Clairvoyant || Stilinski [1]

Seventy-One || Silent Spaces

|| Silent Spaces

Cool air skimmed Kira's stature, dank and dark surroundings engulfing the kitsune. Blood tinged the corner of her mouth, the pain in her limbs awaking her.

Kira gasped a breath of harsh air, blinking in the black light around her. She slowly pulled herself up, among scattered bones with blood dripping down her legs.

She didn't know where she was.

Light poured in from a grate above, the fox looking up to it as if it could offer her some sort of guidance.

"Scott?"

But there was no response.

Kira forced herself forward, heading towards a steel door. She grabbed the metal, pulling on it in hopes of a weakness in the lock. "Scott?" she called out. "Scott!"

But she was alone.

||

The underground sewer held sounds of tranquility; drips of water and lapses of small, minute waves.

The only thing to break it was the anguishing groans of Chris Argent, impaled by an iron pipe and pinned to the wall since the night before.

Courtesy of Peter Hale, no less.

A light flashed down the corridor Argent resided in, Jordan Parrish surfacing with a gun and flashlight in hand.

"They've gone," Argent gruffly told the deputy.

Jordan came up to the hunter, concern gripping his face as he flashed the light over the rigged beam wrapped around Chris. "How long have you been like this?"

Tired senses clouded Chris, his eyes drooping. "I don't know. Might have blacked out a few times."

Blood pooled at Argent's feet; too much to not worry.

"Peter Hale did this?" Jordan quickly asked.

Chris could taste iron on his tongue, blood at his lips. "You were following him?"

"Every day since Meredith Walker," Parrish replied.

"Listen to me," said Chris limply. "Kate's going after Scott. Peter and Kate. You've got to warn them."

"I can't. There's no service down here."

"Then just go."

Parrish, however, wouldn't. "If I leave right now, you'll be dead by the time I get back."

Although that fact, Chris only closed his eyes for a moment.

"We're getting you out of here." Jordan put his gun into the back of his jeans and set down his flashlight before taking off his leather jacket.

He had to get it out of Chris or when Allison woke up, she'd be an orphan.

"Keep breathing," Parrish advised as he started to focus in on the pipe entrapping Argent.

Chris tried not to laugh, it expressed through half a smile. "Are you telling me that, or you?"

"Both."

Argent lightly nodded, "Do it."

Jordan gripped the pipe, taking in a breath before beginning to pull. Ten minutes, fifteen and still nothing. Finally, Chris let out a blood curdling scream, unable to hold it in.

Jordan quickly stopped, "I'm sorry. I'm sorry." He panted, already exerting his energy "I, I can't do it myself. It's not bending back and it's not coming out of the wall."