A BANSHEE'S CRY

by: EdgarCaskett22

Stiles wasn't himself. He truly wasn't. It felt like a dream. He had been dreaming so much, how could he be sure. It felt real, she felt real. But, it couldn't be. He couldn't be. But, he was doing it. He almost liked it. It was Lydia Martin, after all. She was the one true love of his life, his heart's desire, or so believed (wished was more like it).

"Stop it!"

He felt the goose-flesh on her skin as he touched her, so soft and silky. (Just like you imagined) He heard the tear of her blouse as she pulled away. He wasn't going to allow it. (She was ours, and it was damned time that she acted like it.) The being inside of him, this Kitsune, this shadow, was feeding off of his dark desires, and it had finally found his most powerful desire.

"Get off of me!"

They fell to the ground. A mist of blood sprayed. Was it his, or hers? (It didn't really matter.) Dark thoughts entered Stiles head, (Fuck her good. That would show her we mean business.) He wouldn't listen, he mustn't listen. As much as he wanted her, needed her, he was willing to wait for her. But this, what he was doing, he would never be able to forgive himself. If he did it, then she would hate him for all time. (Good.) The darkness was too strong, it pushed him to act. (You want this, she wants this. You just have to show her. Then she will be ours, forever. Just like that.)

"No, Stiles, not like this."

He heard the scream, a shriek, inside of his head. Or was it on the outside, he wasn't sure. She was screaming like a banshee. (Fucking Bitch!) She was a banshee, after all. Stiles had tried his hardest to shield his thoughts of her from the Kitsune that had invaded him. It first got a taste of her that night he couldn't wake, and now it was getting a full taste of what she had meant to him, what she still means. He had failed and she was now paying the price for his objections. He tore her undergarments with ease. (Not much too it.) He forced himself inside of her.

"STOP!"

It was his first time, and the Kitsune knew it. Not that it cared, (FILTHY WHORE! YOU DESERVE WHAT YOU GET!) It fed off of his dark thoughts, thoughts that he would best forget, they were animalistic, feral. A wolf or maybe a fox, he wasn't sure, all he knew is he felt like an animal. He was disgusted with himself.

"Please, stop this!"

Her screams did nothing to him, he couldn't stop. They only fueled the dark desire in his heart and the shadow in his soul. He forced himself deeper and deeper, harder and harder. He felt the wetness of her, she enjoyed it? (Told you.) She couldn't be enjoying this. There was no way.

"AHH!"

He stared into her deep, puffy, eyes. Was it pleasure or pain? What was the sensation he was causing her. But he couldn't see. He was lost, as he searched for himself, his true self, inside of those eyes.

"…."

It was unmistakable, she was crying. Her screams had failed her, and now she was just a girl, powerless to defend herself from the likes of this shadow, of the like of Stiles. (Don't pay attention to the wet swollen face.) Stiles slowed. It was the power of her tears. (She is just a piece of trash. Use her and throw her away.) Its power waned.

"Stiles…"

She was finally reaching him. The tears in her eyes were more powerful than any shriek she could muster from her powerful lungs. To Stiles, her eyes were the most powerful things in the world. They could slay any demon, even if that demon was him. (She deserves it, keep going.) Stiles stood, looking down to the fear and hatred he had just caused. He wanted to take out his hand and let her up. But he didn't trust himself. He would never again.

"Why?"

There was no redemption for him, not as long as Lydia Martin was in his life. Every time she would look at him, every time she came to him mind, he would know he was evil. He was the villain of her story now, and would never be her prince. Things could have been different. Things seemed like they were going to be different. That magical day is gone now. It had vanished without a trace.

"Why?"

She began to come to her feet, her eyes relentlessly upon him. There was nowhere to hide, from those soulful eyes. He began to run. Outside, into the darkness, he fled. Never to return. Never? (We will see, Stiles, We will see.)

"Why?"

THE END