the back of my pocket, letting the familiar metal grow accustomed to my fingers, letting it travel between them. Guilt rose in my eyes letting a few tears escape, I promised Derek, and Scott, that I would never do it again.

" We all lie, Stiles, do it!" The voice cheered as the chills on my arm perked up as I rolled up my sleeve, exposing it to the cold late night air. Holding the blade above my skin felt a hell of a lot worse when I knew it meant breaking a promise. A groan sounded through my head as the blade hit my skin, drawing out the red liquid. 

I fell to the ground, as the headache came around again. I could yet again feel the blood, stream down my nose onto the ground. All of a sudden, all windows burst in the layer there triggered a scream I didn't even know my throat was capable of making.

When all the air I had in my lungs was gone, the headache stopped. I looked down at my arm, seeing where there once before had been red liquid, now had turned into a thick black substance. I quickly wiped it away with my thumb as threw the black goop in the corner. Turning my attention back at my arm where there was supposed to be a big red wound, was a big black line, like a tattoo. 

" There we go Stiles, that's the stuff," the voice rang through my head as my sight went black and I felt the cold concrete floor hit my face. I woke up being back into the dark prison I had been in when I fainted in the loft.

How will I ever get out of isolating part of my mind?

Will I ever get out at all?

3rd P.O.V

As Stiles' body hit the ground and fell unconscious, another presence took over the young boy's body. His skin got pale like snow, his eyes open revealing a dull and dead brown there once had been full of color and life. The body got up on its feet and started to move around. The possed body of Stiles Stilinski picked up a piece of shattered glass and looked at the weak reflection it gave off. A wicked smile fell onto the lips of the body being used as a puppet for the spirits' evil purpose.

With a cold smile the master of the body he now was in, walked down the street, trying to regain the full control of the body. 

It had made it around the corner when two hunters blocked his way. He was surprised that the Sourwolf convinced the hunters to join them so they could hunt him down, a good idea.

" Alright boy, we can do this the easy way or the hard way," the hunter said as the guy beside him drew out an electro stick, But all The Nogitsune could do was smiling that dead smile of his as the brown dull eyes were beginning to shine with pure evil as he moved closer to the two hunters, staring into their eyes, dominating the game. 

" Now wheres the fun if it's always easy?" he said with a wicked chuckle as he gripped the electro stick without hesitation. The static traveled through the body, making The Nogitsune laugh a terrifying dead laugh. The two hunters looked at each other in a terrified union.