Stiles Pov:Past:
"Stiles get in the car." My dad says with irritation. "And do you have to bring your lacrosse stick?"
"Yes! And I'll only get in if I can drive." I protest. I watch my dad rub his face with his hands. It's easy to tell that he is exhausted. "Fine." Wow he most be really tired. I jump in the car and wait for Pops to get in.
I drive for two hours straight before pulling into the gas station. I turn and look at my dad sleeping. Being the loud person I am I ask him a question.
"Dad why are we doing this if your so tired?" I ask looking over at him. He has his head against the window with his eyes closed. "Because your grandmother wants to see you. And we need to talk about somethings." He opens his eyes and tilts his head my direction. I tap my fingers against that the stirring wheel anxiously. It's been five years and I still haven't told him.
Even me being posed, the zombies that killed five people, the big ass dragon that burnt down half the woods, the three witches that made me go crazy for a week, and meany more, and still hasn't figured out about the supernatural; and I plan on keeping it that way.
I jump out of the car to pump the gas.
Placing the hose back, I turn to see my dad still sleeping. I huff and walk into the gas station. It takes me minutes to find what I need. Two packets of cherry twizzlers, Coke, and a bag of Chex mix. The door rings when someone walks in. I turn to find my dad heading to the restroom. Paying I head out of the smelly gas station and to the car.
Popping open the can of Coke taking a sip. I open up the twizzlers and eat one, as pull out my phone. I type in the emergency phone number then delete it. I do this three times before releasing I have a gut feeling something wrong is going to happen. It like a sudden chill down my spin, when I know my mind is telling me something. Like my figures know to type the number when this chill always comes.
I'm the one who had the idea of the emergency phone. Everyone would take turns caring it around. Each person would have a week before passing it to the next. The phone was always to be on hand, and everyone was supposed to have the number memorized.
I jump out of my set when I hear a knock on the window. "Stiles move over." My dad says, opening the door. I just stair at him with wide eyes, before nodding and moving to shoot gun set.
"Who where you calling?" He say as he gets in and takes the keys from me. I watch him open the bag of Chex Mix before I answer. "No one." I say as I put my phone in my pocket. He starts the engine with no response. I turn around in my set to make sure my bag is in reaching distance. I have my lacrosse stick strapped to it, easing my worries if I have to grab it quickly. I strip of my red lacrosse jacket, and is it as a pillow. "SHIT!!" I scream sitting up fast. Making my dad flinch and glares. "What?" He say.
"I forgot my pillow!!" I look at him with wide eyes. "I'm not going to sleep at all the next three days." My father just rubs his hand over his face and gives me a "really are you serious look." I just huff and lean back against the set, resting my head on my jacket against the window.
Not really try to fall asleep, until I feel my eyes become heavy.
Fours hours later. Waking up of and on to take sips of my Coke or to eat a twizzler. But it wasn't very nice to be woken up to the sound of rubber screeching against pavement, sound of crushing metal, and the feeling of your set belt snapping against your chest when thrown forward. I touch my figures to my head until I feel like the dizziness has subsided.
"D-Dad?" I choke out finally opening my eyes. I look around only to find my dad unconscious with his head against the stirring wheel. "Shi-" without think I unblock my set belt and grab my bag from behind and slide it around my back. I jump out read to run around to the other side, but scene before my makes me stop. Eight cars are crashed together against an over turned bus, mine into a flipped car at the pack. People are climbing out if the bus windows, and their cars. Screaming is heard and the smell of burn rubber and metal walfts into my noise.
I run around the side of car and yank the door open. I feel on his neck for a pulse. Finding his pulse is strong then I thought it would be. Pulling him out I lay him flat on his back. "Dad wake up, wake up." I slap his cheeks gentle. "Dad!! Wake up!" One more slap my dads eyes open with a gasp.
"Stiles?"
"Yeah I'm here, can you get up? We need to move?" I look up from my dad and look at multiple cars on fire. "Yeah." He grunts as he gets up.
I pull him to his feet. I run to the back of my jeep and open the door to the trunk. Grabbing the two cases I clip them together. Making it easier to carry. Worried about my jeep catching fire I'm about to pull the cases out when I'm thrown back words.
I become dizzy when my head hits the concert. I'm yanked to my feet by strong arms. I'm pushed forward. I stumble almost falling when I catch my self on a car. I look back to she men in black pinning my dad to the ground. Freaking out the only thing I find good is their not looking at the cases in my car. They are literally worth thousands.
I feel strong arms in my again, pushing me to a van. Before I have time to react in pushed in and the doors are slammed behind me.
Once the car stopped we where dragged out of the van harshly. Placed in a big room that was made of concrete and looked old. The men in black made us watch as they dragged us one at a time in front of a camera. Each punch kindled the fire of anger inside me. Once they dragged the two little girls. That's when I lost it, after the dirt punch I ran and dove for the man j coming him to the ground. I got a good punch out before I felt my backpack being ripped from my back. Strong hands spun me around to face three very angry men.
The first one I assume is the leader and steps forward. His face has a permanent scowl. I decide to call him Shark face, because sharks always look like they're glaring.
"You should pick on someone your size." I spit at him. That comment gets me a punch to the nose. Whipping it away, I glare at him. "Now do I look like your size." Another punch to the face.
Derek Pov: past
We have footage from one of the robbers capturing the men beating the hostages.
I stand watching on the big flat screen in the pack house with my hand over my mouth. The pack is running around packing everything they need. When I roared at them to get ready, I was already almost down.
What we are shown could be graphics for some viewers.
I watch as the drag seven people across the floor and beat them till their almost unconscious. My hand shake with anger and they drag in two little girls by their hair. One man throws a punch at the oldest looking girl. Hitting her right in the nose. Then in a flash someone knocks the man to the ground and punches him across the face. The teenage boys back is to the camera. A backpack is strapped to his back. When three men grab him from behind I watch the bag be ripped from his back and thrown to a guy across the factory with pills of bags at his feet.
I feel my eyes go big when I read the name and number in the back of the red jacket
24 Stilinski
A deep growl escapes my thought as I watch Stiles yell at the man. Clearly about beating a young girl. Watching as the men's faces turn to rage, they pick Stiles up and throw him to face the camera. One takes a steps around to face Stiles. He lean into the punch that hits Stiles across the nose. Blood flows freely. Stiles glares daggers at the man as he whips blood away with the back of his hand. He gives an evil glare before he starts talking again. I can only prevoum a sarcastic comment, which leads to another punch to the face and a deep growl from my throat. I feel a hand land on my shoulder. About to rip their throat out, I spin around and stop myself; because it Lydia. "You shouldn't be watching this." she says not able to take her eyes of the big flat screen tv. I watch her eyes go big, spinning around I find Stiles fighting the men as they drag his father in.
Stiles is screaming, pure anger is easly seen from the tv. Stiles is struggling against the two men holding him. I watch the Sheriffe get punched three times in the face, before the words Stiles is spitting at him makes the man turn his head; now angry at Stiles again. Stiles is still yelling with a face full of furry as the men dragging his father away.
Stiles Pov: past, 20 minutes ago
"Stiles stop!" I hear my father scream from the group of hostages. This makes the men turn and look at him. Within a second my dad is where I was and I'm beginning dragged back.
I try to get free from the men holding me but their the size of mountains. "Now he looks almost my size." Shark face says. "You dick!" I scream. He laughs as he punches my dad in the face three times. "I swear when I get free I'm going to get a stick and rap it with barb wire, soak it in acid and shove it up your ass!" I scream at him. This makes him turn his head back to me. "Take him away." He says to the two men holding my dad. My dad is being dragged to the rest of the people already beaten. Shark face walks over to me, pinching my chin he says "Know you are going to stand here and watch me beat everyone." I growl at him before asking, "Why are you doing this."
Shark face laughs. "Because we need the police to pay as much as they can. And for them to do that we have to show them that you all can die easily."
"You son of a bitch!" I scream at him as the drag in a women. She looks about late 20's early 30's. When they hit her she doesn't make a sound , but it's easy to tell she crying by the way her shoulders shake.
"STOP! Stop! Please stop! We didn't do anything!" I scream. His only response is a laugh.