The Girl In The Coffin // D.H

twenty two

-ˋˏ ༻✿༺ ˎˊ-

The hospital room was still, but Abigail couldn't shake the feeling of suffocation. Her nightmare lingered, the Nogitsune's mocking words echoing in her mind like a taunt she couldn't escape. The fluorescent lights above buzzed faintly, filling the silence with an almost oppressive hum. She pulled her knees up to her chest, clutching the thin blanket as though it could shield her from the shadows that seemed to gather in the corners of the room.

Her heart pounded as she replayed the dream in her head, the darkness, the riddle, the suffocating presence. She pressed her hands against her scarred throat, as though she could force her voice to return, to scream, to cry for help—but nothing came. Only silence.

The hospital seemed unnaturally quiet, as though it was holding its breath. Abigail glanced at the clock. Thirty minutes had passed since she'd woken in a cold sweat, but her body remained on edge. The shadows on the walls stretched long and jagged, and she had the distinct feeling she was being watched.

Suddenly, a commotion broke the stillness. Shouts and hurried footsteps echoed down the hallway outside her room. Abigail froze, her body tensing as adrenaline surged through her veins. She sat perfectly still, listening intently, but the noise only grew louder—urgent voices, the rattling of wheels against the floor.

Her curiosity overcame her fear. She swung her legs over the side of the bed and slipped out into the hallway, her bare feet cool against the tile. The fluorescent lights flickered slightly as she stepped into the corridor.

She was just in time to see a stretcher being wheeled past, the wheels squeaking loudly against the floor. Several nurses surrounded it, their faces tense, but Abigail couldn't get a clear view of the person on the stretcher. The only thing she could see was a flash of pale skin and dark hair before the stretcher disappeared around the corner, leaving the hallway eerily quiet once more.

Abigail stood there for a moment, her hands trembling at her sides. The air felt heavy, as though something terrible had happened. But when no one else appeared, no further noises broke the stillness, she turned and retreated back to her room. Sliding under the covers, she curled up once more, but the uneasy feeling wouldn't let her rest.

The sun eventually began to rise, its faint light creeping through the blinds and casting long shadows across the room. Abigail stared at the ceiling, her exhaustion mounting, but sleep refused to come. The weight of the nightmare and the strange energy in the hospital pressed against her chest, making it impossible to relax.

Finally, she threw the blanket off and got out of bed. She couldn't take the stillness any longer. She had to move, to breathe, to find something to ground herself. Slipping into her sneakers, she quietly left her room and began wandering the halls of the hospital.

☾☆☽

The hospital was eerily quiet in the early morning hours, the faint hum of machines and the occasional murmur of voices the only sounds breaking the silence. Abigail's footsteps echoed softly as she moved through the empty corridors. She didn't have a destination in mind, only the nagging feeling that something wasn't right. It gnawed at her, a sense of wrongness that settled in her chest like a stone.

Her fingers brushed against the walls as she walked, grounding herself as her unease grew. It was the same feeling she'd had in her nightmare—the presence of something dark, malevolent, watching from the shadows. But there was something else too, a warmth, a familiarity. Someone like Derek. Or Scott.

She turned a corner, drawn by faint voices ahead. As she moved closer, she recognized the voices—Scott and Allison. Abigail's steps slowed as she approached, stopping just outside the doorway of a dimly lit room. She pressed her back against the wall, listening.

"Have you been here all night?" Scott's voice was soft, but there was an edge of worry to it.

"Yeah," Allison replied. She sounded tired, but determined. "They won't let me see him because I'm not family. I told them he doesn't have any..."

Abigail peeked around the corner, just in time to see Melissa McCall step forward, her expression firm yet kind. "He's got us," Melissa said, holding up a key card. "And I've got a key card. Be quick."

Abigail watched as Allison and Scott slipped into the room, Melissa following close behind. Her curiosity piqued, Abigail crept closer, keeping to the shadows. Through the small window in the door, she could see Isaac lying on the hospital bed, his skin pale and his body still.

"I thought he'd be healing by now," Allison said, her voice low.

"So did I," Scott replied, a faint tremor in his voice.

"Is he in pain?" Allison asked, stepping closer to the bed.

"It won't heal him, but it helps with the pain," Scott said, holding Isaacs hand and taking some of his pain away. He was breathing heavily, as though the weight of the night was finally catching up to him.

Allison hesitated, her gaze fixed on Isaac's unconscious form. "Did Stiles really do this?"

Scott's shoulders tensed, and he looked down, his voice barely above a whisper. "Whatever's controlling him did it—whatever's inside him."

Allison's eyes narrowed, her determination hardening. "Well, then how do we get whatever's inside of him the hell out of him?"

Scott ran a hand through his hair, his frustration clear. "I'm working on it..." His voice trailed off, and the silence that followed was heavy.

Abigail's heart sank as she stepped back, her thoughts racing. Stiles—the boy with the quick wit and mischievous smile—was the Nogitsune? The idea didn't seem possible, but the sorrow and fear in Scott's voice told her otherwise. Whatever was happening, it was worse than she had imagined.

She turned and slipped away, her mind buzzing with questions she couldn't ask and fears she couldn't voice. As she wandered the hospital's labyrinthine halls, the weight of the Nogitsune's words in her dream pressed down on her once more.

"I will find you. You cannot hide, not from me."

The memory sent a shiver down her spine, but she kept walking, determined to find answers—or at least prepare herself for what was coming next.

The hospital's quiet hallways stretched endlessly as Abigail wandered, her footsteps echoing softly against the linoleum floor. She didn't know where she was going—her body just kept moving, fueled by restless energy and the unease that had settled deep in her chest.

As she passed a large open window overlooking the hospital's courtyard, she paused. The soft breeze that filtered in was cool against her skin, but something else caught her attention.

Whispers.

They were faint, delicate, like leaves rustling in the wind. At first, she thought it was her imagination, but then they grew stronger—not louder, but more insistent. The voices weren't clear; she couldn't make out individual words, yet somehow, she understood.

Her heart began to race as the whispers painted a picture in her mind. Flashes of the Beacon Hills Police Station. The glow of fire. The wail of sirens. And then... Derek.

Her stomach twisted. Something was going to happen. Something terrible.

The whispers urged her forward, pressing the urgency into her chest like a second heartbeat. She turned, running toward the elevator without a second thought.

*

a/n: whoop, what's gonna happen there? obviously you know what's gonna happen if you've seen the series but lets pretend we don't know okay? keep the suspension alive and shit.

anyways, let me know what you think!

lots of love,

Leia