Hatter ₪ Stiles Stilinski [1]

₪ p r o l o g u e ₪

S T I L E S

"No, no, no, no, no." Stiles Stilinski muttered fearfully, eyes shut tight as he turned in his sleep, "Don't let them in. Don't let them in. No, don't let them in."

Suddenly, his eyes shot open, arms slamming against something metal with a clang as his body jolted forward. After a brief moment of pause, he reached out again, slamming his hands against the enclosing surface. When it only rattled, he hit it harder, banging against the metal until it finally budged. In a flash, he tumbled out of the locker, stumbling slightly at the sudden move but staying on his feet. Taking a few steps forward, he met his own stare in a slightly grimy mirror, instantly recognizing that he was in the school's locker room.

A few seconds later, Stiles made his way towards the door that would take him out, exiting and shutting the door behind him. He walked through the halls, the only sound being his quiet footsteps. He turned a corner and immediately noticed that one of the classroom doors was open. He warily eyed the opening as he approached, stepping inside and taking in the scene before him.

The area was completely wrecked, with the window shutters twisted and malformed while the teacher's desk was laying on it's side in the corner. But, he barely even registered that the room was destroyed due to the eerily familiar landmark taking up the center of the room.

The Nemeton.

Stiles stepped forward almost as if he was in a trance, slowly moving closer to the old stump. He leaned over the oak remains, his arm reaching towards it as if it had a mind of it's own. He was a mere inch away from touching it when suddenly roots shot out, wrapping around his shaking hand.

Instantly, he shot into a sitting position on his bed, gasping for breath.

"You okay?" a slightly rough but distinctly feminine voice questioned from beside him, the slight rustling of sheets telling him that the speaker had sat up as well, "Stiles?"

He felt a comforting hand on his arm, the gesture calming a bit of his nerves. The dream was still fresh in his mind, but he couldn't help but feel more relaxed at the contact.

"Yeah. I was dreaming." Stiles sighed, his hand coming up to rest on top of where hers sat on his other arm, "It was weird. It was like... a dream within a dream."

"A nightmare?" she inquired as he felt her remaining hand come up to rub soothing circles on his shoulder.

"Yeah." he whispered, looking over at the girl beside him.

Her blonde hair fell to one side, cascading down her shoulder as she leaned to the side so she could look up at him. Her shockingly blue eyes were scanning his features with a slight smile on her face. Overall, she was gorgeous, pretty much model-like despite the fact that he knew she had just woken up.

Then suddenly, he realized something.

"Wait a second...who are you?" he inquired, confusion seeping into his expression, but for some reason, he didn't feel any fear even though she was a complete stranger. Instead, he felt... at home with the unknown blonde.

Before Stiles could ponder the strange feeling further, a loud creaking drew both of the teens' attention to the front of the room.

His bedroom door had moved outwards, opening just enough for a crack to be seen. Stiles could see nothing of what was past it, for the space beyond the door was pitch black.

"Hang on." Stiles muttered absent-mindedly, beginning to shift off the bed.

"Stiles, where are you going?" the girl whispered, her voice filled with worry.