girl almighty // s. stilinski [1]

darkness

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Warning: Non-graphic mention of rape

Darkness surrounds her.

Even as she feels her eyes opening, no sight comes to her. For a moment, she fears she has gone blind as she holds her hand out in front of her, nothing but darkness meeting her. No light, no reflections, no shadows. Nothing.

The dark room is mostly silent. Her slightly uneven breaths are loud in her ears, along with the constant sound of water dripping, echoing off the walls and reverberating in her ears. Her body trembles with a pang of discomfort, causing her to remember what happened before she succumbed to the darkness.

Bea peels her aching back from the cold, hard ground beneath her. A harsh pounding thrums in her head, and she can feel pain radiating from her left shoulder.

Her mind recalls Aiden showing up at the Stilinski household, nearly killing her by wrapping his fingers around her neck in a death-like grip. Bea rubs her neck gently, wincing when the gesture sends a sting through her skin.

She remembers being dragged up to Derek's loft by Aiden, Ethan meeting them there with Ms. Blake trapped in his embrace. The twins were using them as bait for Derek.

Another tremble shakes her body as she recalls the unimaginable agony she felt from being bitten by Aiden and feeling her friends' electrocution simultaneously. Her veins still feel as though electricity is still running through them.

The girl starts to wonder how she ended up here, wherever here is. She wonders if her friends know she is stranded. Or if the Sheriff is aware of her absence.

Stiles.

Her bones creak in protest as she attempts to push herself up from the ground, wobbling a few steps before she regains her balance. She stretches her arms out in front of her as she beings to walk, eventually finding the smooth surface of a wall, seemingly made out of cement.

Nearly five minutes tick by until Bea's hands touch something other than cement, wrapping around the cool metal shape of a doorknob. As she explores the door, she can feel the left side is lined with a column of locks leading to the knob at the bottom. She replaces her hand on the knob, the ring on her left, middle finger sending a tink through the room as she struggles to open the door.

It remains closed as she concludes that it is locked.

Her hands pound against the door as her sore throat yells for help. "Hello? Somebody, help me!" she shouts, her voice hoarse from the lack of speaking as her hands sting with the continuous impact with the door.