InsaneJournal

Teen Wolf: Allison Argent Narrative
Who: Allison Argent
Where: Her storage unit then the woods.
When: Timeline fuzzy - just assume this happens often enough in the middle of the night
What: Hauntings and hiking and reading? Not necessarily in that order. And also deer death.



Allison was reading up on anything she could find about ghosts and hauntings, and sleep walking, nothing was going well. WebMD told her to get a hospital immediately (of course it did), google had been grossly unhelpful, and now she was in the storage cage reading multiple tomes and trying to cross reference as best she could with what she was finding. This would have been easier with her dad there. Or Lydia. But her dad was nowhere to be found and she was afraid to be alone with Lydia considering how many times Allison wound up with a weapon in her hand in the middle of the night. Made even more dangerous by the fact that she couldn't get her hands and eyes to cooperate when she was awake, let alone any skill that would be lost from being asleep half the time. Her hands shook and shook as she knocked arrow after arrow in the woods earlier that day - it had been horrible.

She'd cried in frustration, and she'd hated that even more. She had taken to drinking massive amounts of coffee - so far she had been awake for about 36 hours and she knew that sooner or later she would have to crash. But she preferred later. Now was definitely not a good time. She heard a noise behind her, and the bright overhead flood lighting flickered. It had sounded like someone had entered the storage unit. She didn't hear any footsteps, but there had been the definite sound of the main door opening and closing gently. "Hello?" she called out. She was still in the safety of the cage for the time being - but as she thought it over, if something had come for her the last thing she wanted was to be served up trapped in her own cage.

She waited for a moment, listening for any other sounds, and had almost talked herself into thinking she hadn't heard anything at all when the lights flickered above and she heard the sound of something brushing past the cage - or rather she felt the slight breeze and the presence of someone else. In the movies this was the part where someone always said "come on guys this isn't funny." But Allison had no one to say that to - no one would be doing that to her, they had enough horror in their real lives. Their pranks usually involved less fear and more laughter.

She picked up the handheld crossbow pistol that she had been cleaning earlier and a few arrows. She ignored her shaking hands for the time being and took some deep breaths as her hands shook while she put one of the small arrows in place and kept the rest to the side. She slowly, and quietly, opened the door to the cage and looked around. There were rows and stacks in the storage unit, but she wasn't in the dark so her field of vision was pretty good. Her hand shook at her side, and she put the arrows into the front pocket of the flannel shirt she had on (her dad's), and set about exploring. "You may as well just come out now. I'm not afraid of you." And she almost believed it.

The flickering of the lights above her became more and more insistent like a rapidly changing television station or a JJ Abrams movie. She walked over to the light switch and tried to switch it off and back on - nothing happened. At least until she had it back in the on position, and the entire room went dark. Shit. Shit. Shit. She had a flashlight on her (of course she did) and she held it in front of her, using her right hand for leverage as she walked through the unit. Her hands were shaking and she realized she couldn't hold that stance right then. So the crossbow went to her side and the flashlight moved up. Much better. No aiming weapons just yet. She didn't see anything, so she made her way back to the door. She would just get out of there for now until she could call Scott for some backup.

She opened the door and stepped through it, she turned her back on the hallway to lock it and when she turned back around her Aunt Kate's face was directly in front of her, and Allison screamed. And ran. The hard cement floor of the basement as she ran to the service elevator, she turned around and Kate was gone - but Allison just kept running the crunching of the leaves under her feet was rhythmic - wait. Leaves.

She stopped and looked around. She was in the woods. She was running through the woods and it was the middle of the night, the crossbow was still gripped tightly in her shaking hand, and her heart was leaping into her chest. She knew these woods, and they were never ending every time she tried to run. Turning right was turning left, at first she was the Nemeton, then the Hale House. She ducked into the Hale House for a moment, but Kate was there. Tormenting her, telling her all about how she'd burned the place to the ground. Talking down to Allison about Scott, about the "new code" about everything she'd died for.

Before she knew it she was bringing the Crossbow up, and pointing it at her aunt. "You're not here."

"Are you sure about that, niece?" And then Kate was standing in front of her, boring her nails firmly and painfully into Allison's arm a look of malice on her face, contorting features that Allison had once adored.

Allison pushed her off, and shot the crossbow, missing entirely while Kate laughed and mocked her. So Allison did the only thing she ever could when this happened. She ran. She left the house and she shot arrow after arrow behind her. The mocking sing song tone of Kate's voice echoed through her ears, and seemed almost ethereal the way it bounced off of the trees. Kate was everywhere then, once again, around every corner and behind every tree. Allison screamed until she was horse. She threw the crossbow pistol as a last resort once she was out of arrows. She had nowhere to go. Everywhere was circles. It was a full moon, the middle of the night, and Allison was running around the woods being chased by a ghost. She was terrified. She couldn't recall ever having been so scared. The next time she saw Kate's face, her throat was ripped out - the way it had been when it had happened. She bled and laughed and mocked and Allison just ran. Finally she fell, a stupid move, she tripped on a stick and landed with a thud on the ground. Kate stood over her, pointing her own weapons at her and Allison shut her eyes tightly. She heard the *ping* of the bow releasing and only then did she wake up.

She was still in the storage unit, still in the cage, lights weren't flickering, and she had her head on a pile of old books that smelled well worn. Her heart was about to beat out of her chest - she was afraid to walk home so she decided she wouldn't. There was a cot in the unit, and she'd take advantage of that for the night. Not ideal, but it was something and she wouldn't have to go home. She noticed the arrows that had been fired - small ones in the wall with no rhyme or reasons. From the crossbow pistol that had been lying right next to her. She stood there, shaking, her arms around herself and tried to get it together. She tried to keep it together more than anything. That was step one. Getting it together. She felt the tears on her face, and she allowed that moment. That moment of relief that she only hurt a wall, that moment of fear that this kept happening. She breathed and cried, and hugged her arms tightly around herself. She wanted to call Scott, and Lydia, Stiles - hell even Jackson. But she didn't. She would talk to them tomorrow, she didn't want to put them in any danger.