'just close your eyes...the sun is going down. you'll be alright...no one can hurt you now. come morning light, you and i'll be safe and sound.'
Taylor Stilinski returns from boarding school and enters the wolves den. In a literal sense. She came ba...
°•. ┊ Safe and Sound ┊.•° ✧ ˚ ━ screaming at the sky, act one
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CHAPTER EIGHT — dressed up in heated emotion ( episode eight ; raving )
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The boys and I are with Deaton, preparing to trap the Kanima and its master at the rave tonight. "How did you guys even get tickets?" I question, sitting on one of the counters, as the vet turns to grab whatever the hell we're supposed to use on the creature.
"We didn't. Isaac took care of that." Stiles huffs and I infer that it wasn't in a morally correct way. Hey, whatever gets the job done, right? Deaton regains our attention, holding up a vial of ketamine.
"It's the same stuff we use on the dogs, just a higher dosage." The man explains, placing the vial and the syringe on the exam table for Scott to grab. "If you can get close enough to Jackson, it should slow him down enough to buy you some time. This is some of what you'll use to create the barrier. This part is for you, Stiles. Only you."
"Uh, that sounds like a lot of pressure." My brother says, lifting the jar of ash. "Can we maybe find a slightly less pressure-filled task for me? Or maybe Lore can take this one?"
"It's from the mountain ash tree, which is believed by many cultures to protect against the supernatural. This office is lined with ash wood, making it difficult for someone like Scott to cause me any trouble."
"Okay, so then what? I just spread this around the whole building and then either Jackson or whoever's controlling him can't cross it?"
"They'll be trapped."
"Doesn't sound too hard." Scott states, looking at my brother.
"Clearly, you forget who you're talking to." I remark, causing Stiles to shove me.
"Not all of it is." Deaton ignores our antics. "Think of it like gunpowder. It's just powder, until a spark ignites it. You need to be that spark, Stiles."
"If you mean light myself on fire, I don't think I'm up for that."
"Really? I am." A laugh escapes my lips and the boy flips me off. I grab ahold of his middle finger, bending it backwards, until he says; uncle.
"Let me try a different analogy," The vet starts. "I used to golf. I learned that the best golfers never swing before first imagining where they want the ball to go. They see it in their mind and their mind takes over. It can be pretty extraordinary what the force of your own will can accomplish."
