Crying in the shower had become my new thing. Everything that had happened had all become too much. Like something was building up in my chest making it hard to breathe. But something about the warm water, the smell of my apple shampoo, it made me feel calmer.
So that’s where I was now. I’d spent a good fifteen minutes in the shower, sitting on the floor, crying about my brother. What had happened to him? How could I have let this happened to him?
I should’ve seen it coming. With every nightmare I’d coax Stiles out of. Every random riddle he’d be yelling that I would slowly explain to him. The fact that he was getting thinner and paler and I never said a goddamn word.
Slowly I shut off the water, wrapping a warm towel around me.
This was my least favourite part. With every rub I was slowly losing my blanket of warmth and comfort.
Sighing I pull on a pair of sweatpants and Stiles lacrosse jersey. Sad I know.
I towel dry most of my hair, lazily throwing the perfectly fine towels into the hamper as I couldn’t be bothered folding them.
I resumed my usual spot on my bed, picking up my phone before I hear a key in the lock on the front door. I frowned and got up going to the window. Dad wasn’t supposed to be home for hours.
His car wasn’t outside. So who the hell was that walking through my kitchen?!
I scanned my room quickly before picking up Stiles’ baseball bat that was propped against my bed.
I slowed my breathing, slowly creeping to behind the door. I could now hear them ascending the stairs, their footsteps loud and meaningful.
My heart was racing but I still controlled my breathing. But I’m guessing whoever that was is most likely not human and can already hear my heartbeat. But they had a key, I told myself, my hands shaking slightly,
They were right outside my door now, I could see their shadow under the door.
Slowly the door handle was pulled down and my door was pushed open. I swung around from my hiding place, bat aimed high and forceful.
A cold white hand gripped the metal bat, stopping it in the air just above his head. It was Stiles.
Except it wasn’t.
This was not my brother. This was not the boy I knew and loved.
His skin was deathly white, with black circles around his dark soulless eyes. His lips were chapped and I nearly cried just looking at him.
I opened my mouth to scream, to shout, too at least say something!
“Speechless, sweetheart?” He smirked. Even his voice was cold. Like a slap in the face. And sweetheart?
Slowly he began lowering the bat to my side. I didn’t stop him.
“Let’s go sweetheart. Time to leave.” He spoke to me like I was a child. I backed away from him, my feet catching on the carpet. I couldn’t take my eyes off of him.
“Now Y/N,” He pouted slightly, and I stared into his eyes. His dark black eyes that were so different from Stiles’ golden amber one.
“Y/N, don’t be difficult.” I shook my head, still not uttering a word.
He sighed, looking at something on the wall. He leaned over to it and pulled a picture off of me and him… no! Of me and Stiles on our first day of freshman year.
“So Y/N,” He said, looking up at me like I was a fascinating piece of art that he was trying to understand.
“What will it be? Will you come with me?” He held up the photo facing the picture side at me, showing me the two smiling faces. “Or them?” And he nodded to the dark Omni that had evaporated in behind me, their glowing green dots of eyes staring at me.
