Eye of the Hurricane ▸ Scott McCall (2)

xxxvi. CAT AND MOUSE

xxxvi. CAT AND MOUSE

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Foster's back was pressed up against a stone hard wall, a large puddle of water on the floor beneath her and dripping down the sides of it. Her hands were clasped together, knees tugged in against her chest as she tremors with fear.

The last thing she remembered was rushing to Stiles' aid, and the next minute she was being brought out the house as lightening quick speed. It was then when she realize her mistake, that the body she rushed over to was never Stiles in the first place. She had practically thrown herself into the arms of the Nogitsune.

Either way, the trickster spirit then proceeded to drop her off in this dump of a hallway, barely working lights flickering in order to guide her way. The narrow walls that were making Foster feel rather claustrophobic seemed to run down forever, Foster unsure of which way was even the exit. 

She just had to hold out hope of the idea that her friends would find her. That Scott would be at her rescue in due time. And although she hated playing the damsel in distress, she wasn't exactly up to par with the strength of a Nogitsune.

Hesitantly, the tips of her fingers raked along the sides of the damp walls, prepared to start trekking her way out. She glanced down both direction, no source of light or a sign of exit in sight. Foster had absolutely no idea if she was going to be walking to her freedom or into a trap.

Either way, she had to do something. She couldn't just sit her like a pawn when she wasn't even certain her friends would even be able to find her. For all she knew, her escape rested solely on her shoulders, and her shoulders only.

Which was why Foster braced herself, sucking in a deep breath before taking an advancing step to her right. The close proximity of the wall around Foster made her feel like they were bound to collapse atop of her at any given second.

They grazed the stone, every step she took sounding with a soft splash due to the water filling in the hallway. 

She continued on for not even thirty seconds before a silhouette in the shape of a familiar, teenage boy appeared at the end of the tunnel. It was Stiles' figure, but it wasn't Stiles. Foster still had yet to wrap her head around the fact that the Nogitsune had split himself and Stiles into two separate bodies. She didn't even want to begin to fathom how much power the Nogitsune must have had to hold the ability to do that.

"Foster," Stiles' familiar voice sounded, the tone too dark to truly sound like him though. Her head snapped up, eyes locking on the figure of him approaching her. He clasped his hands behind his back, strolling toward her like he knew the ins and outs of this place.

Fearful, Foster immediately whipped around before trying to pick up her pace. It was rather difficult to do though considering how pact in she was by the walls around her. So as her legs began to make choppy, frantic steps, the Nogitsune merely chuckled from behind her.

Foster was aware that she shouldn't be running this fast. If he was merely strolling as she covered more ground, he either had something in store at he end or she was bound to run right into a trap.

"You feel it, don't you?" he questioned, Foster's breath hitching in her throat. She tried to feign confusion, but he was right. She had absolutely no idea how he was right, but he was. "You can feel the darkness more so now than anywhere else. That, that's because a lot of bad things happened here."

It was true, Foster could feel darkness practically dripping down the walls and reaching herself. Ever since she had become aware of the hue of darkness surrounding her, Foster had become more aware of the darkness in general that resided in Beacon Hills. As she was darkness itself, it wasn't hard to pinpoint other sources of it.