COMPLETED [ B O O K T W O - S E A S O N S 3 A + 3 B ]
Four months since defeating the Kanima, Madison Stilinski had lived a normal summer filled with fun, trying her best not to think about Derek Hale. But when a pack of Alpha's roam to town...
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I wake up in the middle of the night with an uneasy feeling gnawing at my gut. The remnants of the nightmare cling to my consciousness, vivid and terrifying. In the dream, Stiles was trapped in a dark, damp basement. His foot was clamped painfully in a bear trap, and he was frantically flashing his phone's flashlight around. A figure wrapped in bandages loomed closer, its presence menacing and relentless.
I stumble out of bed, my heart racing. This nightmare felt different from the others I'd been having every night. There was something disturbingly real about it, a sense of urgency that gnawed at me. I couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong, like a cold shadow creeping into my consciousness. It's like a whisper in my mind, urging me to check on Stiles.
I tiptoe down the hallway towards Stiles' room. Each step feels heavy with dread, and the closer I get, the stronger the feeling becomes. My heart is pounding in my chest by the time I reach his door. I push it open slowly, expecting to see him asleep in his bed, but the sight that greets me is something entirely different.
Stiles' room is empty. The bed is unmade, but it's not the empty bed that sends chills down my spine. It's the red string. It's everywhere. Strung up in intricate patterns, it crisscrosses the room, looping over his bed, wrapping around furniture, and stretching across the walls. The sight is bizarre, like something out of a nightmare. The red string hangs ominously, casting eerie shadows in the moonlight filtering through the window.
"Stiles?" I call out softly, but there's no answer. My voice echoes slightly in the strange stillness of the room. I pull out my phone and dial his number, but it goes straight to voicemail. Panic starts to claw at me, and I feel a cold sweat break out on my forehead. Oh god. I don't think it was a dream, I think it was a vision.
I need to find him. Now.
Without wasting another moment, I turn and head out of the house. My first thought is to go to Scott's place. If anyone can help me find Stiles, it's Scott. I jog down the street, the cool night air doing little to calm my racing thoughts. I keep trying to call Stiles as I go, but still no answer.
I pound on Scott's front door, my lip quivering as I bring my hands to my mouth. I don't know if somethings happened to him too. Perhaps the two went out looking for another dead body and something happened to them. Perhaps Stiles is so worried because something worse happened to Scott and he had to witness it. Millions of theories flow through my anxious mind until the door breaks open and Scott is stood in the doorway, rubbing his sleepy eyes.
"Oh thank god." I breathe out pulling him into a tight hug. He takes a second before putting his arms around me too.
"Madison? Are you ok?" He questions, his voice croaky. He had definitely just woken up, and when I pull apart from him I notice he's in his pyjamas.
I shake my head. "There's something wrong. There's something wrong with Stiles."
He furrows his eyebrows and extends the door open so I can walk inside. "What? What happened to him?"
