born to die [teen wolf]

[chapter twenty one] loml (loss of my life) (lesson of my life)

'✧∘* ೃ ⋆｡˚.

TWO YEARS AGO.

Aires pov...

I was finishing up my biggest massacre yet.

Thirty eight monsters dead, all at my hands, on my own personal mission. And with every one of their hearts that I ripped out, I was making my five year old self sigh with relief. They caged me, hurt me, ruined me. And when I found out they were all in London at the same time, every last one of them, it was like the universe was finally on my side.

I had a few minutes, my window was short, but I had plenty of time left to admire what I had done. Whilst coated in crimson red, in their blood, I looked around at the destruction I'd caused. Every last one of them was dead- finally.

Nobody knew where I was or what I was doing, not Paul, not Isaac- not Blake. And I couldn't tell any of them. They wouldn't understand why I had to do it, why I couldn't just 'let it go'. I'd tried, and I'd perfected the lies that rolled off of my tongue whenever I was questioned on it.

But the nightmares I couldn't shake.

I was a silent screamer, one with no humanity and yet still haunted by their faces. How the hell did that make any sense? I'd flipped the switch and couldn't feel a thing- other than anger and lust. And yet seeing their faces, every time I closed my eyes, was doing something to me.

I had to get rid of them, not Isaac or Paul- and not on a job. I needed to watch the life leave every last one of their eyes, and I needed to hold their heart in my hand, knowing there was no way it could end up in their body again and beating again.

The Society had stripped everything from me- and I remembered it all. Finally, every last memory that Talia stole from me returned. I remembered their games, the way they used me as their own toy, and handed me over to entertain the others. I was used, abused and ruined. And now, they were all dead.

A psychotic smirk tilted on my lips as I walked around in a blood soaked pool. Their faces were all twisted in horror, each one frozen in fear. And even though they'd never felt fear like they'd inflicted on me for years, they felt it for a second when they saw me, they died feeling it- and that was enough for me. I didn't want to torture them for long, I just wanted them all dead.

What idiots snuck up to a vip room, all together, at a party for traffickers and monsters? They all locked themselves in a room together, all thirty eight of them that ruined a part of me. It was a perfect coincidence.

My eyes swept the room again, stealing one final glance at the mess I'd made. "It's okay." I whispered to myself. "It's finally over..."

The click of the door had my body reacting before my brain caught up, and in a second, I had my gun in my hands and aimed at whoever made the mistake of walking through the door. I was prepared to shoot, my finger on the trigger.

But the damn boy with honey brown eyes...

"Ree?"

Stiles.

The way that name blew past his lips paralysed me for a second, making my finger slip off of the trigger, losing control for a split second- because of him.

Five years, one thousand eight hundred and twenty seven days, of mourning him inside my head. 43848 hours of manipulating myself into not thinking about him, of manipulating myself into believing he was dead, gone and buried. 2630880 minutes since the day I lost him.