girl almighty // s. stilinski [1]

sacrificium

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"Stiles, what are you doing here?"

The aforementioned Stilinski boy rushes up to his best friend in the auditorium, watching as students and parents frantically run out of the building. His whiskey eyes spot the dead teacher lying in a pool of her own blood on the stage, and his heart beats a little faster.

"I can't find Bea," Stiles answers Scott's question. "She wasn't at home, and she's not answering her phone. Do you know where she is?"

Scott shrugs, grimacing at the overwhelming scent of blood invading his nostrils. "I don't know," he answers honestly, not having seen the redhead since she had gone to look for Lydia.

The wide eyes of his best friend glare back at him, causing the werewolf to wince. "You don't know? Scott, how the hell do you not know? You were the last one with her. Did she at least tell you where she was going?"

"She came into the auditorium earlier. I thought she had gone home. Then, she shows up, telling me she can't leave, and then she asks where Lydia went. She left to go find her, and I haven't seen her since."

A sigh leaves Stiles' lips as he runs his hand through his already unruly hair, dialing Bea's number on his phone before bringing it to his ear. Once more, he only gets her voicemail.

"She's still not answering, Scott. Where exactly did she say she was going to look for Lydia?"

The werewolf points to the doors that lead to the rest of the school. "She told me she was going to look around the school. Who knows where she could've gotten to by now?"

Quickly, they make their way to the courtyard, their footsteps echoing off the cement sidewalk. All the attendees from the convert have fled by now, the school silent and dark except for the approaching police sirens.

"Bea!" Stiles yells, his hand cupped around his mouth.

"Lydia!" Scott echoes before taking his phone out. He dials the strawberry blonde's number, though a groan escapes him when he receives her voicemail. "Lydia's not answering, either."

"What do we do?" Stiles questions, gripping his hair between his fingers and pacing the sidewalk. When he turns back to Scott, his eyebrows furrow when he sees his best friend on the ground, covering his ears with a twisted face.

Two, ear-piercing screams attack Scott's supernatural ears, their frequency forcing him to his knees. Stiles' voice is drowned out by the noise, but despite the pain, Scott knows exactly where to find them.

"Scott?"

//

"What are you doing?"

Bea awakes to the sound of Lydia's voice, slightly muffled by the pounding in her head. Slowly, she blinks the bleariness from her eyes, finding Lydia seated in a rolling chair across from her. The strawberry blonde's pale skin reflects in the moonlight, her chest heaving up and down in panic. Jennifer stands a few feet away, holding an unknown object in her hand.