She stared blankly at the white sterile walls in front of her, waiting for the trio to walk into the animal clinic where they had hidden her.

"Hello, Scott, Alison, Stiles," she smirked. Her three friends entered the room slowly, weary of their friend shackled to the chair.

"This is all your fault-" Scott began, a look of utter betrayal on his tanned face.

"No, no, no," she laughed maniacally, pushing her matted blonde hair from her face. "Everyone had been worried about Scott- about Alison- even Stiles - but did anyone ever to think of me? Scott, this is all your fault. You made me like this."

The girl leaned forward in my chair, letting the handcuffs scrap loudly against the table. She smirked as Scott winced, how Alison paled, and how Stiles just stood there, expressionless.

"No, nobody thought to check if little Dasha was alright."

Dasha sighed, "in the end, that was your mistake. Because now,

Beacon Hills will become a living hell."