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Thirty, Dead Girl Walking
There was one thing was for sure, Malia Tate never wanted to kill anyone more than the blonde that was rotting away behind a jail cell in the depths of Beacon Hills. Anger consumed her like an overplayed lovesick song, she was quiet — always quiet. She'd regret something if she'd open her mouth and Stiles..
Where do we even start with Stiles Stilinski, he was literally nothing. He felt like nothing. He was well aware of the fact that everyone dies, especially his group of friends, but never in a million light-years would he think it be Luna Willow Sage. The bitchy brunette he devoted his life to, he wanted to marry this girl. And their entire relationship ended in one night, in shambles, at the hands of someone else. It was gut-wrenching. Luna, she was his first love. And she always said, "sandbox love never dies."
And I don't think Stiles knew how much those words meant to her.
Her red ruby nose seemed to twitch like an innocent bunny, Thumper from Bambi. She wasn't entirely sure where she was, though, it was dark even when she wasn't blinking. Absolutely pitch black. A small huff slipped past her chapped lips, a noise of discomfort falling from her as something seem to littered her lips. A cold hand whipping it away harshly, a gag following suit. "Fucking gross!" She wasn't even sure what had fallen on her.
A hand lifted from her lips, pushing up, a groan falling past her as her fingers seem to jam into a hard surface. "O-Ow, fuck!" The girl huffed, hands feeling the surface, wood. Her legs gently lifted, hands covering her ears as her feet slammed into the wood — cracking following suit.
A soft sigh of relief fell past as the cracked wood finally seem to be let open, her relaxed form soon shrieking as something seemed to fall on her, again — mouth screwed shut, eyes practically glued shut, her hands felt around the damp substance.
Freakin' dirt.
And so she did the obvious, her clean hands started to claw her way up — dirt lingering under her red painted nails like spider webs attached to walls. It could've been an hour or ten minutes but the biggest gasped slipped past her lips as the wind hit her now dirt-stained face. She shook her head slightly, dirt falling away as her eyes fluttered open.
Her cold gaze falling upon what hell hole she just crawled out of, literally. Her eyes seem to widen slightly, heart-dropping - "n-no way!" The brunette girl jumped, spinning around to be faced with a girl who looked slightly younger than her. "Y-You're Luna Sage!"
Fucking everybody knew fucking everything.
The brunette's lips rolled into a straight line and she cleared her throat softly, "um, hi? quick question .. if that's alright.." The girl before her nodded eagerly, she didn't seem to process the fact that this girl just had crawled from her own grave.
