Just a short story I might expand on in the future. Shout out if ya like it.
Third Person
Stiles slammed the door to his biology classroom shut, leaning his shoulder against it to hold it closed as the vines of the Nemeton pushed on the other side as he grunted. The door finally clicked shut and the noise and force behind the door ceased.

He sighed in relief as he turned and leant his back on the door. He shouted in fright and tried to back away, the door stopping him.

Before him stood a figure of burning fire and black stone. It was feminine and had huge wings that resembled those of a bat, only each wing was as big as the creature itself. Eyes of pitch black stared back at him as his heart thundered and sweat dripped down his back, fear an icy hand squeezing his heart.

"Hello. I'm supposed to be haunting your dreams but it seems something already is." The creature gestured to the door Stiles leant on just as something thumped agaisnt it.

"I've only got six months left and I'm really done with all this Demon crap so wanna talk instead?" The voice was female and sweet despite the horrifying appearance and Stiles was confused and afraid, trapped between two Nightmares.

The creature held out its hand, great, long, black claws protruded from her fingers as she gave what was supposed to be a kind smile but really was more frightening.

"Oh, sorry. Would it scare you less if I took a more familiar appearance?" The creature waned and black smoke rolled down its body, head to toe, it's form changing. When the smoke reached her feet, Lydia Martin stood before a cringing Stiles Stilinski.

"I don't know if that's worse." He said as he jumped as the Nemeton crashed its vines agaisnt the door again, the wood creaking under its force.

"Really? You seem to like her a lot, I thought it would please you." Lydia replied as she titled her head, just like Lydia did when she was confused. Stiles shuddered. These Nightmares just kept getting worse and worse. Another bang and a crack sounded as the wood beside Stiles' head splintered and he cowered as a thick vine smashed through.

Lydia's cool hand gripped Stiles wrist and pulled him forward and suddenly it was quiet and bright.

Stiles looked around in confusion at the beautiful garden he now stood in. The sun was shining, dancing behind thin wispy clouds ever so often. Birds sung in trees not to far away and the air smelt sweet.

His heart finally getting a moment to slow as he caught his breath, Stiles looked to the figure sitting on a stone bench a meter or so ahead of him.

He cautiously and with great confusion, moved to sit beside the brunette woman. He looked her over as she stared, with a soft smile at a fountain in front of them, the water splashing in a relaxing manner, gold fish glinting in the sun as they skitted threw the water.

The brunette was no older than him her hair long and wavy, a white ribbon holding it away from her face. She had baby blue eyes and a dust of freckle across her cheeks, with rosy, plump lips. She was dressed in a white dress with frills, white stockings and white slippers, it was all very old fashioned.

"Who are you now?" Stiles asked softly as his heart finally calmed fully. The beautiful woman turned to face him and gave a smile that made his heart pick up again.

"Just me. This is what I looked like before I sold my soul." She said as she glanced down at her hands, picking at the frills on her dress with fondness.

"Where are we? Who are you?" He asked as he looked back up at the beautiful garden. As he peaked over the hedges oppisite them, he could see a large, white roof, a Mannor laying beyond the garden.

"My name is Agnes Bower and this is one of my memories. Your mind seemed a little," She searched for a word as she waved a hand around. Stiles raised a brow.

"Horrifying." He suggested and Agnes nodded with a brief chuckle.

"How are we here? I don't understand." He pressed still very confused about this whole ordeal, it was shaping up to be a restless night.

"You know the phrase, Sold my soul to the devil?" Agnes asked as she crossed her ankles and leaned her palms on the cool stone, resting back to turn her face to the warm sun. Stiles nodded.

"Well, I literally sold my soul to the devil, and now I'm a Demon." She sat back up and stared at the flowing fountain as she clenched her hands together her shoulders tensing.

"400 years ago, when I was seventeen just like you I made a deal with the devil to bring the man I loved back from the dead, in return I agreed to surve as a Demon for 400 years." She started as Stiles' brows furrowed and he paid all his attention to her words.

"I was young and stupid, and I fell in love with a man named William Collins," As she spoke the world around then waned and rippled and Stiles looked around in shock and confusion as he listened to her.

"He was well off and recieved permission from my father to ask for my hand on my eighteenth birthday. I couldn't wait to be married to him. One night we snuck out to the garden," As Agnes painted the picture night fell around them and they were suddenly sitting in a different part of the garden, much further from the house, a Well appearing before them as two figures shadowed into view. It was Agnes and the man William.

"The Well had long since dried up and only remained as decoration, but wasn't sound." The couples laughter rang through the cool night air as the exchanged sweet kisses and soft smiles. Stiles watched on entranced yet feeling out of place and intrusive on such a tender moment.

William leant against the side of the Well and as Agnes leaned in to kiss him again the wall gave way and Agnes screamed as she dropped to her knees, nearly following William as he tumbled backwards and down into the dark Well. A resounding crack silenced his cries as Agnes screamed and feld towards the house crying for help.

"I couldn't sleep, I wouldn't eat. I couldn't stop replaying the moment in my mind, over and over again." As she spoke the world rippled again and they were inside the house now, in a bedroom where Agnes sat wrapped in a shall, sitting in a chair by the window. As Stiles slowly stood and walked to look out the window, he saw what the memory of Agnes stared at. The broken Well, cordoned off by thick rope and tall wooden pegs, was in clear view from her bedroom window. He swallowed thickly and his heart clenched in pity.

"Mother used to tell us to make wishes on penny's and toss them into the Well." The world changed again and they were back in front of the Well, the ropes around it, the night more crisp and cold than the first.

"I had been saving a gold coin, and one night I came back to the Well." Agnes' memory of herself appeared at the edge of the hedges as she quickly and quietly ducked under the rope and on barefeet, paced to the edge of the Well.

"I wished more than anything in the world for William to come back. I was willing to give up anything, do, anything to get him back." Anges' form knelt by the broken section of the Well. She brought the coin to her lips and then let it drop into the empty Well. She sat there for a few moments with her hands clasped and her eyes closed as she mumbled prays under her breath.

A deep coldness washed over Stiles and the hairs on the back of his neck raised as his stomach turned and his body screamed at him to run, to hide, that death was coming.

A black that seemed to swallow all, seeped up the Well walls and warped the air as it rose up above Agnes. She raised her head, tear tracks visible as a shadowy form appeared even darker than black in the center of the abyss.

Agnes' lips moved and the shadows did too, but Stiles heard nothing. As quick as a blink, then darkness was gone as was the feeling in his body to flee.

Fire sprung up Agnes' body and consumed her as heat caused Stiles to cover his face and fall back onto the stone bench beside the present Agnes. When the flames cleared the Demonic beast that had greated him in the halls of his dream hovered above the scorched grass it huge ebony wings beating slowly as it lowered its self to the ground on bare, stone feet, viens filled with lava running in the cracks of it skin.

There was a cough and the creature stepped back from the Well as a hand appeared at the rim, then a second. Covered in dirt, but other wise fine, William crested the Well and climbed out onto the grass, coughing like he hadn't been dead for months, but had just slipped in the dirt and torn his loafers.

William raised his head and his eyes widened in pure terror at the sight of the Demon before him. Agnes crouched at his level, her huge wings splaying out of the grass with a hiss as she smiled softly at him and offered him a hand of long claws.

William screamed in horror before he scrambled to his feet and fled through the garden faster than Stiles had ever seen a man run. In a rush of dark shadows, a hand gripped the Deomns ankle and it shouted in Agnes' voice as it fell and was dragged down the Well screaming.

"I traded my soul, 400 years of unquestionably servitude to the Devil himself for Williams life, and he couldn't stand the sight of me, never returning to our estate." The world wavered and rippled and they were back in the spring sun before the fountain. Stiles let out a breath he hadn't realised when he'd started holding.

"I'm so sorry." He said as he turned to face the really Agnes. She blinked rapidly, coming out of her memories, quite literally, and smiled sadly at him.

"I've only got six months left and then I've served my time. I'm free." She said softly as she glanced back at the garden, standing to stretch.

"Until then you can find refuge in my mind during your dreams, just don't go entering my room, it's full of all my memories and for your sake, you don't want to know what I've been doing the last 400 years." Agnes joked as she turned to face Stiles as he stood.

"You should try the tea in the Parlour though. It's lovely."

Stiles gasped as he jolted upright in his bed. He was covered in a cold sweat but his heart was calm. He rubbed his palms against his eyes to push the sleep away. Since the whole dying in the place of their parents thing, that was the best night's sleep he'd had, and he had met a Demon.

At least he felt well rested.