Chaos Rising

4

Void

He glances at me, then takes off through the parking lot, running towards the accident. I follow, but I do not run. There is the same lime green bike, lying in a twisted heap on the grass, not five feet away is a girl. She is on the pavement, withering and clutching her stomach, parked off to the side is a black mustang, a small dent in the front bumper. The driver is kneeling beside the girl, Scott at his side.

"What happened?" Scott asks the driver, sending me worried sideways glances every few seconds. He takes one look at her stomach, then his head shoots up. "Someone call an ambulance." He calls out, taking her hand in his.

"She came out of nowhere, she just didn't stop. I- I didn't see her." The driver explains, his face is pale, his eyes wide and unblinking. I crouch on the other side of her squirming body, lifting one of her arms to observe the wound. Her shirt is stained with blood, the beautiful crimson seeps through her clothes and pools underneath her. Despite how I could care less if she survived, I lift her shirt and press my hands over the gash on her stomach, applying pressure.

"Scott." I hiss, he looks up from her face, acknowledging me. "Do something," I urge, "if she keeps moving like this she's going to lose more blood." I whisper, putting panic in my tone, he hesitates, then nods. He grips her hand tighter, closing his eyes and exhaling. I watch as he winces, pulling the pain from her veins and transferring it to himself.

Then, she goes limp, unconscious. Somewhere in the distance, the wail of sirens echoes through the streets, becoming louder and louder with every passing moment.

I find it almost humorous that Scott is falling for the same game twice. He should know better than to do this by now, he should know better than to play my game. He should know better than to listen to me.

I have said it once, and I will say it again. He really has to learn not to trust a fox.

Stiles

They don't know.

How can they not know?

Surely they can tell that this is not me. Surely... surely they are able to realize that they are being played. I am not the boy standing in front of them, sure, he has my face, my voice, but he is not me. And they don't know.

They should, they should know that this isn't me.

But they don't.

I am observing the world through a camera lens, watching him pretend to be me, Stiles. All I can do is watch. Watch as he dances in circles around my friends, watch as he feeds them lies. I cannot do anything else. He fooled my Dad, he fooled my bestfriend, and he fooled everyone else. He drove my jeep and hugged my girlfriend.

I don't know how they haven't caught on.

There were the little things, the red flags like calling Malia "love", that should have been obvious. Never in my right mind would I have said something like that. And yet, she liked it.

She likes him better.

No, Stiles, stop it.

They will figure it out, they always do.

I am trapped, locked inside my own head with only one key, one key which only he has in his power. I am a prisoner of my own mind, and there is no escape. With ever passing second, every minute, every hour that goes by, he grows stronger. And I? I grow weaker. I feel myself draining as of now, my strength is diminishing, fading away. And there is nothing I can do.

I watch, helplessly, powerless, as he holds pressure over this girl's wound, as he tries to stop the blood from leaking out of her body. The only reason he is doing this, is because it is exactly what I would do. He is playing his game, the same game he had before, and Scott is falling for it. Again. The Nogitsune runs off chaos, strife and pain, and Scott is the battery. He is using my bestfriend as a charger, and once Scott has taken enough pain, Void will steal it. Just like he had done before.

And Scott has no idea.