Sour Wolf and Big Mouth

Pity Party For One

Stiles was over the moon. In a week's time, he was going to be eighteen. Finally an adult! Someone to be respected! People would finally take him seriously and stop calling him a kid. He silently squealed with glee as he wrote out his invitations in cursive, making sure each letter was perfect because he knew this birthday was going to be perfect.

TIME SKIP

It was finally his birthday. He kept his eyes on the clock as he paced the length of his living room. His invitations had said to be at his house by one o'clock and it was already one thirty. He began to chew his nails as he tugged on the sleeves of his red hoodie. Did my invitations disappear? He wondered as he adjusted the decorations for the millionth time. He groaned. Why did he put his heart on every cursive letter? He began to pull at his hair. "Tell me why the hell no one is here?!" He screamed to the empty house, hoping that it was just a nightmare. He felt a tap on his shoulder and he turned around, excited. A figure of black shadows grinned at him. "I can tell you what to do to make it all feel better." Stiles backed away from him. "N-No, this...this is just a cruel joke on me." He laughed humorlessly. "Whatever. Just means there's way more cake for me." The figure cackled. "Yeah, forever and ever." Stiles scowled at him. "Shut up and leave me alone. It's supposed to be my birthday party." The figure slid up to him and wrapped a freezing arm around his shoulders. "And you can cry if you want to. There's no shame in that. Cry until the candles burn down this place. Cry until your pity party's in flames." The shadowed man grinned as he saw the tears of misery falling down the human's pale cheeks. 

It was quickly becoming two thirty. Stiles had spent the past hour with the shadow curled into a ball on the floor. "Maybe if I knew all of them well, I wouldn't be trapped inside this hell that holds me." He wiped his face on his sleeve. "Perhaps if you cast out a spell or told them the decorations were in pastel ribbons." The figure offered, changing his decorations before his eyes. "They still wouldn't come. This is just a cruel joke on me but you know what?! Whatever! This means there's way more cake for me forever!" He jumped to his feet and slammed his birthday cake on the floor. The shadowed man watched in interest as the human began to claw at his cake, making it a bigger mess. "It's my fucking party and I'm allowed to cry if I want to!" He screamed, smears of frosting on his face as vanilla crumbs stuck to his hands. "I'll cry until the candles burn down this place! I'll cry until this stupid party's in flames!" He howled, the tear stains being replaced by new ones. The shadow grinned. As the human laughed, he was crying. "It doesn't have to feel like you're dying." The shadow offered. Stiles looked over at him, sniffling with a grin on his face. "How so?" The man sat beside him. "If we become one, you and I will be more powerful than anyone in your pack, even...Derek Hale." Stiles froze, staring at the shadow with wide whiskey brown eyes. "You consider it since it is your party. Cry if you want to or dry those tears with a smile and become powerful." Stiles wiped his hands against his jeans. "B...But we're not going to kill anyone, right?" The shadow smiled. "Of course not, you'll be protector of Beacon Hills with my help, my dear sweet vulnerable human." He held out a hand, small shadows flying away as the setting sun shone down on them. "Look it's almost five and no one has even so much as wished you a happy birthday. They don't care for you Stiles. Take my advice and don't be a dummy." Stiles looked out at the setting sun and the clock that read 4:49. His eyes hardened. "You're right. Today is my party and nobody came but you. It is my party and I'll do what I want." He shook the shadow's hand and gasped as he felt freezing cold fill every fiber of his body. "After all Stiles, there's a hole in the world like a big black pit and it's filled with people who are filled with shit and the vermin of the world inhabit it. But not for long." The shadow forced his way into Stiles' pliant body, shoving the human's soul aside into a corner of his mind. Stiles opened his eyes, letting the black of the shadow fill them. "Now," The shadow said as he flexed Stiles' hands. "Introductions, Stiles. Call me Void." He picked up Stiles' bat and a tanker of gasoline from outside. He poured it along the house, making sure the house was drenched in the smell. He packed a few things from Stiles' room before moving to his father's room. There hidden in a safety box behind the Sheriff's clothes was a gun with several rounds of bullets. He placed them into the backpack and walked out of the house. "Your wish however," He held up a lighter that Stiles had placed inside his hoodie pocket for when it was time to light the birthday candles. "You said you'd cry until the candles burned down this place and until your pity party's in flames. Well, you've stopped crying." He opened the lighter and turned the knob. A small flame flickered, dancing at the end of the lighter. He touched it to the gasoline drenched house. The fire spread til it consumed all of the Stilinski house. The fire shone against the black of Stiles' eyes. "Pretty isn't it?" He asked the human. "I didn't want this!" Stiles screamed inside his own mind. "But you told me it was." Void only smiled as he walked away in Stiles' body.