𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐄 𝐃𝐎𝐖𝐍 𝐒𝐎𝐎𝐍, derek hale ✓

𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐓𝐘 𝐎𝐍𝐄

┏━━━━⋆°.☾⋆.ೃ࿔*:⋆━━━━┓

SACRIFICIAL LAMB

EMERSON FELT LIKE SHE HAD DIED AND CAME BACK TO LIFE.

Her whole body ached, the sort that made her think she had gotten hit by a semi truck if she had a human pain tolerance. The fact that she felt like this with a werewolf pain tolerance was more than alarming, especially when it was a fight to open her eyes.

The first thing she noticed was the dimness of the area she was in, the cobwebs and whistling wind from above alluded to the fact that she was somewhere underground.

Her head sagged against the wooden beam behind her, and only when she tried to move did she realize that she was tied to the very beam itself. There was a searing sensation as she tried to tug against the restraint, one that made her yelp in pain.

"Oh thank God you're awake."

Emerson turned to the voice instantly, blinking away the haze covering her eyes before they settled on another figure that was bound. "Sheriff?"

Sheriff Stilinski tried giving her a courageous smile, the kind that most law enforcement officers usually dished out during troublesome situations. "How're you doing, kid?"

Well, it looks like she was the first to get an answer as to where the man had disappeared to. She tried to grin back, but it probably looked more like a grimace more than anything. "Funnily enough, I've been worse."

That roused a chuckle from the man across the room of what looked like a creepy basement, the walls lined with shelves and dust. "Fair enough," he responded. "Is there any leeway on the restraints?"

Again, Emerson tried pulling against it with all the strength she could muster, but it only made more pain spread from her wrist. It felt like rope, one that was perhaps doused in something that was setting her wrists aflame. "No," she grit out. She tried her claws, willing them to appear, but failed— yet another thing that was worrisome.

Her eyelids were growing heavy the more she pulled. "No, there's nothing."

ೃ࿔*:⋆

The next time she had blinked herself to consciousness, she saw that they were joined by two other people in the dingy old basement. She was more than surprised to see Melissa McCall and Chris freaking Argent there alongside her and the Sheriff.

These were all parents of those who ran with Scott, all three of them, and then there was Emerson. She didn't know how she fit into this demographic, nor why Jennifer Blake was obviously parading around as a meek English teacher when she evidently was not.

"Try not to pull too much on your wrist, honey," that was Melissa's voice from her place across from the sheriff. Emerson saw the way she'd been looking at the place where her hands had been died against the pole she was propped against.

The blonde weakly nodded. "Give me a visual," she said, noticing how the woman's own hands were tied right in front of her as opposed to behind like the three others. Hell, at least she wasn't strapped against the beam like the Argent man was. "What's it look like?"

Melissa looked. "The rope around your hands isn't like ours; it's darker in colour," she noted, and for a second her lip was pulled between her lip. "You're bleeding, so the wound might get infected if we don't—"