lost soul [teen wolf]

[chapter eighteen] now I'm haunted

TW: MENTIONS OF ABUSE.

'✧∘* ೃ ⋆｡˚.

Aires pov...

It had been three days since I was found, found laying in a graveyard. I'm wasn't sure what happened, the last thing I could remember was his face and my scream. Isaac and Derek were the ones who found me, they said they weren't too sure how long I was there, only that when they found me I was freezing.

For the past three days, I had been staying in some abandoned train station, one Derek was living in. I had yet to speak to Stiles or Scott. Instead I had been sleeping, sleeping for the past three days. It was as if I couldn't sleep enough. And whilst I was asleep, the world around me kept moving. 

Lydia had been found. Kate Argent's funeral took place. And more Argents had arrived into town. 

Nothing was making sense anymore, what was happening? Was I hallucinating or was it real? More importantly, why did I see myself in a red cloak? What did it mean? 

Ever since I had 'died', everything had gone to shit. 

"Do you want a drink?" Derek asked, crouching down by my side with a sad smile on his face.

"No." I croaked out, slowly shaking my head. "No, I'm okay."

He nodded before sinking down to sit next to me, his knees up to his chest, whilst I sat with a dusty blanket draped over my shoulders. To say I looked like hell would be an understatement. We sat in silence, just enjoying each other's company. However, that was short-lived.

A frantic Isaac Lahey bursted through the door, his whole body soaking wet. "Derek." He choked out in between his sobs, making the hair on the back of my neck rise. "I need your help."

"What's wrong?" I muttered before throwing off the blanket. "Wait why are you here?" 

"He knows." Isaac cried, his eyes locked on my brother. 

"What are you on about?" I questioned with narrowed eyes. 

"He knows I'm a werewolf.'' He muttered, causing a choking gasp to fall from my lips.

"What the fuck?" I whispered in horror as I turned to scowl at my brother. "What is he talking about, Derek?" I demanded in a deathly low mutter. 

"I helped him, okay? I told him what I was and gave him a choice. He needed to be able to defend himself and I gave him that option!" 

Derek had turned Isaac. Sweet, innocent Isaac. I hadn't spoken to him since the day in the art room, since the day he kissed me, and from the sound of things, his home life had turned south.

"I couldn't take him any more, Aires." He choked out.

He asked to be turned to protect himself against his dad. A sickening sensation twisted in the bottom of my stomach as I slowly shook my held, unable to comprehend what the fuck had happened. 

"When did you turn him?" I hissed to Derek.

"The night he found you."

With a shake of my head, I softened my murderous scowl and turned to face the sobbing boy. "What happened?"

'✧∘* ೃ ⋆｡˚.

Aires pov...

It was midnight when I ran through the front door to the McCall home. Quickly, I threw off my shoes and ran up the stairs, praying Scott wasn't home. However, as always my prayers weren't heard.