I stand slightly behind Scott, the wall of the building blocking us from the dozen or so people waiting in line. Supposedly this was the go to spot for getting tickets to some secret rave that everyone is dying to go to. The one Jackson seemed to be drawn to. I try to shake the feeling crawling under my skin. Since last night I can't seem to let it go. It's as if the grim reaper is constantly following me, slowly and eerily getting closer.
My eyes narrow as I watch Jackson's frame move closer and another familiar one come forward. Matt looks over to Jackson with a slight smile, "Hey, Jackson. Not here to punch me again, are you?" From the angle we're at I can't see Jackson's expression, but I assume it isn't anything friendly when Matt's smile slowly grows smaller. "Wanna--wanna go ahead of me in line?"
I lightly place a hand on Scott's shoulder before we share a worried look. My eyes move back over to the taller of the two with my brows drawn together, "Yeah, I'm not loving the vibe of this interaction."
We both step out silently and move towards the line of people ahead of us. We somewhat join in before Scott lets a hiss out from his mouth. I raise an eyebrow in surprise before he does so again, effectively catching Matt's attention. He turns and I notice first the look of confused annoyance as he meets Scott's gaze, then surprise as he notices me next to him, "Uh, hey. Can I help you guys?" His eyes move between the space between us and back. I don't say a word, turning to Scott as this started off as his bright plan of the night.
Scott looks the gated elevator ahead us, a dark skinned girl wearing beanie selling tickets behind it. He looks back to Matt quickly, "How much are tickets?"
Matt lets a calmer expression fall onto face and his shoulder relax slightly," They're seventy-five dollars." My eyes meet Scott's and I know the look of surprised panic is matching. What the hell kind of rave is this? That is a lot of money for loud music and over priced drinks. Plus, the amount of sweaty people. Ugh.
Scott coughs lightly before uttering out the next few words lowly, "Can I borrow some money?" I roll my eyes already guessing how the rest of this conversation is going to go.
Matt doesn't hesitate before nodding slightly, his hand moving towards his front pocket, " Yeah, how much?" I squint slightly, surprised at the sudden willingness to help out a not-friend in need. It's not like the two know each other well, or even run in the same circle. I remember the look on Matt's face last time I had mentioned Scott in front of him. The chill moves down my spine quick before Scott's shrug brings my attention back, "Seventy-five dollars."
Matt makes a cringed face and shakes his head before meeting my eyes again. I try to look away before the, what I am assuming, is supposed to be genuine smile crosses his face. He finally turns back into the line ahead of us. I look to Scott to see the seriously thoughtful look on his face.
"And now what?" I look around as the line moves forward again. Throughout the entire interaction, Jackson has consistently stared ahead. I notice the stiffness of his back as the girl behind the bars yells, "Next!"
He slowly steps forward until he is right in front. I see her eyes become slightly clouded with some kind of emotion before he shakes it off, "How many?"
Suddenly is it eerily silent as I watch Jackson slowly raise one finger up, not a word spoken. I feel the slightest spark in the tip of my fingers as my eyes search the face of the girl in front of me. Her eyes again give away her apprehensiveness of the situation as she slowly takes the money from the silent man in front of her. She reaches back without looking away and takes a lone ticket from the security guard behind her. I watch as Jackson reaches out and lets his hand slide over hers as he removes the ticket from hers.
She pulls her hand back quickly before slowly shaking her head and turns to talk over her shoulder, "Let's get out of here. Let's go," She never removes her eyes from Jackson, but when the elevator doesn't move she speaks with slightly more urgency, "Let's go!"
The elevator suddenly jolts up and the group starts heading up to a higher floor in the building. What I notice the most is Jackson's head slowly lift as it moves, as if he is watching her intently.
Scott suddenly turns to me, letting out a shallow breathe, "We should go to Deaton. Call Derek and have him meet us there."
We both turn away from the now disappointed line of ravers. I pull the cell phone from my pocket as we take he next few steps away.
I place the phone against my ear, the ringing only going on once before a deep voice comes across the line, "Abigail?"
I hold back any emotion, keeping my mind on the situation in front of us, "Hi, Derek. Can you meet us at Scott's job? Preferably at your soonest convince."
"I'll be right there," I hear something thought sounds a hell of a lot like a laugh turned coughing from someone on his side of the line before his voice comes through the phone again, "Are you okay?"
I allow the smallest of smiles to grow before answering, "Yes, I am okay. Just meet me and Scott there. We'll talk more then."
The calls ends at that sentence and I ignore the feeling of Scott's gaze as we climb into my car. "Let's just get to Deaton."
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I stand by the counter as Scott moves forward and unlocks the padlock of the front door. Within a second I hear the annoyance in his voice, "What's he doing here?"
Derek's deeper one follows as he steps into the building, "I need him."
I don't pay attention to who they're talking about as my gaze meets the darker one in front of me. He moves forward and I feel the slight touch of his hand on my lower back as he moves past me. I then feel my own eyes fall into a squint as Isaac's tall frame saunters into the doorway as well. Scott glares following him after he shuts the door quickly, "I don't trust him."
Isaac only rolls his eyes as he leans against the counter, "Yeah, well, he doesn't trust you either." I watch as his eyes move to me with a questioning look, as if expecting me to pipe up as well, but for once I don't. Even after the interaction in chemistry class, I don't have a full opinion on Isaac. I keep recalling Derek's words of his life before. The one he didn't have much of.
Derek's voice breaks me out of my thoughts as he sighs tiredly, "You know what? Derek really doesn't care." He looks around the room, someone missing from the group we have in front of us. "Now where's the vet? Is he gonna help us or not?"
Out of the back room comes a figure, leaning against the open doorway, "That depends. Your friend, Jackson. Are we planning to kill him or save him?"
Deaton raises an eyebrow as both Derek and Scott answer at the same time, but with different outcomes, "Kill him."
"Save him." Scott looks to Derek with wide assertive eyes, "Save him!" Derek just looks at Scott before I clear my throat and his eyes look into mine. We discussed this, if Scott is going to help, and I am going to help, then we are going to do what we can to save Jackson. Not kill him.
Derek lets out a light sigh before giving a nod of his head. Deaton looks between all of us before turning to the room behind him, "In that case, you all can follow me."
We all move into the room and stand around the metal table in the middle. I stand between Scott and Derek, Isaac standing on the other side of Derek. Deaton then places a tray of what looks like different spice bottles before us. Isaac slowly reaches out to touch one when Derek grabs his wrist to stop him, "Watch what you touch."
Isaac pulls his hand back and looks at Deaton with a smirk before leaning down onto the table, "So, what are you? Some kind of witch?"
Deaton picks up one of the bottles, glancing at me quickly, before giving Isaac a sarcastic smirk, "No, I'm a veterinarian." I feely my eyebrows cross at his gaze, but forget it as he places the bottle back down before looking between me, Scott, and Derek. "Unfortunately, I don't see anything here that's going to be an effective defense against a paralytic toxin"
Derek sighs with slight distress, "We're open to suggestions."
Isaac shrugs looking between all of the jars on the table, "What about an effective offense?"
I shake my head before rolling my eyes, "Yeah, we already tried. Derek nearly took his head off. He just gets back up."
Deaton looks between us again with a thoughtful look, "Has it shown any weaknesses?"
"Well, one--it can't swim."
Deaton suddenly looks intrigued by the information, "Does that go for Jackson as well?"
I start to shake my head when Scott confirms my thoughts, "No. He's the captain of the swim team."
Deaton turns to the counter behind him, searching for something, "Essentially, you're trying to catch two people," He turns back and I take notice of the golden coin in his hand. He lifts one side up showing us, "A puppet--" He then turns the coin the other side, "and a puppeteer."
I watch as he places it down onto the table, the wire wrapped showing what almost looked like a person in a Buddhist looking pose, "One killed the husband, but the other had to take care of the wife. Do we know why?"
Scott shrugs shaking his head, somehow I know the past of Jackson is coursing through his mind, "I don't think Jackson could do it. His mother died pregnant too, and she was maybe murdered. I think he couldn't let the same thing happen to someone else."
I think about what the Beastiary stated a little deeper, "What if that is one of the rules? I mean it says, 'The Kanima kills murderers'. If Jackson killed the wife, then the baby would have died too."
Scott then looks to Isaac with what was almost a look of pity, "Does that mean your father was a murderer?"
Isaac doesn't even hesitate before shrugging, "Wouldn't surprise me if he was."
Again, a moment when I think of the life Isaac didn't have. I don't know many details, but it has come very apparent that he didn't have the best life growing up. I can speak for his entire childhood, but from what I had experienced when we visited his house and what has come out since his Father's death; it didn't seem great.
Deaton's head suddenly pops up like an idea just came to him, "Hold on. The book says they're bonded, right? What if the fear of water isn't coming from Jackson, but from the person controlling him? What if something that affects the kanima--" He grabs a jar with a black powder before circling the coin in front of us with it, "also affects its master?"
As in the person controlling Jackson could be hindered by something that can affect him in his Kanima form. Brilliant. Isaac shakes his head confused looking at the powder on the table before him, "Meaning what?"
"Meaning we can catch them," Scott meets my eyes with a look of hopefulness before looking back to Deaton. "Both of them."
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I laid on my bed, not feeling the plush of blanket underneath me. I glance to the alarm clock sitting on the night stand next to my bed.
3:23 am.
I woke up about an hour ago, my body covered in sweat, tears streaming down my face. The only memory from the nightmare being flashes of light coming from every direction, like I was the most famous woman in the world surrounded by paparazzi. And that damned stump, taunting in front of me, as my hands gripped into the mud below my body. Wind blew so hard I felt like if my grip loosened, it would take me away.
I blink away the haze from eyes, returning to the bedroom I resided in. I feel my knuckles crack, and I look down, seeing my hands dripping the journal in my hands so tight my skin was bright white. I force myself to loosen my hold before letting out a sigh and turning open the cover. I skip the pages to where the last entry I had read is. I look down at the cursive lettering, placing my fingers along the words, before I gasp in shock. The thing I feel before the room changes around me is my eyes roll into the back of my head.
A fire burned in a stone fireplace beside me. I look down, tapping my brush tip in ink, before expression my deepest thoughts and secrets onto the paper. Although it has been terrifying, I feel the confidence in my powers growing. Instead of them overcoming my life, I have started to understand them and use them to my need. To the need of others. The nightmares, voices, and visions...to have the sight of another, to be a ghost in room of people and to not have a soul know it. It was a power that fulfills me, and yet, also terrifies me. I didn't know if there was too much, if one day, I would believe I was controlling it just find out it is being used to control me. Grandmother had told me, that although I am an instrument for one of great power, one of great evil could fall upon me just as easily. She told me to listen to every instinct I have, that they are not only mine, but ones of the women before me. The voices guiding me, helping me, are all of those who have lived this prophecy before me. She explained that as they can call upon me, entering my mind and my dreams, I can call to them. Ask them to show me what I need to guide the light. We are a beacon of knowledge and power, but our light can be so easily snuffed out.
I gasp as my eyes start to burn and quickly let the journal close before rubbing them. I move and stand from the bed quickly, moving to the mirror. I rub them one last time before I blink heavily, trying to clear my blurred vision. I freeze when I catch the face staring back at me. I notice nothing different, except for the light small sparks of purple intermixing with the normal blue color of my eyes. I move as close to the mirror as I can, seeing the color just there enough for me to notice. I reach up, rubbing my eyes again before returning my gaze to the mirror. I slowly shake my head when I see nothing, but the normal blue shade residing in there.
The voices guiding me, helping me, are all of those who have lived this prophecy before me.
At the thought I can almost feel a breeze in my room as light whispers come from all around me. Instead of the other times when I feel like they are deafening, this time they are light. They feel almost like they are caressing my soul. Telling me something. After a moment of calm, the overwhelming feeling of death and darkness surrounds me again.
I look back to the journal resting on my bed before moving slowly back over to it. I reach out, pulling the cover open slightly before letting out a sigh and letting it fall closed again. I grab the book, walking over to my shelf, before sliding it between two romance novels. I look back to clock again, deciding a shower was the best next option instead.
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I climb out of the backseat of Stiles' Jeep, throwing the strap of my bag over my shoulder.
"There's gotta be some way we can get tickets, right?" Scott sighs heavily.
I shake my head unsure as Stiles follows us to the side walk leading into the school, "It's a secret show. There is only one to get them, and it's a secret." I begin to roll my eyes before a voice behind us calls my attention.
"Hey," Matt walks over gripping the strap of his bag on his shoulder, "Either of you guys know why no one's getting suspended after what happened the other day at school?
Stiles gives him an asperated look shrugging, "Just forget about it. Nobody got hurt."
Matt looks between us all, his eyes locking onto mine last as he speaks, "I-I had a concussion."
"Well, nobody got seriously hurt." I give Stiles a light glare and head tilt at his tone before looking back to Matt, realizing his eyes are still on mine.
"I was in the E.R. for six hours!"
I move forward between the two boys beside me, ready to fake some sympathy before Stiles groans lightly, "Hey, do you want to know the truth, Matt? Your little bump on the head is about-" He then dramatically lowers his hand a few inches above the side walk below us, "this high on our list of problems right now."
I lightly smack Stiles arm and then grip his jacket to pull him back up to his normal height. I look to Matt and give him a forced look of concern, "Are you okay?" Someone needs to maintain a normal classmate reaction to the situation.
Matt smiles brightly at my attention and nods his head, "Yeah, I'm fine now." He then looks between me and Scott and I see a different emotion pass through his eyes briefly, "So you didn't get any tickets last night either."
Scott shakes his head before tilting it slightly, "Are they still selling?"
"Uh, no, but I managed to find two online." Matt then looks at me with a bright smile. "So, I'm guessing that means you're still up for going with me?"
I blink and can feel my face fill with confusion, "Uh, come again?"
The smile on Matt's face becomes slightly strained at my words, but he keeps his eyes friendly, "Remember? I asked you about it the other day? Outside...the guys locker room?"
I continue to stare at him lost before I feel Scott shove my arm lightly. I cough and nod my head as I actually do recall the interaction slightly. More so the need to get into said locker room, bur regardless. "Oh, yeah, of course,"
Don't trust him.
The words in the book from the library flashed across my mind.
I feel the air between the lot of us become uncomfortable before this time Stiles shoves my arm. Right, this is the perfect way for at least one of his to get into the rave. Although it went against every cell in my body I sent a smile in his direction, "Yes, yeah. I am still up for going with you!"
Matt's smile grows twice as large and he sends me a nod before sending a look to the boys I am standing between, "You should keep trying. Sounds like everyone's gonna be there."
He turns and finally steps away, but it is only seconds before Stiles utters, "Yeah, I don't like him." My fake smile falls as I watch his back moving away. I couldn't agree more.
He looks to me before Scott, "Hey, are you sure about this?"
I only nod, quite unsure of how I got myself into this situation before Scott answers, "Last time; Whoever's controlling Jackson had to kill somebody because he didn't finish the job, so what do you think he's going to do this time?"
I don't give Stiles a chance to answer before I look back to the direction Matt walked away in, "He's going to be there to make sure it happens."
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"Allison!" I watch as she walks out of what looks to be an empty classroom. Her back goes rigid before she slowly turns to face me. "You okay?" I move past a few students in the hall, getting closer to her. I feel a weight coming from the room she just left, as if there is something deeper to the situation.
Her eyes meet mine and she sends me a forces smile, "Hi Abby," I look between her and the door behind her before they meet hers again. "I'm fine. Scott," her voice is quiet and I can see something washing around in her eyes before she shuts it down completely. The mask we've both been taught, and perfected in the last year, falls over her face. "Nothing. I'm okay. I have to get going, though. I'll talk you later."
She turns before another word can fall from my lips. That look...the one I've seen too many times in the mirror. She is hiding something. And to know she is hiding it from me, scares me. Not that I deserve her honesty, not at this point. Not with the amount of things I've hidden and downplayed from her, even if they were for her benefit or protection. I slowly start to walk forward, in the direction of the of the door she had left from, when I see my mother rounding the corner.
My heart begins to pulse as Allison had mentioned Scott, making me think they had a meeting of their own in the room ahead. All I can hope is that our mother didn't see or hear any part of it. The lack of emotion on her face didn't leave me sure of one or the other.
She continued passed me, eyes never falling from ahead of her to meet mine. Yet, deep inside I knew she chose to not see me. Since the moment in the kitchen when she had cut herself cooking, she hasn't looked or said much in my direction. Leaving me to wonder if my dad had to spoken to her, enlightened her, about their own daughter.
The one who didn't seem to exist anymore.