Cruel || The Banshee and the Beta ➼ TEEN WOLF

Chapter 5 - Poolside tragedy

Lexie

Peter and Stiles stood there bickering as I stood off to the side. We tried to warn the others about the Alpha Pack's so-called plan and the trap they had set in the vault, but it was too late. There was a huge brawl and then the two werewolves took off. 

So now, they were out searching Beacon Hills to make sure that no one would die at the hands of a pair of rabid dogs. Stiles along with Peter were having some argument about what needed to be done and how we had to help, but I wasn't paying much attention. 

There was something wrong. Something seriously wrong. I paced back and forth, holding my arms close to my chest and furrowing my brow to try figure out what the hell the feeling was and what it meant. 

I knew it must've had something to do with being a Banshee, but most of my premonitions had been in Eichen House, a place I couldn't leave and was forced to listen to the voices and take in all the different feelings, but here, nothing is pushing me to figure it out. I have to push myself. 

So I squeezed my eyes shut and forced myself to search for the answers. Something was wrong I just had to find it. As I stood there, drowning out the raised voices of Peter and Stiles, I heard the sound of water. 

Drip.

Drip. 

It was quiet, so I tilted my head to the side to see if I could hear anymore. 

But as I was waiting for the sound of water to appear, a voice rang through my ears. It wasn't just any voice, it was Lydia. And she wasn't talking, she was screaming. Wailing. 

The impact of her scream made my head, ache. I groaned in pain as my hands flung to my ears to try stop the sound of her scream from making me go deaf. 

My eyes were squeezed shut and her screaming continued, I couldn't take it. And before I knew it, I was screaming too. Drowning out the her loud wails and creating my own deafening ones.

I can't do this. 

I don't want to.

Just stop. This was me yelling internally, begging all of this to stop, to just go away. Then the unimaginable happened and the image popped into my head like a memory or something. 

The swimming pool.

My eyes snapped open and I soon realised my screaming had stopped and I was crouched on the ground. Stiles was inches from my face, his hands on either side of my arms and a concerned look on his face. 

I cleared my throat and reached out my hand as he helped me up. Peter was stood in the corner of the room watching this commotion with a raised eyebrow. I have a feeling he's not surprised about what just happened and what's wrong with me. He was able to contact Lydia from the dead because they were somehow linked. He definitely knows what a Banshee is. 

But I don't have time right now to question whether or not Peter has any clue who or what I am, I had to listen to my head. Which means we had somewhere to be. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine, I'm fine." I reassured him, getting to my feet and brushing off the dust that had clung to my pants. I looked up at him, my expression no longer terrified and shocked, but now determined and hell-bent on figuring out what was wrong. "We have to go,"

"What?" I had his wrist in my grasp as I headed for the door, but at the sound of his questioning, I spun around and held my hand out. 

"Stiles we have to go now! Trust me," I spotted a second of hesitation before he nodded quickly and slipped his hand into mine. It made a smile appear on my face, and then I remembered the situation and let it fall. I dragged him out of Derek's dusty loft and to his Jeep.