A/N: It wasn't supposed to end like this.

Trapped.

Lydia is trapped in a hallway in the basement, and it's only a matter of time before he catches her.

But he's taking his time, walking towards her leisurely while she stumbles through the hallway, using the walls as support. He's patient, like every villain that ever scared her as a child.

Every fiber of her being is screaming to get out, but she's trapped and her breaths are shuddering gasps of sharp fear in a cold, dark hallway.

"What are the voices telling you?" She hates the way his voice sounds, sharp and cold and calculating, toying with her. The real Stiles is always warm, and he says her name like it's honey. "It's louder than usual, isn't it?"

There's a slight emphasis on louder, and it makes the voices louder, too. She's used to tangled whispers, but down here they're all screams and it takes all her willpower not to clutch her ears and scream with them.

"Well, that's because a lot of bad things happened down here." He says 'bad things' like he's referring to himself, and she shudders as she stumbles.

Faster.

But she can't go faster, because the walls are the only things holding her up.

"They say that Stiles is dying." His voice cuts through her until she's trembling, and his words rise a chorus of 'no, no, no, no' in her head.

And the way he says "He is, you know" -drawn out and lilting- makes her think of cat and mouse, of villains who let you writhe before they stab you, of patient fingers tapping sword handles before they run you through.

No, no, no, no, no.

Not Stiles.

No, no, no, no, no.

"And he's not the only one who's dying," He continues, and she doesn't look back; she squeezes her eyes shut and wishes the world away.

"Lydia," He's closer now, and a lightning bolt of fear slices through her. Her name isn't honey on his tongue, it's poison. "Do you know who's next?" She shudders because his voice is right next to her ear.

"You know, don't you?" He's pulled back, and she's so relieved that she can almost forget what he's saying, forget the screams that echo his words.

She does know.

It's her.