Voices T.W. UNDER REVISION

02- Revised

"Who did you see?" Stiles asks. "Carrie? Who was it?"

"I saw Mom." I reply.

He scoffs and shakes his head. He runs his hands through his hair and paces the floor.

"That's impossible."

"She's a banshee," Deaton says as he walks into the room. "she can see death from the past and future, it's remarkable it came out on its own."

He pulls a flashlight out of his pocket. He clicks the light on and pulls my eyelids up. The light blinds my sensitive eyes.

"That's not possible... I'm a werewolf, Deaton." I reply, he smiles slightly and shakes his head.

He turns the small light off and walks to the other side of the room.

"Being supernatural is complicated, certain emotions invoke parts of yourself. Grief, pain, guilt, nostalgia- that's the banshee side. Anger, denial, regret, revenge- that's the wolf side." Deaton explains.

Deaton hands me a camera. Stiles and I look down at the camera and furrow our brows.

"What am I supposed to do with this?" I ask.

"Just hold it." He adds.

"Whose camera is this anyway?" I ask.

"Matt Daehler, you remember him- right?" Deaton asks.

The maniac that paralyzed Derek and Stiles? The maniac who shot Scott in front of Melissa?
The maniac who stalked Allison and had private pictures of her? The maniac who shot me in the chest? The maniac who randomly disappeared, never to be seen again?
Yeah I think I remember him.

"Why do you have his camera?" I hesitantly ask.

"Scott hid it in the supply closet after everything happened with him. Matt had pictures of you on it." Deaton explains. "I want you to hold it and think of how that makes you feel."

"Deaton, don't. I just got her back, I can't have her falling down another rabbit hole."

"Stiles, I'll be fine." I reply, he rolls his eyes.

I hold the small black camera in my hands and gasp. Matt's sinister smirk flashes across my eyes.

He shot us. He paralyzed Stiles and Derek... he deserves to die. I swear if I see that maniac ever again, I'm going to rip every limb from his body and feed it to him. I'm going to make him suffer the way he made us suffer.

My body becomes heavy as more memories of him flood my brain. 

I see water, lots of water. I see a boy drowning. Dancing bodies, lots of bodies. Drinking, talking, groping in the pool. Music blares in the background. Maybe a pool party. The boy continues to drown while all of the bodies are carrying on.

"Somebody help him!" I scream.

Nobody helps him. They continue dancing, drinking, and talking. He flails on the surface, trying to get out. He isn't kicking his feet- he must not know how to swim. Shit!

I take a deep breath and get ready to swim to him since no one else will save him. I happen to look up. Allison lays on the side of the pool, covered in blood.

Her hand floats along the surface of the pool. Her body lay peacefully on the concrete. She coughs and holds her bleeding stomach.

Allison? How is she here? Why is she bleeding? Where am I?

"Allison?! Holy shit... hold on, I'm coming. Stay with me!"

I swim towards her but the kid is almost at the bottom of the pool. Damn you, guilty conscious! I turn around and swim down to him. I grip his shirt sleeve and pull him towards me. I look down- its Matt. Just as we almost get to the surface, I pause in the water. I don't feel right, my heart practically pounds through my chest.