She sprinted, arms wrapped around the little girl. The child's forehead was pressed into her chest as innocent whimpers escaped her. Lydia tightened her grip on the girl as reassurance, before setting her down next to the other witnesses. The battlefield was far away now, and her heart swelled with pride at the fact that she was able to help her pack.

"Stay away," She said to the small family who witnessed the situation, "Stay safe,"

Lydia ran away again, back into the brute of the attack. She drew a knife from her belt, a friendly gift from Sheriff Stilinski after her prior trouble with the supernatural.

Scott was fighting bravely in the middle of the pack, a beacon on light as he guided them to victory.

She quickly fought off one or two rival werewolves, breathing heavily, as the other attackers scampered away. The rest of the pack stood proudly as Scott finished off the alpha.  She smiled, finally able to do something other than scream.

"Lydia, look out!" She heard Malia yell, and all heads turned to her. Lydia's eyes widened as the breath was sucked out of her, the eerie feeling of claws pricking the back of her neck making her shiver.

She was about to turn around and defend herself, but a big thud, followed by something hitting the floor came first. She whipped around to see Stiles there, bat in hand and heaving chest. He looked her up and down before sighing in content.

Lydia sheaved her knife, smiling graciously at Stiles. "You alright?" She questioned, and he nodded. Moonlight shone down on them from the full orb in the sky, illuminating his eyelashes and the hidden freckles under his eyes. She shook the thoughts away as Scott spoke.

"I've never seen that pack before, they didn't leave a mark." He sighed, walking over to where the werewolf lay crumpled at Stiles' feet. His eyes squinted at the attacker.

"Hey, isn't that-"

"The new kid in English." Lydia finished, bending down for a closer look. There was a harsh bruise blossoming on his temple, thanks to Stiles' bat.

"We should take him in for information," Kira inquired, causing a frustrated look from Scott.

"It'd be the smart choice," Lydia intervened, "We need to know why that pack was here and make sure they doesn't come back. There was a group of people who saw the unspeakable tonight, that can't happen again." She remembered the terrified look in the little girl's eyes as she shook in her arms.

"Yes but-"

"What," Liam interrupted cockily, "It's not like you haven't done it before." A laughter shook among the group, and Scott sighed, giving in to taking the werewolf with them.

Lydia smiled genuinely for a split second, until the opening in her chest swelled uncomfortably. She coughed, lungs heaving as her knees weakened and she lurched forward. She pressed a hand over her mouth, liquid splattering over her fingers. The pack loomed over her hunched body, and she heard the muffled speak of her friends.

She dropped to her knees and heaved again, something thick dribbling from her mouth to her chin. She drew her hand away, a smooth metallic substance splattered over her finger tips, the color of melted rubies. Someone crouched in front of her, grabbing her cheeks and trying to obstruct her vision from her hands.

Stiles muffled voice broke through her field of though, and though she couldn't hear the words, they sounded worried. Lydia lifted her eyes to his, breathing heavily for a couple seconds, before a flash of chopped red hair ran through the corner of her vision.

Her grandmother ducked behind a corner, and a chill went though Lydia's bones. The whole gaped again, but Lydia came to a stand, choking back the coughs. Stiles looked at her with bewilderment, but she stumbled past him, walking clumsily around the street corner in search of her loved one.

There she stood in the middle of the deserted road, clad in a bloody robe with scorch marks across her temples. Lydia gazed at the old woman's sunken eyes and worn creases. Her eyes trailed down to the crinkled lips whispering foreign tongue, same as in the dream.

"a banshee est ululate, et stilla ad velum,"

"What does that mean?" Lydia whispered to herself, eyes trailing up and down the apparition of her grandmother. The edges of her skin were tinged with white, and particles of matter floated off of the milky surface.

"porta usque ad finem," Her brow furrowed.

"The gate," A metallic taste ghosted over her lips,  "The gate, the-the veil... what does that mean?" Lydia's voice was raspy as she stumbled over the meaning of her grandmothers words.

"erit solutum et in fine exclamavit," She squeezed her fist as her grandmother's eyes began to enlighten like the moon.

"unde oportet quod mors." Lydia gripped the sides of her head as the words resonated off the surrounding buildings.

"What is death taking?" Lydia yelled, ringing her hands and trying to grip the shoulders of the spirit but they passed straight through like air. "Please, I don't understand. I DON'T UNDERSTAND!"

As she screamed, squeezing her eyes shut, a breeze shifted around her, hair splaying out in all directions. Lydia warily opened her eyes to see her grandmother gone. Footsteps echoed behind her, but she didn't turn around.

Instead, her eyes casted downward, to writing that shimmered brightly, with the appearance of the matter that was coming from her grandmother's spirit.

"He is rising."

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The tapping of his foot on the wooden floorboards in Lydia's room was just making her migraine worse. He had a hand pressed to his mouth, that look on his face when he was lost in his own thoughts. She let out a sign and placed a hand on his shoulder.

"Don't tell me you're fine." Stiles spit, making Lydia clench her jaw. His voice was gruff as sandpaper, and his hands were clenched into fists. "Because I'm not okay, at all. I just saw you hack up blood, and now you're dead grandma's leaving cryptic messages everywhere."

"Still, you don't have to-"

"I'm not leaving." He turned her her, the mattress creaking under his weight. "I can't leave. Not now. I'll sleep on the couch," Stiles stood up, about to walk out the door before she grabbed his hand, shifting between her feet.

"If you're going to be here anyway, please don't sleep on the couch." She stared at her feet as heat spread across his cheeks. As she looked up to him, and realized the proximity between them, she yanked her hand away and stepped back a few paces, laying down on the bed and snuggling beneath the covers.

"There's a blanket and mattress in the closet," She murmured, sleep overcoming her mind as she finally felt at peace.

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The Gate
[ 04 ] arising