Teen Wolf Fic: Mother of Poisons
Title: Mother of Poisons
Author: kitmerlot1213
Rating: PG 13
Word Count: 1095
Disclaimer: This story is for fun and no profit. No harm was intended to small children or adults, real or fictional :)
Summary: Stiles is reminded of his mom's love of Polish folklore. It doesn't end well.
A/N: My contribution to the 2021 Spook Me Ficathon
The skeletal hand of the pale young woman reached towards Claudia and in an almost unconscious movement, she feebly lifted her own hand to take the offered gift, not realizing this would be the beginning of the end of her life…
For the majority of Americans, the last week of October was usually filled with last minute preparations for Halloween: making sure their costumes were just right, double checking if they had the correct ratio of bags of candy to trick or treaters, securing their lawn decorations from any hooligans on Mischief Night, etc.
But unfortunately for the Hale-McCall pack, this Halloween only brought the horrible realization that the amount of people dying from mysterious ailments around the end of October in Beacon Hills and the surrounding towns was rising at an alarming rate.
The gem stones in the necklace caught the glow of the moon as it rose in the night sky. Long, bony figures traced each stone lovingly as the gems themselves became brighter, seeming to burn with an unholy energy at her touch, as if they were alive…
Even before his mom first started showing the effects of the front0temporal dementia, Stiles had disliked hospitals.
He couldn’t shake the pervasive feeling of wrongness that seemed to envelop the building.
And then after Claudia’s death, after he had to watch his mom forget practically everything about her life and what made her the wonderful woman she was, he abhorred the hospital with his whole being.
There had been days when she’d clearly remember her husband and son and all their friends but those days became fewer and fewer as her disease progressed and Claudia Stilinski died in abject terror, convinced her child was trying to kill her.
Stiles had been alone with his mother when she breathed her last and to his everlasting sorrow, he got to witness first-hand how scared she’d been.
Melissa had tried her best to comfort the distraught child, “Stiles honey, your mom doesn’t mean it, that was her disease talking, not her,” but Stiles carried the guilt around that he’d caused his mom to suffer.
To this day, Stiles couldn’t have told you what woke him up that night, perhaps a noise, an unfamiliar sound outside of his bedroom window-, but for whatever reason, the immensely curious eight year old boy looked out to his front yard--and he saw the ghastly sight of a gaunt and cadaverous looking woman handing his mother a chain with an amulet dangling from it that sparkled in the moonlight…
When the first patients started arriving at Beacon Hills Memorial Hospital, suffering from various terminal maladies, no one questioned the weirdly ornamental necklaces they all seemed to be wearing.
Truthfully, the nurses and doctors were more intent on saving their lives then wondering what they were wearing.
Melissa McCall’s career as an emergency room nurse gave her stories upon stories of well -meaning relatives being convinced that great grandma’s cameo bracelet would ward off their niece’s cancer or how Uncle Mike’s pocket watch would clear the arterial blockage their father was suffering from.
If an old fashioned string of beads or pearls gave an ill person or their caregiver a sense of protection and security, who were they to judge?
It wasn’t until the fourth person died, clutching their allegedly protective jewelry in agony that Stiles was finally able to admit to himself two things: 1. the necklaces weren’t a form of defense but were actually part of the problem and 2. his own mother had been given one that had led to her own poor health and untimely death.
The blood dripped onto the rubies and garnets, making the dark red gems an even deeper, bloodier red…
At first glance, the necklaces various charms, pendants and baubles could look like nothing more than costume jewelry, but once the jewelry were closely examined, it became clear that there were also real gems hidden amongst the shiny fakes.
And that was when Stiles went into research mode and he discovered just how truly insidious the jewels actually were.
He muttered to himself, “Opals, tiger’s eye, moonstones, amethysts, black obsidian, and turquoise are all beautiful gem stones that have usually been associated with protection and safety, especially from curses but the stones have also been tied to dark witchcraft involving arsenic and aluminum poisoning.”
She held the pristine shawl up to the moon, as if to examine it, her translucent skin an identical match to the shade of white used for the offering. She shook her head at the mortals foolishness, as if mere trinkets could appease her desire for death…
It was his dad who finally broke the case, so to speak. “Hey kiddo, tomorrow’s Oct. 28th, remember your mom used to try and crochet some kind of appeasement gift for the festival every year?” and just like that the truth hit Stiles squarely in the face.
He looked up from the book he’d been feverishly reading, his words tumbling out before he could stop himself. “I know what’s brought all of the sickness to the town--It’s Morowa Dziewica.”
Stiles shook his head as he fearfully whispered, his eyes closed in resignation. “Oh man, this is going to end badly because I don’t have a clue on how to stop her.”
She traveled at night, the moon her only guide, the strings of black pearls, amethysts and turquoise dangling from her wrists, the colors glowing brighter and swirling together…
Thanks to his dad’s deciding to actively work at keeping his wife’s memory alive, Noah started going through all the scrapbooks from Stiles and Claudia’s summer trips to Poland which in turn helped him to recall her retelling all of the folktales she’d learned, no matter how dark.
Morowa Dziewica was Poland’s very own Plague Maiden: she’d travel through villages bringing pestilence and death and it was said that she was responsible for bringing the bubonic plague to Poland.
She was also tied to Oct. 28th’s Festival of Mokosh which was Poland’s harvest festival where the women of the villages would display their homemade goods to appease her.
But in all of the folktales that Stiles has ever heard, there was never any sort of a remedy for the Plague Maiden’s actions or a way to encourage her to leave a town. A village just had to wait for her to pass through, praying that she wouldn’t linger any longer then necessary.
The Maiden wandered through Beacon Hills, an opal and blue topaz necklace held in her hands, looking for a deserving individual…
Author: kitmerlot1213
Rating: PG 13
Word Count: 1095
Disclaimer: This story is for fun and no profit. No harm was intended to small children or adults, real or fictional :)
Summary: Stiles is reminded of his mom's love of Polish folklore. It doesn't end well.
A/N: My contribution to the 2021 Spook Me Ficathon
The skeletal hand of the pale young woman reached towards Claudia and in an almost unconscious movement, she feebly lifted her own hand to take the offered gift, not realizing this would be the beginning of the end of her life…
For the majority of Americans, the last week of October was usually filled with last minute preparations for Halloween: making sure their costumes were just right, double checking if they had the correct ratio of bags of candy to trick or treaters, securing their lawn decorations from any hooligans on Mischief Night, etc.
But unfortunately for the Hale-McCall pack, this Halloween only brought the horrible realization that the amount of people dying from mysterious ailments around the end of October in Beacon Hills and the surrounding towns was rising at an alarming rate.
The gem stones in the necklace caught the glow of the moon as it rose in the night sky. Long, bony figures traced each stone lovingly as the gems themselves became brighter, seeming to burn with an unholy energy at her touch, as if they were alive…
Even before his mom first started showing the effects of the front0temporal dementia, Stiles had disliked hospitals.
He couldn’t shake the pervasive feeling of wrongness that seemed to envelop the building.
And then after Claudia’s death, after he had to watch his mom forget practically everything about her life and what made her the wonderful woman she was, he abhorred the hospital with his whole being.
There had been days when she’d clearly remember her husband and son and all their friends but those days became fewer and fewer as her disease progressed and Claudia Stilinski died in abject terror, convinced her child was trying to kill her.
Stiles had been alone with his mother when she breathed her last and to his everlasting sorrow, he got to witness first-hand how scared she’d been.
Melissa had tried her best to comfort the distraught child, “Stiles honey, your mom doesn’t mean it, that was her disease talking, not her,” but Stiles carried the guilt around that he’d caused his mom to suffer.
To this day, Stiles couldn’t have told you what woke him up that night, perhaps a noise, an unfamiliar sound outside of his bedroom window-, but for whatever reason, the immensely curious eight year old boy looked out to his front yard--and he saw the ghastly sight of a gaunt and cadaverous looking woman handing his mother a chain with an amulet dangling from it that sparkled in the moonlight…
When the first patients started arriving at Beacon Hills Memorial Hospital, suffering from various terminal maladies, no one questioned the weirdly ornamental necklaces they all seemed to be wearing.
Truthfully, the nurses and doctors were more intent on saving their lives then wondering what they were wearing.
Melissa McCall’s career as an emergency room nurse gave her stories upon stories of well -meaning relatives being convinced that great grandma’s cameo bracelet would ward off their niece’s cancer or how Uncle Mike’s pocket watch would clear the arterial blockage their father was suffering from.
If an old fashioned string of beads or pearls gave an ill person or their caregiver a sense of protection and security, who were they to judge?
It wasn’t until the fourth person died, clutching their allegedly protective jewelry in agony that Stiles was finally able to admit to himself two things: 1. the necklaces weren’t a form of defense but were actually part of the problem and 2. his own mother had been given one that had led to her own poor health and untimely death.
The blood dripped onto the rubies and garnets, making the dark red gems an even deeper, bloodier red…
At first glance, the necklaces various charms, pendants and baubles could look like nothing more than costume jewelry, but once the jewelry were closely examined, it became clear that there were also real gems hidden amongst the shiny fakes.
And that was when Stiles went into research mode and he discovered just how truly insidious the jewels actually were.
He muttered to himself, “Opals, tiger’s eye, moonstones, amethysts, black obsidian, and turquoise are all beautiful gem stones that have usually been associated with protection and safety, especially from curses but the stones have also been tied to dark witchcraft involving arsenic and aluminum poisoning.”
She held the pristine shawl up to the moon, as if to examine it, her translucent skin an identical match to the shade of white used for the offering. She shook her head at the mortals foolishness, as if mere trinkets could appease her desire for death…
It was his dad who finally broke the case, so to speak. “Hey kiddo, tomorrow’s Oct. 28th, remember your mom used to try and crochet some kind of appeasement gift for the festival every year?” and just like that the truth hit Stiles squarely in the face.
He looked up from the book he’d been feverishly reading, his words tumbling out before he could stop himself. “I know what’s brought all of the sickness to the town--It’s Morowa Dziewica.”
Stiles shook his head as he fearfully whispered, his eyes closed in resignation. “Oh man, this is going to end badly because I don’t have a clue on how to stop her.”
She traveled at night, the moon her only guide, the strings of black pearls, amethysts and turquoise dangling from her wrists, the colors glowing brighter and swirling together…
Thanks to his dad’s deciding to actively work at keeping his wife’s memory alive, Noah started going through all the scrapbooks from Stiles and Claudia’s summer trips to Poland which in turn helped him to recall her retelling all of the folktales she’d learned, no matter how dark.
Morowa Dziewica was Poland’s very own Plague Maiden: she’d travel through villages bringing pestilence and death and it was said that she was responsible for bringing the bubonic plague to Poland.
She was also tied to Oct. 28th’s Festival of Mokosh which was Poland’s harvest festival where the women of the villages would display their homemade goods to appease her.
But in all of the folktales that Stiles has ever heard, there was never any sort of a remedy for the Plague Maiden’s actions or a way to encourage her to leave a town. A village just had to wait for her to pass through, praying that she wouldn’t linger any longer then necessary.
The Maiden wandered through Beacon Hills, an opal and blue topaz necklace held in her hands, looking for a deserving individual…