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Working t.i.tle: The Nogitsune: Stiles Stilinski

"What is greater than G.o.d, more evil than the devil,

the poor have it, the rich need it,

and if you eat it, you will die?"

It has been several weeks since the Nogitsune was 'defeated' and the terror that once was routinely part of everyone's lives seemingly returned to normal. If there is one thing about the human mind, worth more than gold, it is the ability to forget. All humans forget the hurt, they forget they forget pain, they even forgot themselves.

'No, that's not me. That's not me! It's him!t's—, it's the Nogitsune!' He screams, as his body There he was, stabbing Scott his best friend, his brother— and then twisting the sword as leisurely as a feeling of pleasure overcame his senses. He was feeding off the pain, strife and chaos!

The constant flashes of himself,the acts which sullied his hands, occupied his dreams—no, more accurately— his current nightmares.

Then, there was the scene of Allison Argent laying in Scott's arms; writhing in death and the sounds of a banshee shrieking permeated the underground tunnel to near destruction.

"Answer me!" A voice demands to him.

"Everyone has it, but no one can lose it... What is it?"

"Everyone has it, but no one can lose it... What is it?"

"Everyone has it, but no one can lose it... What is it?"

The voice chants repeatedly, over and over again. The voices echoing around his head and taking a hold of him.

"Come on, Stiles." It urges in a whisper, embodies in obscure darkness. "You know the answer." It murmured in his ear, p.r.i.c.kling them. . He can feel the drag of each breath as the Nogitsune lingered his lips close to his ears, "Let me in, Stiles. I can give you everything you ever wanted: Lydia, Malia… Your mother. I can bring them back for you. You no longer have to be Scott's defenseless, powerless human buddy." The dark, wrapped hands curled around his shoulders."Who has to stand and watch as he puts everyone at risk just to satisfy his own ego? You were stronger than the alpha, Stiles. You were once stronger than him and you can be stronger once again. All you have to do is answer me. Let me in, Stiles…"So I will ask once more,"

"Everyone has it, but no one can lose it. WHAT IS IT?!" The voice screams in his ear, jolting him into attention. He freezes and no matter how much his thoughts curiously wander to his words and wishes to answer the riddle. he holds (or restraints) himself back by clamping down his lips and biting them to point of bleeding.However, the scream came involuntarily from his lips.

"A SHADOW!"

The laughter entered his ears, " Wrong answer... The right answer is... DEATH!" The voice hisses harshly, before revealing its full form, Stiles himself !

Stiles awakens, tears streaming down his face and his heart pounding a hymn of death, it was jumping out of his chest. Pus.h.i.+ng himself against the bed into a Fowler's position against the headboard of his bed, he wipes the warm tears from the corner of his eyes.

Taking a deep breath, he exhales in an attempt to collect himself. His hyperventilating episode eventually subsides as he a.s.sured himself over and over again.

"It's over, Stiles... It's all over."

Situated in the dark, silent hours before his alarm sounded, he finds solace and peace.

Time ticks by, the sun begins to rise in the horizon and his alarm goes off. It was time for school. Bringing his hand to his head,he sighed to himself.

"Another day of pretending. Another day of pretending that I'm fine."

Heading in the direction to the bathroom, he opens his bedroom door and is faced the sliver of a man in beige-coloured sheriff's uniform,preparing breakfast in the kitchen.

Noticing Stiles' door open, the blue-eyed, middle-aged Caucasian looking man greets the other in his voice with raspand charisma , "Morning, sleepyhead. I've made eggs and toast for breakfast. I've got a case at the department to deal with, so you're going to have to eat by yourself, okay."

"Yes, dad." Stiles answers in pa.s.sing before facing the bathroom..

Pus.h.i.+ng the door open, he heads to the sink. He washes his face with a splash of cold water.

Looking into the mirror, his handsome face comes into reflection: the short-cut, dark brown hair matches the light brown tones of his eye color, while his skin contrasts with a pale sheen—not quite sickly but cold. His prominent cheekbones showcase his angular face.Unlike the previous him, the normal Stiles Stilinski.

In a world with werewolves, hunters, druids, banshee's and mythical creatures, normal wasn't necessarily a word coming out of your lips. His no longer pencil-thin physique he carried earlier turned to that of a toned one, mimicking that of a swimmers body; his muscles were lean and weren't show-stopping but well defined, broad shoulders and a narrow waist. His body was becoming close to perfect.

'Perks of being possessed' he called it. It was as if his body had undergone a second p.u.b.erty.

There is, however, one flaw to his appearance—the dark circles that just wouldn't go away. It was the evidence of his inner strife; of the pain he had caused his friends and everyone around him.

He considered ending it all, several times. But he couldn't, no matter how hard his attempts were. Was he a coward or was he brave? He didn't know. But he had to continue living if he couldn't die.

Dragging himself to finish the usual morning routine, he leaves from the front door and makes sure to keep it securely locked.. After making sure that he had locked the door with a turn of the handle, he opens his jeep and heads to Beacon Hills Animal Clinic where Scott and Lydia are waiting.

Before entering the building, he practices with a slight smiling face in front of the front mirror of his jeep and lets out a weary sigh, 'Okay. That should be good enough'

Scott, his best friend with a slightly shorter stature, but well defined and bigger muscles than him stands to the left, while the raven-haired beauty, Lydia Martin is conversing with Dr. Deaton, the dark-skinned veterinarian and infamous druid.

"Hey, Stiles." Scott greets enthusiastically, "You look terrible."

Stiles smiles, hoping it would be as sincere as possible the longer he pretended, "Yeah, I made the mistake of reading up on Skull symbols." He points to the bullet casing in front of them.

"Oh? And what did you find, Mr. Stilinski?" questioned Mr. Deaton.

'I guess it's your turn.' Stiles resiles himself

'Oh stiles, oh stiles, oh stiles. You woke me up for this?' The voice only he can hear questioned himself.

'As a show of good faith. Answer, or our deal is off.'

'Patience, my dear one. Patience.'

"A skull. A werewolf. A mark belonging to hunters. Hunters of Mexico. Celebrating the Day of the Dead. The Calaveras." Stiles answers to the group.

"And what of... Derek?" Scott asks in turn.

"He's alive, but does he wish for death? The cold ruthlessness is tempered by the Code of the Hunter. Without cause, he will not be killed but pain is always present." Stiles puts on an expression of a delightful smile as if he has tasted the sweetest of fruit.

'Okay! That's enough!'

Stiles snaps back in control of his body, "Phew."

"Dude, you back?" Scott asks in concern.

"Yeah," he blinks and asks them "'Nogi' creep you guys out again?"

"Always does, but at least he gave us some useful information this time." Scott replies.

Deaton, however warns, "Never trust the Nogitsune,Scott. They are tricksters. That being said, Stiles or Void was right, this bullet is marked by the Calavera family." He says inspecting the casing in the petri dish infront of him

That's right. The nogitsune that caused all the hurt has not been defeated. It's still alive. Inside of him.

No, it's evolved! They said the fox and wolf can never co-exist. They said it was impossible. They tried to explain it with science. Did they forget that the supernatural doesn't owe any respect to science? The nogistune/werewolf hybrid that shouldn't be. That it's become. That his become.

'The price that needs to be paid will be collected before the new moon.' The Nogitsune tells Stiles. The price is one that Scott would never pay, but for Stiles, it was worth it. It was worth the burden he had to shoulder. He never told Scott or Lydia about what the price was, because that was a secret he didn't dare to share..