Stiles could still hear the echoes of the screaming souls coursing through his throbbing head. When he opened his eyes however, he realized he was no longer in that vast room he previously stood in and neither Scott nor Rosalie were anywhere to be seen. Same went for Euriella and the apprentice. He was on his own; he was not lying on the floor where he'd landed after being stricken by the apprentice. He was standing, facing a long, dark hallway ahead of him, one that seemed to fade the further away Stiles tried to look.
"Scott?" he tried calling for Scott but the only response he received were the echoes of his own voice bouncing back towards him from the walls.
He called Scott's and Rosalie's names a few times before finally deciding to take his first steps through that hallway. The longer he walked down that path the more he felt the atmosphere around him getting heavier, further pressuring his insides. He could hear a constent, everlasting ambiant muffledness, like his ears were submerged underwater.
It wasn't very long, until he perceived what he thought were doors, plastered on either side of the never-ending walls trapping him in that narrow, straight line. he approached the first one to his left with apprehension; he grasped then slowly turned the knob to open it. But the moment he peeked through the small crack he'd made, his entire body tensed up, causing his hand to release its hold on the door, which allowed it to open all the way, giving him full view to the content of the space behind the door.
He gawked at the sight of the morgue in front of him, he recognized it to be the hospital morgue, but he could not understand why he was able to access it from... Wherever he was at that moment. Before he could linger on the thought however, he was drawn out of it by another sound, coming from further down the hallway. The sound of a door creaking open.
Stiles chose to follow the sound and thus ignore every other door on his way towards the one. He halted once he thought he caught sight of it. One slightly open door among all others. He gently pushed it with care, anxious of what could be lurking behind it.
Once again, nothing could have prepared him for what awaited him in there. Stiles had to make sure his jaw didn't fall to the floor, his hand automatically gravitating towards the door frame for support, "What... What is this? Wh...," he uttered with a shaky voice, trailing off towards the end.
"You had a pretty nice room. I've never really had one of my own. Not one this good, at least," said the nogitsuné from where he sat. Or who Stiles thought was the nogitsuné.
Upon hearing his words, Stiles' eyes traveled across the room. It was his childhood room, the one he had when he used to live with his father. The nogitsuné was seated on a chair, fronting a small wooden table that held a squared surface board on its top; it was a chess board.
"He keeps me in this place that I... Can't recognize. He makes me play this game; I think you know it; it resembles chess in many aspects, it's called "go". I don't know for how long I've been there with him," said the nogitsuné.
"What do you mean? What... Are you talking about? What is this place? What do you want?" torn between his thoughts, Stiles couldn't figure out which question to ask so, he asked all of them at once. At first, he thought that the nogitsuné was talking about the apprentice keeping him somewhere but then... He thought it didn't add up. Or at least, it didn't seem like it.
"I thought that... My existence would finally mean something by giving it away... That I would finally make some change, that it would get better... But...," he looked away from the chess pieces on the board towards Stiles, his gaze heavy with sorrow, or so it appeared.
For a moment, Stiles wondered if it was the nogitsuné speaking to him or... The original owner of the body he was looking at. Although, he didn't get the time to ponder on the idea, for another voice called for his attention. A far away sounding one, coming from the deepest, furthest corners of the hallway he was traversing.
"So, what will it be, Scott?"
Stiles had heard that voice before but couldn't correspond a face to it at the time. He stepped back out of the room he'd entered and began to run down the corridor, leaving who he wasn't sure was the nogitsuné behind himself, hoping to draw closer to the new voice he'd heard.
He ran until he saw the light that guided him out of his nightmares. Stiles opened his eyes again, very slowly. Only for them to fall on Derek's figure a few feet away from him. He did not seem in a better shape than him. He was incapacitated, lying on the floor, barely able to move.
"It's either one or the other. You cannot have it both ways, I am afraid," the man said again.
"It doesn't have to be that way,"
Stiles was finally able to hear Scott's voice. Although, he seemed to be in a predicament of his own, grunting his words at whoever was talking to him. Stiles did his best to move his head towards the voices, in order to get a view of the happening since he still couldn't move the rest of his body.
He quickly understood that things in the room were different since he'd fallen unconscious. As he'd already noticed, Derek was lying on his chest a distance away from him, but... He wasn't the only one. Boyd, Erica, Kali and Anas were there as well, just as unconscious as he was.
"You're trying to reason with me. Just what I thought you'd do. I commend you for it, but I am afraid, you and I cannot see eye to eye on the matter. So, once again, it is either her or them. Which is it going to be?" that voice spoke again.
A pair of feet came into view, a woman's, he thought. One that towered over Derek. Upon hearing the man's words, she came closer to his body before lifting one foot and setting it right on the back of Derek's neck.
His sight was still hazy, but Stiles could still put the pieces together, nonetheless. The apprentice was forcing Scott to choose between the life of his friends and something he had yet to know what it was. He gathered his strength in order to push his own body off the floor. He'd managed to lift himself up, just enough to see that the apprentice was holding Rosalie by her neck, making Scott stare into her eyes as he slowly squeezed the life out of her.
"Allow me to give you another demonstration, then," said the apprentice, before bringing his hand up then swiftly spearing it through Rosalie's chest like it was nothing but foam to him.
"No!" screamed Scott.
Stiles watched silently as he stumbled back up to his feet. Barely able to withstand his own weight, he could do nothing other than watch... And wait for Rosalie to draw her last breath, as her blood rapidly escaped her body, her heart resting in the apprentice's hand. He finally allowed her empty husk to fall to the floor, before tossing what was left of her heart along with her.
Her eyes were still open when she hit the ground and Stiles couldn't avert his gaze away from hers... He thought he caught the last train of thoughts that ran through her mind the moment her soul left their world.
"Stop! Why are you doing this?"
Scott's voice resonated across the room and shook Stiles' core. He was finally able to move his eyes away from Rosalie's. Scott was visibly shaking. From anger? Despair? Fear? Stiles could not be sure.
"Some things are necessary, and others are... A simple coincidence but some, don't work in our favor, while others do. We tend to call those, fate,"
The apprentice's gaze left Scott in order to land on Stiles. Scott looked back and forth between the apprentice and Stiles, possibly thinking that Stiles was his new target. His eyes flashed red right before he jumped at the apprentice in a futile attempt to stop him. Scott did not make it very far, however. He dropped to his knees just as fast as his eyes went back to their human color, his hands firmly clasping his ears.
"Superbe timing!" exclaimed the apprentice in his unchanging calm tone.
He seemed to be looking through Stiles and not at him. Stiles had the strangest feelings at that moment, like something or... Someone was inviting him to look behind himself, just for a moment...
Stiles slowly turned around, his heart threatening to sink deeper into his guts. But when he finally laid eyes on it... On him, his heart didn't just sink. It raced to the bottom, to the deepest tranche of his soul.
Noah Stilinski, or what was left of him, stepped into the light, towards Stiles.
"I must say that, at first, I wasn't very thrilled to hear about what you've done but... I came around to see it for the brilliant idea that even I did not think of,"
Stiles looked back towards the apprentice, to see that Fisher was standing by his side. He did not care to probe the infinite number of theories and ideas flooding his mind at that moment. Instead, he focused back on his... Father.
Stiles could barely recognize him. His eyes, his claws, his fangs... Made him something other than the loving father he knew...
"D... Dad?" he uttered with a trembling voice, but Noah did not show any sign of awareness.
"It is imperfect for lack of testing but... I believe that sometimes, beauty is in one's imperfection," said the apprentice proudly, "So... Scott, I'll ask you again. What will it be? The life of your friends or hers?"
Hers? It took Stiles a moment to figure out who the apprentice meant by hers... Euriella's... He wanted Scott to choose between killing Euriella or watching his friends die before his eyes...
To call it cruel would be... A monumental understatement. It would not even begin to cover it. But with the woman, Jennifer, pressing further down Derek's neck. Another creature that distantly resembled Matt, threatening to end Boyd and Erica's lives. Noah Stilinski dangerously approaching Stiles... Scott was more and more backed into a corner...
"You'll see. It isn't that hard. I've done it times and times over and you can too," Euriella's voice came to Stiles's ears. She kneeled very close to Scott, who was getting back to his feet. Stiles couldn't tell if she was being genuine or not. Did she really want Scott to kill her? Or was it the apprentice's idea and she was forced to comply?
Either way, Scott had to make a choice, otherwise... Everyone else was going to die. But it seemed... That he already had. Scott gave one last look towards Stiles before flashing his eyes red again, lifting his arm up before quickly bringing it down towards Euriella's throat.
Everything after that was nothing but a blur in Stiles's mind. He could hear people scream; he could see people run around him but... He couldn't tell whom the voices belonged to. Nor could he tell about their figures. He felt a set of hands grab him and drag him away, but he'd completely lost the will to even try after what he'd seen his best friend become. Scott had moved so fast that Stiles couldn't distinguish everything about him. The best he could tell, was that Scott looked the furthest from a human than he ever had.