Someone shoot me, I think this is the most horrible thing I've ever written. I am becoming Jeff Davis. Satan himself. You will not enjoy this one bit. And I've just realised I need to change the rating because violence n what not. Don't worry it's not done yet, I'm just evil and can't help with the cliff hangers.
Stiles barely felt himself hit the floor.
He couldn't help crying out repeatedly as he felt it twisting inside his thigh, causing a pain so excruciating he wanted to be sick. He clutched at the wound, desperately trying to pull whatever was in there out, but his hands met nothing.
He heard Scott shouting as Lydia fell to her knees next to him, tears forming in her eyes.
The word "Stop" echoed through the room repeatedly, but an echo was all it was for the white hot agony stuffing his senses.
There was one more wrench, one more flash of intense pain, and then relief as the kitsune tail was pulled out.
He felt a sob leave his lips as he fell back into the arms of the banshee. Huge splintered breaths rattled his body.
As his senses swept in on him, his stomach turned, his head rang, his leg throbbed, but the main thing he noticed was that Deaton was reading again, faster now, more forcefully, more panicked.
The Nogitsune was laughing, a manic, strained sound. It hadn't fallen this time. Instead it remained standing, holding the now bloodied tail at the end of an outstretched twitching arm.
"I'll kill him, Scott."
Deaton paused again. Stiles felt Scott's eyes connect with his own, full of panic, full of fear, full of pain.
"All it takes is one cut to the stomach, just like before, and Stiles will bleed to death in seconds. So break the line and I might let you and your friends live."
Deaton looked from the Nogitsune to the shaking figure of Stiles, from Stiles to Scott, utterly clueless of what to do.
"Deaton, carry on."
Stiles voice was the sound of something tortured and broken, just like his body. He could hear the glass in his throat, the acid in his chest.
"He's bluffing. If I die he dies too. We know that."
Deaton looked for reassurance from Scott, who nodded, though his face was everything but sure. The Nogitsune stumbled backwards as Deaton started up again, letting out an icy yell full of rage and desperation and pain.
There couldn't be long left now. Surely there couldn't be long left.
Stiles hopes were proven right as the Nogitsune once again fell to the floor and started convulsing. A cough came from its mouth followed by a wisp of black smoke that quickly dissipated into the air. It looked as if it was choking, gagging.
Somehow through the spasms, it managed to place a palm flat on the floor and push its torso from the ground. It stared at Scott, who looked down upon its dying form in disgust.
The Nogitsune's next words were unexpected to everyone in the room. Because they served as a warning to something inevitable. Something horrific.
"You underestimate me." It said. Though pained, the iota of a smile remained in its voice.
Scott's eyes suddenly widened as the Nogitsune raised the blade once more.
"Deaton stop!"
But it was too late.
Stiles felt a sudden agony flare across his stomach. Then a scream of panic from both of his best friends. Then a set of strong hands pressing down on him, where some sort of red substance flowed between the fingers. Then numbness.
He would welcome death like the arms of his father.