Jacskon Whittemore: Homicidal Lizard (squamate) wrote in halloweening, @ 2013-10-09 19:30:00 |
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Something weird had been happening to Jackson Whittemore. Weirder even than showing up in this stupid town with everyone he knew claiming he was meant to be in London, not Beacon Hills. There was the bite mark, the lake, the uncontrollable nose bleeds, the (what he hoped were) hallucinations, the blood on his hands, McCall and Stilinski’s accusations and inability to leave him alone despite the restraining order. Something wasn’t right and while he had at first assumed this to be a good thing; he was something special, something even better than McCall and his werewolf crew, all signs were beginning to point to this being way more than he’d bargained for. With all of this going on, Jackson was hardly surprised to hear a strange noise outside of his door. Considering he was staying in an asylum of all places (a big step down from his room at home), weird noises were to be expected. If only the crazy housemates could limit their noise levels at night time, some people needed their beauty sleep. He tried to ignore it, hoping the person (ghost? werewolf? vampire? demigod? Who knew anymore) would pass his room and leave him in peace but the dragging sound continued. “Shut UP,” he growled at the door but the sound was persistent. Letting out an annoyed sigh, Jackson dragged himself out of bed, throwing his door open, ready to give it to whoever was keeping him awake with a sound even more annoying than McCall’s voice, but he was greeted with nothing but an empty hall and silence. The door was slammed shut and Jackson headed back towards his bed when it started again. This time he opened the door more slowly, determined to catch the jackass keeping him awake in the act, but still there was nothing there. The door clicked closed, the noise started up again, the door opened slightly, the noise stopped. Over and over he tried to catch the perpetrator, yelling obscenities at the empty hall, before finally giving up and slamming the door so hard he was sure his room shuddered. The noise continued. Jackson returned to his bed, covering his ears with a pillow that didn’t quite manage to block out the noise. “I am going to kill you.” |