(ON HOLD) Stiles Stilinski ~ The Decay Of The Waves ~

Chapter Nineteen

He couldn't.

He couldn't control it. He thought he could but it was impossible. The siren was too strong to even begin to fight back. It had whispered wretched words in Stiles' ear for as long as he could remember; it had always been there, always. And one second of weakness was all it took. For that single moment, Stiles gave in and in that very juncture, the siren leapt into control. As soon as the azolla caroliniana's poison entered his system, the battle had begun.

Stiles remembered waking up from the coma feeling different, stronger, not the same. The balance had been tipped against his favour.  That nurse. The nurse that he had killed. It was his powers that had stopped her heart. The doctors had managed to resuscitate her, yes, but he had still killed her.

How could he let this happen? Because of his weakness, he had lost every friend, broken every bond that he had ever made. He had no one: no Scott, no pack, no father. No one to turn to. No one to help him - not that he could be helped. The blackness had invaded his heart like a deadly curse and there was no turning back. Most of him embraced it like it should but a single shred of what once was Stiles remained. It clung of with all of it's might, refusing to be stomped out, that final ember of what used to be. It was too small to be of any use however, nothing could beat the darkness inside him - that at least was obvious.

The siren had already murdered countless people, Theo - or rather Galit - included. Yes, he never liked Theo one bit but he killed the boy in cold blood and now that blood was added to the thick layers that had already dried upon his skin. Allison and Aiden's blood was spilt on his hands. 'So what's some more, eh?' No, he couldn't think like that, no not again. 'Come on, it's not like you didn't enjoy it!' Shut up. Shut up!

'It doesn't matter what you think Stiles, I am in control not you. And do you know what's bothering me the most out of all of this? It's you Stiles. How could you and I can be the same person? You are so pathetic and powerless. I am so much more than you will ever be Stiles. I will do what you were always destined to do, wreak havoc and destruction.

After all Stiles, it has always been the thing you were best at.'

~•~

Assana walked into Stiles' new chambers.

She designed them especially for him; the walls were tiled with polished basalt and the floors were paved with a dark mosaic of obsidian and emerald. The mosaic depicted many of the sirens' victories over the past few decades: the battle of Galathea Depths, the battle of Tonga Trench and of course the complete and utter destruction of Altantis. The floor showed the battle for those golden gates and then a beautiful image of Atlantis' new queen sitting on the throne that once belonged to Stiles' mother. A different smell lingered low in the water, a hot smell like heated metal,

Assana peaked around the corner of that brilliant corridor and looked into Stiles' bedroom. How disappointed his mother would be to see him now, a siren. It was certain that he was, Assana was monitoring his every action just to make sure he wasn't faking it but now she new it was true. Laying on the bed, Stiles slept. He was shedding his scales; hundreds of silver shards were scattered in the waters around him and in their place grew the telltale black ones. Some of Stiles' original scales remained, unwilling to be lost, but Assana knew that they wouldn't last for long. Soon Stiles would be forever like her, faster, stronger, more powerful. She had faith in him and in what he could become. It had been foretold; it was his destiny. Even Claudia had foreseen it. However there was nothing she could do, after all she is dead!

Assana knew that Stiles was becoming the person she needed, the ambassador for the people; he could gain the people's trust and show her every weakness they had. Stiles had potential to be what Assana needed. You see, Assana had ambition. So much ambition. She didn't just want to have the entire ocean in the palm of her hand; she wanted the land as well, even if it meant that she had to kill to get it. She was looking for a conqueror.