February 6th, 2016


[info]naturalemissary
[info]motelca

[info]naturalemissary
[info]motelca

Elevator Spam for Lydia


[info]naturalemissary
[info]motelca
[By now, Stiles has explored every inch of the motel that he has access to -- multiple times. He hasn't spent a lot of time sleeping, and the fatigue from it makes him miss his Adderall. It's something he hasn't taken in almost a year and a half. In addition to keeping himself busy trying to figure out a way out of this place, the last two nights have been filled with knocking sounds, strange odors, and at a little after 4 this morning, the lights had flickered on and off in his room for about twenty minutes.

Fucking poltergeists. Little pains in his ass. Or his head, as the case may be.

His gun is tucked into his pants like it usually is when he's up and around and not in his room, and today his intent is to end the nefarious little spirit causing problems around the motel. He hops on the elevator on the seventh floor because he's not in the mood to take the stairs right now, and it descends to level four, where it pauses and he moves aside to let the next person on, too. He just isn't anticipating Lydia being the one stepping onto the elevator when the doors open.

And when he sees the dazed, distant look on her face, he pauses because he realizes what's going on. She's in a fugue-like state.]


Lydia?