thenightmareofyourdrems:
˜”*°•. What did she want ? A lot. To lash out at Peter , to blame him for every ordeal . Every suffering . Every death. The Argents had died one after the other. Victoria , Allison , Chris . Just like the father that’d betrayed them all to save himself - betrayed her -, the father that’d died by her own hand . And however apathetic she might have sought to be , however emotionless , she knew that Peter could smell the distress . She knew that he was enjoying it even ; tables turned , karma making one last appearance. And yet , she ignored the thought . Ignored the overgrowing desire to claw his eyes out . Emotions outdone by facts , feelings eliminated by confusion , this one word that’d escaped the other’s lips , bringing a much needed distraction . ❝ Wait, what do you mean a message ? ❞ Beacon Hills had always been a wild place - hunters fighting monsters but other hunters too. No doubt her brother had made his own enemies - and yet , however possible it might’ve been , Peter overdramatising it, making the description as torturous as possible, she had a feeling he was not lying . Still , question remained ; if this’d been some kind of message, it’d been left by someone . It’d been directed to someone , too .
A very visible annoyance had painted her face upon the sound of his next words . ❝ Yeah , must be quite an honor . ❞ But he was not wrong , was he ? Peter finding her brother’s dead body, being the first to tell her about it … it was not even ironic . Just some horrible joke . And she hated it . Hated how she depended on him. How Peter Hale was her only source of information - and the person that could just choose the narrative and rejoice in the reactions . ❝ How did you even find him ? Were you just casually walking around ? ❞
The workings of the mind.. of the heart. When provided with the sight of a dead and rotting Chris Argent, the first imagine which snapped into mind like a cold wind shooting through bones was the memory of the hunter’s spitfire when they had crossed paths. The energy and disgust within the human had become more prominent when all that was left was buzzing flies and milky eyes, drooping, already having lost a great deal of moisture. The second imagine, and one that dominated all others, was Kate Argent’s face.
He had imagined her the moment he tore her throat apart and imaged the reaction breaking across her face when the news came to light. Nothing was as satisfying as the imagination.. except Kate’s death. All the things the woman felt, Peter wanted to see them transpire, yet he settled for sniffing her emotions. Had she been human, the reward would have been much sweeter. The scent of her, however was tainted with what she had become. The Argents were falling one by one, and it was about time.. Karma and all of that. It should have been me — an ominous bell chimed in his head; a ghost of his consciousness.
❝ He wasn’t in my loft if that’s what you’re thinking. ❞ Peter began with tone casual and collected as though he was recalling a time he went out to get breakfast. He inhaled loudly and tilted his head to the side.
❝ I’ve since left that place with plans on leaving Beacon Hills for good. I was going through some old hunting grounds.. you know, nostalgia and all that. I smelled it; the human blood, the lingering essence of pain, and gunpowder. There was a trail of blood, too, and one created purposefully, either using a cloth or a paintbrush. He was only half a kilometer away from a warehouse my family formerly used. They burned him. Bled him. Left him there for someone like a little present. ❞ Peter weighed his words, then continued a breath later.
❝ A present to me? No. It’s just some sadistic display meant to get attention and evoke shock factor. ❞ Peter cared not for her suffering. If anything and as evident by his story telling, he wanted her to SUFFER. But.. it was off. Again, it should have been him. He always imagined something long and gratifying, and seeing the conclusion made Chris appear so small and weak.
❝ ..I didn’t leave him up there. I took him down if you.. want to see him. Whoever did this could be banking on the notion of you and I visiting the body together however. ❞
