oblivion || stilinski

oneirataxia

(n.) inability to distinguish dreams or fantasy from real life

☾

The sound of the music was completely drowning out his screams, the cries unheard by everyone--including the supposed werewolves. Saving people? Please. The other teenagers couldn't even figure out what was wrong with their human investigator. It finally dawned on him. He didn't matter to them. He was just the person they used so they wouldn't get in trouble with the law, the only one who's family was in fact apart of Beacon Hills police--the sheriff. As the screams escaped his lips, the male held his pale hands to his ears hoping to shut out the loud voices that just kept screaming in his ears. Not once did they seem to stop. Louder and louder they cried.

Let me in! Let me in, Stiles!

It seemed that the music got even more deafening to his ears as he continue to hold those wretched hands to his pale skin. Everything was getting all warped together, he didn't know what had happened earlier that year, earlier that week, or even a few minutes ago. Nothing made sense. What was going on? Swiftly he broke out into a run, the bodies of the dancing club goers were moving against him as if he was a small animal trapped in a lion's den, making it almost impossible for him to escape their wrath. But he just kept on moving, trying to break free.

The black light danced across his pale flesh as he was suddenly grabbed by the hand, a soft grasp lingered on the male's fingertips. Who was it? A soft gasp escaped his lips as the coolness of the touch spread from his hand to his body--making him shiver at the new feeling. Turning quickly he saw who it was. It was her. She was there. How?

There is no such thing as fate Stiles...

The voice echoed as her eyes seemed to be dancing with malice as a blood covered dagger almost appeared in her hand. How? What was going on? She was dead. His best friend, his true friend, she was gone. And it had been about 3 months since her demise and it seemed that the human couldn't stop thinking about everything and how he had "let her down". He wanted to protect her. But in the end, she couldn't be saved. She had been a hunter and through the never ending darkness the huntress ended up being the one hunted.

By the darkness inside his head.

"A-Ally?" he whispered as the taunting voice of his void started to pound harder and harder into his skull. The chocolate he was so used to looking into--now an almost black color. Evil seeming to be the only thing that was pouring out of the soulless eyes, seeing as that it wasn't the girl he had been friends with for years. She wasn't home. An almost poison like smile appeared on the "girl's" face as the shadow looked at the male. Couldn't he see that he was imagining everything?

By the time he realized that he was imagining everything--it was already too late. He too was..

.....

gone.

➴

{ WOOOOOOO ANOTHER PART DONE :3 YAYY! OKAY SO, THESE ARE MEANT TO BE THIS DARK AND SAD. CAUSE THAT'S WHY I NAMED IT THE TITLE. IF ANYONE HAS A COOL IDEAS, SHOOT ME A MESSAGE! I LOVE WRITING IDEAS BY PEOPLE! COMMENT, VOTE, AND LOVE! }