@heartsfounded gets a plotted starter
This was something different. This wasn’t something supernatural, no werewolves or kitsune or anything else that went bump in the dark. This was a darkness of the HUMAN variety and something so new to her. There, locked in that room with blood staining stone floor of the basement, she could feel them and hear them. All the voices of the DEAD that had fallen victim in that same spot. Her head pounded with so many locked within there, so many poor souls that Lydia couldn’t even keep count. It was a sickening feeling rising up into her throat but stopping just short of her lips. Maybe it was her own fear stopping the scream that could come so naturally do her or maybe the drugs in her system meant to keep her COMPLIANT considering the fight she had given just before the attacker had knocked her out.
Petite form covered in bruises and dried blood from various cuts, every inch of her body was aching with a thick chain connecting her ankle to a spot on the floor. Never again did Lydia think she’d play the damsel and especially not since leaving Beacon Hills for college. Sitting in the corner of the room curled into a ball with her hands gripping fistfuls of flaming red hair. Lydia just wanted them to STOP. All those whispers, drowning out most anything else, OVERWHELMING. Being in such a place for a banshee, it was dangerous. Lydia wasn’t even sure how long she had been down there with no sunlight or clock to tell her but it had certainly been at LEAST a few days juding from her biological clock. But even sleep didn’t come easy when it was overwhelmed with nightmares of past victims.
Voices. Voices different from the ones in her own head, cracking through that banshee wall. It was an instinct now, Lydia pushing herself further into the corner and trying to be as small as possible in case it was him coming back. Maybe there were others in his twisted little world, those that somehow ENJOYED attacking others.
