*Stiles view*
The alphas kidnapped me and brought me to a random warehouse. It wasn't too bad actually, there was some rust here and there, but it was fully equipped with weapons of all kind. It seemed to be their hideout after being defeated by our pack. I was tied down to a metal table, with a rag shoved inside my mouth. I succumbed to the fear, so I didn't struggle, as there was no point.
I've already been kidnapped once. It took forever before they found me the first time, i'm not getting my hopes up like last time.
I trail my eyes all around the room, noticing that the alphas are watching me. I can hear them just fine, but I don't react the same anymore.
"Should we kill him? No, he's too valuable for what we want from Scott. Is he a werewolf? Definitely."
I froze.
They said that I was human again.
I tried to sit up because my ADD was kicking in and making staying still hell for me, but I just made an "oof" sound and fell back. All the alphas turned in sync and stared at me, I stared back.
"I'm not a werewolf," I grit out.
I look around, no sharp object or any objects I could reach to prove my point. I did the first thing I could think of to prove my point and jerked as hard as I could to the left. I clenched my eyes and let out a throaty groan. A terrible pain and snap come from my right, I snapped my wrist. I sat there and focused on mentally blocking the pain out. I was good at it now, so within seconds, I felt nothing and stared dully at the pack.
Deucalion's smirk drops as he sees I don't heal. "We can smell the werewolf stench on you, not any of your packs scent. It's- unfamiliar..."
I would usually roll my eyes, but that Stiles is gone.
I just state numbly, "I was a werewolf, but they killed him."
They looked at each other confused, one of the twins speaks up. "They killed your wolf? Who is they?"
I sighed and laid back, closing my eyes emotionlessly. I hear a growl, and then I was flung from the table. Multiple bones in both my arms seemed to bend against their willy from the resistance of my arms being tied down. I let out a blood curdling scream, and hit the ground with an ugly thud. My eyes flew open and I watched as Ethan followed me from the table, only needing one kick to break some ribs. Tears streamed down my face, I couldn't breathe. I struggled to keep my eyes open as the alpha pack surrounded me. Deucalion's eyes glowed a barbaric red and he bared his fangs at me.
I knew what he was implying by the way he was showing off his deadly canines, he was going to bite me. Sitting there in defeat, waiting for a piercing pain somewhere in my body.
None came, the only sound I heard was the sound of wind, as the alpha pack ran away. I didn't open my eyes to check, I laid there until the sun went down.
I screamed as I woke up in my father's house. I was in bed, sweat and tears coating my body. Looking around, I notice a red string tied around my wrist. The string was leading out my bedroom door. I silently stood up from my bed and tip toed to follow the string. I walk out into the hallway and was immediately enveloped in webs, I thrash around, and fall. I fall and fall until I hit my head on the kitchen. I look around confused
"Did I just fall through the floor?"
I look around and try to force myself up, but the string tightens on my wrist and I begging to get dragged through the house. I was taken outside my house and to the woods, where the string ended at a tree. No particular tree, just a regular bruce tree in the middle of the woods. I twist the string from my wrist to let it fall to the ground. I am bloodied, all down my right and front side, I am covered with cuts. I wipe my hands on the side of my shorts. As I'm doing this, I hear a growl. Looking up slowly, I see Scott, eyes glowing a blood red alpha color.
He is glaring at me with hatred, "It's your fault, you are the reason Allison is dead."
I backed up, my back running into the tree with the string. It was my fault, I knew this already, Scott didn't have to remind me.
"I know Scott, I know."
I was dragged again, into the loft where Derek was sitting, casually reading a magazine.
"You know Stiles, I was doing just fine. I had finally gotten over the fire, the fire that killed my family," Derek eyed me as he enunciated cruelly.
I gulped, I could feel the anger radiating off of him.
He continued, "Then Lydia brought Peter back, and he went to you. Got all of his information, all his leverage."
Derek stopped and slammed his fists on the table. "Just because you are stupid and defenseless." Derek slammed me into the wall, "I suggest you leave this pack alone, and don't ever try to bother us again, or Scott will be the least of your worries."
A tear snaked its way down my cheek. I tried to get rid of it, but Derek pushed me harder into the wall. "You can't even handle a threat, how have you survived the dangers we've faced?"
I closed my eyes, it's a dream Stiles. The image in front of me, Derek with his icy blue eyes and anger rippled. I was thrown into the past, facing my mom. She was pointing at me, screaming that I was trying to kill her. That I was a monster, to get away from her, yelling for my father to get me away from her. I tried to walk towards her, to tell her I wouldn't hurt her and that I loved her. My father held me back and called for someone to help. I screamed and bawled, trying to get past my dad to get to my mom.
Nurses burst through the door, grabbing her and sticking her with a needle. She passed out in their arms, and they carried her inside. Little Stiles screamed for his mom, just for a second of recognition of the woman he used to know.
Then I woke up.
I was still in the warehouse.
Why am I not surprised I haven't been found yet.
I try to get up, struggling, but still managing to make it. I groan and lean heavily on the side of the metal table. I look around, no type of mechanism to help me walk. Which leaves me no other choice, I am forced to struggle and fall in pain towards the woods.
Each time I fall it gets harder and harder to get up. Despair makes its way through me, it was just tragedy after tragedy.
I make it to the woods and find a fallen branch, fashioning it to use as a cane. It burns to use my arms to push on the stick. I ignore the pain, and I start walking, continuing to ignore the pain radiating from every inch of my body. I walk for what seems hours upon hours until I finally reach a drug store.
"How convenient," I grumble.
I feel my pockets, and to my dismay, I had no money. I try to open the door, and when the door doesn't open, I notice the sign says 'closed'. I find a rock and break the lock; luckily for me, no alarm sounds. I step inside and find a backpack, filling it with food and water, painkillers, and lots of medical tape. I limp outside, hearing sirens, I jerk my head to see a red camera.
silent alarm
I quickly limp inside and tear the camera off the wall, then I proceed to the computer and hack into the mainstream recording, a smile smile on my face as I felt a little bit of the old me. I erase any evidence of me being there and grab a hunting knife on my way out.
I limped as fast as I could away from the store, and studied the map that I snatched and shoved in my bag. I find the store on the map and then spot Beacon Hills. Almost three days worth of walking, that is, if my distance deciphering was as skilled as I thought. I wanted to cry and lay in defeat at the thought of walking for three days.
But I didn't, I have to prove them wrong. I have to show them that I'm not weak.
"I'm not!" I scream, adrenaline rushing through me.
I start walking quite fast, more like a dangerous game of stumble until I fall. I have to stop multiple times, and take one too many painkillers. I wrap my wrists and my ankles with the tape I stole. I wrap my entire torso, and hope that everything can hold out until I can get to a hospital.
My food is out by the second day, which consisted of granola bars and peanut butter crackers, and I only had one water bottle left. I've been fine so far, not sleeping more than an hour or two until my mind tells me to keep going until i've made it. I've surprisingly not had anything attack me.
A little break, how thoughtful.
Relief flooded me as I came into the view of lights, of ambulances. I had dropped the backpack after I was out of everything, and the knife was tucked in the strap of my underwear.
They saw me too, they being the small group of people standing idly outside. Two security guards put their hands on their guns defensively, and a nurse stares at me with thought.
Thinking quickly, I grab the knife and hurl it into the forest, and then my body finally gives out, and I collapse. My vision goes blurry, the lack of adrenaline allowing my body to let my injuries and malnutrition catch up to me. I hazily watch the three figures sprint towards me.
I was out as soon as I hit the ground.