COMPLETED
Y/n L/n is a simple teenage girl although her life is anything but. Why, you ask? Because, from a vengeful werewolf to power hungry Alphas and spectral riders, with a splash of blossoming romances, nothing will ever be simple in Beacon Hil...
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In a dim, gloomy train station dozens of people sit patiently waiting on wooden benches. Stiles blinks as if waking up. He turns his head to the side, looking past a woman to see the boards marking the arrivals and the departures. He moves his gaze to the ticket booth against the wall across from him, then to the other people sitting around, idly waiting, barely moving. He feels something in his hand, and when he looks he finds his keys. The last thing he remembered was being in the Jeep with Y/n, how did he get here?
He turned to the woman next to him. "Excuse me." He whispers, the woman turns her head to him. "Sorry, where are we?"
"We're at the train station." She responds as if it's obvious.
"Right. Okay. Helpful. Which train station exactly?"
"Train station Number 137." She reads off of the wall.
"Did you see me come in?"
"No."
"How long have you been here?"
"Maybe an hour?"
An older man on the other side of her chimes in from his newspaper reading. "We got here at the same time. It's been at least six hours."
"Six hours?" Stiles repeats. The man nods and returns to his paper. "Where are you goin'?" The man and woman open their mouths as if about to answer, but no words come out. They look at each other in confusion.
"Uh, uh..." The woman searches her pockets. "I had a ticket with me somewhere. Um..."
Stiles then notices her attire. Scrubs, a white coat, and a stethoscope hanging around her neck. "You always travel in your work clothes?"
"I must have been in a rush." The woman softly pats at her pockets, trying to find her non-existent ticket. Stiles lets go of his questioning and stands up, making his way over to the ticket booth. The booth was empty, a sign in the window claiming the attendant would be back in 5 minutes, but from the thick layer of dust over the counter and the items on the inside, 5 minutes has long since expired.
"Do you know if anyone works here?" He asked to someone in general, just as a voice crackled over a PA system.
"The following stops have been canceled," the people around turned their heads towards the speakers, "Hollatine, Batten, Bay Burry," slowly they stood up and moved towards the entrance to the tracks, "Deer Ridge, Red Oak..."
"Excuse me, where are those trains going?" Stiles asked another man, but he didn't even seem to notice him.
"... Trenton, Anderson, King Springs."
"Excuse me, do you know what train this is?" He asked another woman in scrubs, still receiving no answer. "Does anyone know where this train's going? Excuse me, do you know what train this is? Do you know where this train's going?" No matter what he said, everyone was too interested in peering down the dark corridor labled 'To Trains'. A distant sound of a horse neighing echoed back to them, the sudden gush of wind picked up dead leaves and ruffled their clothes. Three riders came rushing towards the group causing everyone to start exclaiming in fear and run away, cowering behind benches and pillars. Stiles was unmoving as he watched the scene. A rider smacked a man away with his whip while another dropped their newly acquired victim onto the ground, the rope binding his wrists and ankles dissolving into green smoke. The riders started coming towards Stiles and he backed up to avoid being trampled. Suddenly someone grabbed him and pulled him out of the way, shoving him against a pillar. He panted from the scare and the rough handling, but froze when he saw his unlikely savior.
