Disclaimer: I do not own Teen Wolf.
An: Hiya Friendships. This story is why I haven't been updating Eleven Days, Crave, or Of Love And Insanity. Why? Because a song came on the radio and I had to literally stop everything amd write this down so here it is! This is an AU sort of. It takes place directly after Lydia wakes up. When she's running through the woods, you know, naked. This is the first chapter. So yeah. Enjoy.
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If you could only see the beast you've made of
me,
I held it in but now it seems you've set it
running free.
Screaming in the dark, I howl when we're apart
Drag my teeth across your chest to taste your
beating heart
My fingers claw your skin, try to tear my way in
You are the moon that breaks the night for which I have to howl...
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...
She didn't know what was happening.
She didn't know what was going on.
She was dying.
This had to be death. This chest clenching, skin crawling, can't breathe, heart racing, face burning feeling. It had to be death, a heart attack or a stroke. Brain aneurysm. Something. She felt...she didn't know what she felt.
Like something was trying to claw its way out of her, destroy her so thoroughly that there was nothing left inside but it. Rip her through. Become her. Take her over. Her skin itched, her stomach rolled. She fell to the the leafy ground, wondering how she'd even got to there, digging her fingers into the soft earth. Clawing it. Clenching it between her fingers, under her nails.
She screamed, throwing her head back with some feral urge that she couldn't control. Her mind forcing her to do it. No...it wasn't her mind...it was her body. This primordial urge that she couldn't explain making her call out for something she did not know. Make these noises that she couldn't stop. That hurt her throat that had never made such horrible sounds. Such painful sounds. The sounds that came out of her throat weren't human sounds.
They were howls. Horrid, lonesome howls of despair. Of coldness. She was cold. Her skin ached, her blood itched. She drew her hands to her naked body, searching her skin for something anything that would make her feel this way. Trying to find what was wrong. This was wrong.
This was right.
Her hand searched her skin, scratching against her flesh and marking it with dirt. Her arms. Her legs. Her stomach. Her chest. Her face. Nothing. Nothing was wrong and everything was right. Everything was perfect. There was nothing. Her dirt stained hands marked her body with earth, feeling the element against her sensitized skin. It was right. This was right. This was how she should be. This is what she wanted. What she needed. It smelled like home.
It smelled like hers. It was hers.
She went on all fours, low against the ground and almost touching it with her dirt smeared flesh. She crawled through the high grass, her bare body surrounded by nature. This was her element. This was where she belonged. She belonged to it and it belonged to her. The forest was hers and she knew it, she could feel it in her body down to her toes. She heard an owl in the tree above her, a field mouse twisting into its dug out home at the sound, missing snake slithering in search of its meal. Predators stalking their kill. It wasn't theirs. She crouched lower, curling with her bare body on the leaves. She caught the tiny motion with her eyes, rearing back with her muscles clenching.
And then she pounced.
Lydia stared at her hand in shock, her big eyes staring down at the field mouse in her palm. She'd caught it. Not the owl. Not the snake. Her. She was the hunter here. The Predator. Something inside of her told her that everything else was prey. The mouse wriggled, its tiny heart racing with fear. With being caught. She could hear its heart. She could.
And it felt right. The sound of caught prey.
She let the mouse go, watching it duck and scurry. It had bit her. Red blood welling on the palm of her hand. But there was something else there now. It wasn't just the blood. It was claws. The tips of her fingers cut with painful claws that hurt as they grew out slow. They were a predator's weapons. Hers.
Her body bowed, her muscles contracting painfully. She threw her head back again, howling a hurtful plea. Searching. Calling for someone. Anyone. She hurt. Her body hurt. Her skin hurt. Her fingers hurt.
But it was so right.
She couldn't even question it. It was just right. Her crawling naked through the forest, claws on her hands in the dirt and fangs that pained her mouth as they grew. Her eyes went dark then sharpened, the vision better than it had ever been. Her head hurt. Spun.
As her senses strengthened, her mind dulled. Eventually only one thought remained.
The Hunt.
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An: Chapter two on its way!