The (Other) Nephilim

New Story Teaser

A/N: Here's that teaser for the new crossover I'm working on. I might change it up in the actual story, but hopefully you guys get the gist of it here. 

 Jonathan Sims started up the recorder with a familiar heavy click. "Remember, Stiles, Statement numbers organized by the last three digits of the year, the two digits of the month, then the two digits of the day."

"Got it," the teen answered in his American accent. To be honest, Jon wasn't sure he'd ever get quite used to hearing the dialect so casually. "Year, month, day. Check. Just curious though, don't you normally do these statements when you're alone? Or like, with the person?"

A tired sigh. "Yes, but I need you to finish filing these statements for me, and I'd rather have it done sooner than later. Plus, you still need to know how to take and record these statements. So, if you don't mind..."

"Oh, right! Sorry, you won't even know I'm here!" The teen gave Jon a thumbs up before burying his nose in the files he was practically laying in next to the wide-open cabinet.

The Archivist let out a huff before turning to the recorder and statement in front of him. "Statement of Lydia Halligan regarding her insomnia. Original statement given 8th June, 2015. Audio recording by Jonathan Sims, Head Archivist of the Magnus Institute, London.

"Statement begins.

"I don't know when I last slept. It's not that I can't remember, it's just that I can't really tell. When I manage to steal an hour or so, if that's even happened, my dreams seem so vivid and my waking so disjointed, that they blur together. Like all I have are scenes and images, devoid of context, and no true way to tell what is real and what is not...

"... There is a billboard outside my flat. It overlooks a small roundabout and used to have adverts for whatever the latest TV drama was. The metal that holds it up is old and rusted, and sometimes I think I can hear it groaning ever so quietly as I walk past. Now it has an advert for coffee. I assume that is what it's advertising. It's a woman, bright and cheerful, with a sky-blue blouse and shining white smile. She holds a cup of coffee, the steam rising and curling in front of her eyes. There is no brand name or information, just the words, 'Sleep is overrated' in a tall, thin font. I don't know how long it has been there. Her eyes seem to look in through my window...

"There is a man in my living room. He is tall, with sandy blond hair that twists into unruly curls. I must have invited him in. He sits in my armchair, drumming his fingers together. They make an odd, clacking sound when they touch. I know him, though I have no idea where we might have met. His smile is friendly but I don't like it. I apologise, tell him I've forgotten his name and he waves it away, saying that names are overrated, then asks how my day has been. I tell him I don't know which day he means, and he laughs and laughs and laughs until my nose begins to bleed. I see the blood dripping onto the patterns I have been drawing. How long have I been drawing? It isn't my pen..."

Jon is snapped out of his trance-like reading by a strangled choking noise coming from his assistant. The teen quickly turns it into a cough and spins some lie about swallowing his spit the wrong way, but Jon doesn't believe it for a second. Wearily, he turns back to the recorder.

"Statement resumes.

"The billboard is damp. A sudden rainstorm has soaked it through and the paper peels away at the corner. The sky-blue blouse is now mottled and mouldy; the smile has warped into a sneer. The coffee is still steaming, the swirls of the steam unaffected by the rain, though the brightness in her eyes has turned into a vicious glare. I can see the rust in the metal supports more clearly now, and they seem to bend ever so slightly when they groan. The text now reads: 'Sleep is for the weak'...