Chapter Text
Stiles was having a good day. Really. The sun was shining, he’d gotten out of his last class early, Scott had called to remind him it was taco night, and the subway station was basically empty. Stiles sighed, leaning back on the bench as he waited for his train, music blaring happily through his headphones, and decided to ignore the pull he felt on his mind asking him to look, to see. He got feelings like this all the time, especially in the tunnels under Manhattan. He didn’t like to think about why entities were trying to get his attention down here, but most of the time, if he ignored them long enough, they would go away on their own.
This was not that time.
Stiles’ eyes snapped wide when he heard a firm voice say, “Look,” which, that was just unfair, making him nearly jump out of his skin and see…
A doll.
A living doll standing three feet in front of him. Her eyes were an eerie bright green, almost too bright to be real, but her pupils were disproportionately dilated, making contacts an impossibility. Her skin was deathly white and though her dress was pristine, all black bows on pink fabric with a high collar and short poufy sleeves, her lips were sewn shut with a thick, rough chord. One thing was for sure, he’d never seen a spirit look like that. He blinked at her, taking her in then checked his surroundings before speaking, “Hello.”
The girl’s eyes seemed to focus on him, but she never actually moved.
“I’m Stiles,” he said, taking out his headphones and rolling them into his pocket, “What’s your name?”
Molly, she told him.
“It’s nice to meet you, Molly,” Stiles smiled encouragingly, “Do you know where you are right now?”
She was silent, unmoving. It was starting to make Stiles uncomfortable. She seemed to shift, her energy felt off somehow. Then like the snap of a rubber band, she crumpled to the floor as if every joint in her body popped out at once. Without thinking, Stiles jumped to his feet to help her, but she was gone and his spastic leap had others around him glancing over. He blinked, shaking his head as his train pulled up and, not for the first time, wondered why he’d moved to New York City.