They’re everywhere. The voices. The sounds. They jumble up inside my brain, cloud my ears. I grip my head between my hands. I pull at the blonde locks in an attempt to rid myself of the offending noises. With each new sound, I flinch.

“They’re going to burn us.”

…

Clang. Click-clack. Clang.

…

 “I want to do it here so I can be close to her.”

…

“Currents…”

…

“YOU CAN’T KILL ME!”

The last one drops me to my knees and I huddle over, trying to close everything out. They don’t stop. I hear screaming and people dying. I hear metal clanging against other metals. There’s a chant in my mind that just won’t stop. The part that terrifies me the most is some of the voices in my head are familiar.

I crawl to my bathroom, my stomach clenching against the pain in my head. I’ve just made it when I feel everything leave my stomach. My body heaves and aches until I finally fall against the floor. As I lay there, I see flashes of a couple sitting on a bed.

…

“I can’t do it,” the woman says, the knife in her hands lowering to her stomach. She looks to the man beside her. They wear identical, grief stricken looks. His deepens at his wife’s hidden meaning. He plays dumb, not wanting to do what she wants to ask of him.

“Help me, Chris. Please, help me,” she says.

He takes her into his arms and kisses the side of her head. They look out the window, the full moon now high in the sky. She feels the powerful effect of the moon already beginning to take over. She pleads with Chris again, begging him to end it before either change their minds. Before another forces their hand.

Chris guides the knife into her heart, her hand wrapped around his. She gasps at the sudden pain but it’s brief. Her hand falls away from his. Chris kisses his wife’s head one last time and he feels the last breath she’ll ever take leave her body.

…

I gasp back tears. The couple. I recognize them as the Argent’s. Allison’s parents. Despite not knowing them, or knowing Allison very well, I weep for the family. The scene, no matter how unnecessary, was heartbreaking. I ache for Allison when she finds out.

Charlie…

I sit up. My head whips around, searching for the voice.

Charrrlie…

With every bit of strength that remains in my body, I push myself up. I force myself to take the steps through my apartment.

CHARLIE!

I turn. It’s a woman’s voice. There’s something so familiar about it. Something that draws me in. I open the front door of my apartment and step out into the cold, night air but I barely feel it. Even in my pajama shorts and Derek’s t-shirt. The further I walk, the louder the voice gets. Each step is nonsensical and seemingly without direction.

As I walk, the other voices and sounds start to fade until all that’s left is the woman’s voice. She guides me into the woods but I don’t notice. I don’t notice the twigs stabbing into my feet. I don’t notice sticks and leaves clinging to my hair. I don’t even notice when I trip down a hill.

It’s not until my knees scrape against something that I become aware of my surroundings. All that can be seen are miles upon miles of trees. At my knees is the remains of a once large tree. It’s been cut down to knee level. One lone twig grows out the top of it. I lean forward, placing a hand on it.

Almost ever since I arrived in Beacon Hills, I’ve felt the violence and danger surround me like a plague. Touching this tree, it intensifies. The danger is unimaginable. I can feel the violence tearing at my soul. Jerking my hand away, I grasp at my chest. It’s like this trunk has spent the past decade absorbing all the pain and anguish in this town.

I take two small steps away, still feeling its effects. I feel a familiar dull ache and as another flash takes over me, I fall against the trunk.

…

“Lydia,” Derek whispers as he comes to. He looks around and notices the familiar, burnt remains of his house. Lydia drags him over the dust covered floors before dropping him by a huge hole in the floor. A hole that was hiding the dead remains of a werewolf.

“Lydia. Stop,” Derek says. He’s weak from the wolf’s bane she used on him.

Lydia ignores him. She barely even notices him except to place his forearm in the deceased’s hand. Derek tries to pull it free but he isn’t even able to move fully. It’s almost as though he’s touched kanima venom except he can feel the weakness in his body.

He continues to plead with Lydia. Asking her to stop. Telling her she doesn’t know what she’s doing. Nothing gets through to her. After making sure the two are securely attached, she stands and walks across the room. Derek watches, helplessly, as she turns a mirror to catch the moon light and it bounces off from the other, strategically placed mirrors in the room.

The light illuminates the body in the hole. For a moment, nothing happens. Then Derek feels the pain as sharp claws pierce his skin. He gasps, feeling the glow of his eyes and even feeling it fade away as the man in the hole uses Derek’s power as an alpha to gain strength.

Floorboards fly as the man jerks to life. He releases Derek’s arm and Derek moves away as much as he can. The man climbs out of the hole and Derek watches in fear as he towers over the alpha and Lydia. Cold, blue eyes dance between the two and the man smirks. Lydia is on the verge of screaming and Derek is trying his hardest to back away despite his strength leaving him at every moment.

“I heard there was a party,” the man says and chuckles. “Don’t worry. I invited myself.”

…

I gasp out of the scene, my breathing hitching in my lungs. I don’t even realize that I’ve curled up onto the tree trunk, gripping my legs to my chest as though I might fall apart. Everything is jumbled together and I can’t make sense of it. People are in trouble. I can feel it but I can’t isolate it.

Hopeless. That’s how I feel. I crawl off of the tree trunk and fall onto the ground. Twigs and rocks dig into my palms, cutting them. For a moment I think about Derek. He’s going to go ballistic when he sees all these cuts on my body.

I sit there, staring at my hands, feeling sorry for myself. The voices are still there. The other sounds. I’ve tried to block them out. They just won’t go away. It’s not just the normal voices, either. All day I’ve been hearing everything. Conversations in other rooms. The ding from the coffee shop door down the road. It’s like I’ve gained supernatural hearing.

Gun shots ring through my ears and I clasp my hands over them. It doesn’t drown them out. In fact, it seems to make the sounds louder. It’s as though someone’s shooting a gun right next to me. Images of the police station flash through my mind. The people there are in danger.

My lungs swell and release the loudest, most painful scream to ever escape my lips.

A/N: It's short but it's important. Anyone recognize anything in the beginning?