Chapter Text
Spring had come to Beacon Hills early this year, and with it came the urge to clean out the winter buildup in the Stilinski home. With his father reluctant to spend his few and far between off time on cleaning, Stiles was left to his own devices. He had whirled through the house like a tornado, leaving the clinging artificial pine scent behind him as he went.
Finally deciding to tackle the basement as well, he began sorting through old boxes. Much of it had been shoved down here after his mother's passing, and neither of the Stilinski men had been eager to sort through such painful memories. That was in the past now, leaving just a twinge of meloncholly as he sorted through some of his mother's old keepsakes.
It was only when he came across a folder that things went a bit odd, it was a simple folder, if a bit dusty. Flipping it open had revealed colorful childrens art, and if he was reading the mess correctly, it was all his. There were at least 20 of them, all themed around what looked like his old room, and a dark figure. In some it was like a shadow, peeking out from under his bed and in others it hovered over a sleeping Stiles. An intense shiver ran up his spine, and he decided cleaning the basement could wait for another day.