Series Rewrite (A Teen Wolf Fanfiction)

Riddled Part 1

My ringtone for Stiles pulled me from sleep. This was weird for two reasons. One, I was in Stiles' bed, and two, it was just me in Stiles' bed. How was I not hearing him get up in the night? I always used to before, even if it was just him getting up to get some water. I couldn't hear any other heartbeat in the house since Sheriff was at the station. So where was Stiles? I picked up my phone, sitting up in bed. I didn't pay any mind to the fact that I bumped into a few yarn strings, although I should've because it definitely didn't belong there.

"Baby? Are you okay?" I asked, listening intently for him. At first, all I could hear was this weird static. "Stiles?" He started breathing heavily like he was scared, though it was broken up by the sounds of crackles. "Stiles?! You there?"

"Y/N?" Stiles whimpered. My heart jumped into my throat at the sound. Was he crying? Where the hell was he? What was going on? My eyes darted around the room like he'd be hiding in some dark corner. Or maybe I was already looking for clues, at this point, I didn't really know.

"I'm here, baby. What's going on?"

"Y/N, I don't... I don't know where I am. I don't know how I got here," Stiles whined, his voice cracking once. "I think I was sleepwalking."

"Okay, baby. It's alright. I'll find you. Can you see anything?" I asked, already hopping up to shove myself into some pants and mindlessly dodging more strings.

"Uh, it's dark. It's hard to see. I think there's something wrong with my-." The line cut and I froze, my eyes wide as I tried to listen for anything on the line. There was nothing but silence.

"Stiles? Stiles?!" I said, just to make sure. My pants were halfway on, but I was more focused on looking at the phone. His contact picture was him kissing my cheek. His eyes were wide open, side-eying the camera, a small smile on his lips. My face was scrunched up in a blushing smile as he kissed me. The picture made tears jump to my eyes as I pressed redial.

I finally noticed the red yarn strings crossing the room. Each string started at the wall, and they all congregated to one place–a pair of scissors dug into Stiles' side of the mattress. It freaked me out how close the blades had been to my head, but what freaked me out even more was I didn't hear or feel Stiles do any of this.

"Hey," Stiles answered, now sounding totally fine, and I forgot about the strings for a second.

"Stiles!" I blurted with relief.

That is, until he continued. "This is Stiles and you missed me. Leave a message-." I growled with frustrated anger and hung up, instantly pressing redial again as I wiggled the rest of the way into my pants.

Again, I got his voicemail. I screamed quietly, throwing my phone onto the bed. I rushed to throw on Stiles' hoodie and my shoes.

I tried calling again once I was dressed, and this time he answered.

"Y/N, I don't think I can get out of here. I can't move," he said.

"That's okay. I'll find you. Please, just tell me where you are!" I tried my best to hold back the tears and remain strong for him, but I was panicking.

"I don't know." Stiles' voice shook like he was also trying not to cry. "I don't know, it's too dark. I can't see much and something is wrong with my leg. It's stuck on something. I think it's... It's bleeding."

"How bad?" He didn't answer, and I felt fear creep up my throat like vomit. "Stiles, are you there? Can you hear me?"

Finally, he answered, exhaling deeply with disgust. "There's some kind of smell down here. Something smells terrible. It's brutal. My eyes are watering."

"Okay... Stiles, I'm gunna go get your dad. Stay on the line."

"No, no, no, no, don't!"

"But-."

"Don't! Just please, don't tell him. Promise you won't. He already worries about me too much. Please, babygirl. Promise me."

"I can't, Stiles! What if I can't find you?" My free hand was buried in my hair and I was this close to yanking my hair out by the roots as I paced the room fearfully, listening to the desperation in Stiles' voice.

"No, no, no! Please!" Stiles sniffled, sobbing quietly. "Please, don't tell him. Come find me. You can do it. He doesn't have to know. Y/N, you can find me."

"I don't know if I can do this, Stiles," I admitted. It seemed like my body was on the verge of a panic attack.

Stiles sniffled again. "Oh, I gotta call you back. I have to turn the phone off."

"No! Stiles, don't turn off the ph-."

"I'm gunna call you right back."

"NO! Stiles, please!" The line was dead again and I stared at the phone in my hand, panting as the contact photo taunted me of Stiles' absence. I raced out of the house, running over to Scott's.

I didn't even knock as I unlocked the door with the key Stiles copied for me and ran over to Scott's room. I banged on the door before deciding I was just going to walk in. Scott was already halfway over when I barged in, so I grabbed him. His face was pinched with worry as he looked at me.

"It's Stiles! H-he's missing. He called me, but I can't get him to stay on the line!" I said, finally allowing myself to feel the panic that had been bubbling up inside of me in the form of tears. "Scott, get dressed. Please, we have to find him. He said he couldn't move and he's bleeding. Please, just help me find him."

"Where is he? What did he say?" Scott asked, letting me go so he could throw on a shirt.

"I don't know, I don't know," I cried, rubbing my forehead as I paced. "He said he couldn't see anything. And he isn't freaking answering." I pressed call, only to get his voicemail, then repeated the process over and over again, my coordination getting weaker the more I tried, while Scott called Isaac into the room. Isaac burst through and Scott told him to get dressed. Isaac focused in on me, sobbing and slamming my fingers into my phone so hard I thought the phone would crack.

Isaac walked over to me, placing his hands over mine to still them. I looked up at him with fat tears in my eyes and wet cheeks.

"We'll find him. Don't worry," Isaac promised. I sniffed unattractively and nodded, attempting to calm my breathing as Isaac ran back to his room to get dressed.

As we ran down the stairs, my phone rang and I answered it instantly, Scott and Isaac stopping to stare at me with expectation.

"Baby?" I asked.

"Did you tell him?" Stiles whispered, sounding like he was still scared and crying. "Did you tell my dad?"

"No, I-I got Scott and Isaac. We're coming to find you. Can you figure out where you are? Try to find something, like a landmark or something that can help us locate you." Scott and Isaac leaned in a bit to hear the conversation.

"It's a basement..." he said through more static. "I think-. I think I'm in some kind of basement."

"In a house?"

"No. It looks bigger. Like industrial. I think there's a furnace, but it's cold. It's freezing down here. I gotta-. I gotta turn the phone off. It's going to die."

"Wait, please! What else is there? What do you see?"

"The phone is going to die. I can't talk."

"No, Stiles, please don't han-."

"Please," Stiles whispered.

"Why are you whispering?" Dread filled my body as the question came out.

He let out a shaky breath and whispered even quieter. "Because I think there's someone in here with me."

He hung up and I looked up at Scott, fear and question in my eyes. Scott looked like he didn't know what to say to me, as did Isaac. Luckily, they didn't have to because Lydia texted me, telling me to get Scott and meet her at Stiles' house. Her banshee senses were tingling.