The punches never seem to stop and the man seems to have never ending energy. And what's worse is that his attacker is determined to keep him conscious. Any time that he feels himself being gripped into unconsciousness, the man stops and waits for him to get his act together.
The fifth time he is grabbed back to reality by a bucket of ice water is when he decides he needs to stall. Stall long enough between the almost black outs and series of beatings so that he may actually begin to devise a plan.
A plan centered on gaining enough time for the shitty werewolves to come and rescue him from this lunatic. He had to use his one skill. He had to talk like his life…shit. His life did depend if he could talk long enough.
This realization made his heart go frantic and his eyes darted across the bare basement room excluding the large bag that the man carried with him. The man had stepped back and was now lounging on the bottom step of the stairs. The wide smile on his face, as he observed his work caused Stiles lips to refuse to open.
He had faced several psychos in his short life, but he had always had a sense of what their goals were. Why they were so determined to use the human to their advantage. Peter, Matt, and Gerard all used him for their plans; plans which he had a vague sense of what their concepts were.
But this man in front of him has been tight lipped throughout the whole procedure of kicking his ass. He needs him to start his monologue on how he perfectly devised this plan and hopefully give away some key information.
Taking a deep breath, he looks up to the man and pushes past the fear. "You know I never got your name." He pauses as he has to swallow the blood pooling in his mouth. He gives the man a blood stained smile before he continues. "Well whatever your name is, I can see why you and Kate got along so well." He knows saying her name pisses off the man, so he quickly yells his insult before the next assault hits him. "Because you're both batshit crazy."
He braces himself for the blow, but strangely it never comes. When he finally opens his eyes and looks at his attacker, he finds that the man is rubbing his chin and is clearly thinking. After a couple painfully slow silent moments he finally shrugs and replies. "Just because I actually have manners, I'll let you know my name." He picks up the gun that he has kept by his side the entire time and pushes the handle against the teenager's temple. With a wide grin he declares "The name's Bruce.B-R-U-C-E." Each letter is accompanied by a rough push on his skin by the gun.
"Like the shark in Finding Nemo. Do you too have father issues?" The answer Stiles receives is a kick in the groin, which he takes as a yes.
Bruce spits on the floor and mutters something that Stiles cannot hear. The man's grip on the gun is tightened and he paces the floor. The mutterings soon start turning to growls which thankfully to all the time spent with Derek, Stiles is fluent in.
"I shouldn't have fired those bullets. Should have used the gun the boss gave me, damn it Bruce. Think first, and then act. Think first then act think first then act think first THEN ACT!" The last words are screamed and Stiles flinches away as the man turns toward him eyes ablaze and hands shaking. The man raises the gun and points it at Stiles. His breathing is heavy and his body is shaking with rage.
Stiles watches as Bruce stalks towards him and brings his hand up and pistol whips him. The bitter familiar taste of blood fills his mouth, but he barely has time to recognize the pain before the gun once again hits his face. Something dislodges in his mouth and he opens his mouth in shock and horror as the small object rolls with the blood out of his mouth.
His molar is lying on his lap in a pile of blood. That's when the truth hits him.
He can't talk his way out of this. The man in front of him is a monster. An insane monster that has no control of his actions or temper. His heartbeat quickens and his eyes start burning with oncoming tears of fear.
God damn it, he's only sixteen. He shouldn't be in this situation. HE DOESN'T DESERVE THIS DEATH. He's going to die at the hands of some fucking psycho. Unless he pulls some fucking Chris Angel shit right now and escapes this hell.
There is a series of knocking that snaps Bruce out of his path of destruction. He places the gun back in his holster matching the one on the opposite side. The man leaves and the moment he closes the door, Stiles is working on the rope that has his hands pinned to the back of the chair.
It's his body reaction no doubt pumping adrenaline for his 'fight or flight' reaction. It's not too hard to guess which one his body is choosing as his hands try to find a weak spot in the knot. The knot is complex tight and completely foreign to him. "I guess I should have let dad put me in boy scouts all those years ago."
The laugh that comes out of him sounds more like a sob, but he won't admit that. He can't fucking lose it here. The pack of werewolves that are equipped with super strength and super senses will find him eventually. Yes, Derek and the others will save him. He just has to continue thinking like that. Because he can't have his dad come back to a son that is even more screwed up than how he left. Or worse his corpse.
He tries to stop laughing, sobbing his mind quips in, before Bruce comes back in.
"We are under attack." Derek announces to his pack. His voice has gone to shit from being in the smoke so long, and the wolfs bane in it has him coughing violently every few seconds. He'd only been in that smoke for a few seconds, so he can't image how Scott must have felt when he had to inhale those toxins for over half an hour. He looks and feels like shit, but he has to stay strong in front of his pack.
They are safely in the woods hidden from the authorities' eyes as the fire still consumes the Argent house. Lydia is at the hospital with the hunter so the moment he wakes up, she can question and find out what happen. Everyone but Isaac and Jackson got a glimpse of what was inside that house, and all wanted answers. The sight of a bloody Stiles in the grip of a gas mask wearing man shook the pack and refused to leave their minds.
Staring at the young werewolves he continues. "The enemy is strong and is most likely a hunter. He has wolfs bane and is equipped with several weapons. He also has Stiles and is using him as a hostage. Right now, in pairs I want you to scout the town for any clues. Look out for abandoned or houses for sale, cars with out of state or suspicious license plates. If you think you found something don't go any further until I tell you. The enemy will kill you on sight, and we must attack him as a group."
"But what if we find Stiles and we think we can save him?" Isaac piped up. His eyes pierced into Derek's waiting for an answer. The Alpha tried to find an acceptable response, but Peter cut him to it. "Than that thought will be your brain's last, before a bullet goes thought it. The enemy is unknown and dangerous. The two highly unwanted qualities in a foe. Now if you would like to die then please disregard what you have just heard and go scamper off." The elder smiled at the four and chuckled darkly when they all rolled his eyes at him.
"Ah the ignorance of youth." He teased which only got the four to get away quicker. The two Hales watched as Erica and Boyd headed towards the forest while Isaac and Jackson took the town. Rubbing his face roughly Derek turned to his uncle and asked. "Any new information on who is behind all this?"
"Well from everything you told me, I can highly assume that the enemy is not supernatural. Most likely a rogue hunter, who has been watching the pack for a while, saw how chummy you and the boy had gotten and is now using him as a hostage. Managed to get Chris out of the way and get Stiles all in one night. Really Derek he's outplaying you in every move. And as long as he has Stiles, he has leverage over you. This guy seems like a real lunatic."
Derek knew he was in trouble when his insane once deceased uncle called someone crazy. His stomach dropped just imagining Stiles being alone with the man. If anything happened to him, it would be his fault. Again he rubbed his face roughly and tried to comprehend what had happened in the last 24 hours.
"Now the only flaw to the system is the fact that Stiles raised a gun at you. This can be defended by the man maybe threatening the sheriff. That reminds me-"The elder fished through his pockets before pulling out a cellphone and handing it to his nephew. "His father and the idiot have been calling and texting nonstop."
Derek didn't reply but instead scrolled through the long lists of missed calls and several text messages. The texts from Scott and the sheriff got more demanding as he scrolled down and he knew the sheriff would soon come barging in the town ready to raise hell. He just had to find Stiles before that.
"Don't frown little nephew, the good thing about hostages is that they need to be kept alive. Sure they can be beaten to a fragment of their life still hanging, but still living." Sadly the comforting words did not do their job and Derek growled at him to continue researching. He had to go run back to the sheriff's house to see if he overlooked any possible clues.
He should have never tried to get out of the rope. He should of at least been able to look like he wasn't trying to get out before the monster came back. But he was an idiot.
An idiot who was suffering from the symptoms of smoke inhalation his mind consoled. He couldn't take a full breath and his thought process had gone to shit. So when Bruce came back barging into the basement, his hands stuttered in their movement. Catching the movement Bruce laid down the paper that he came down with, and went to look at the rope.
To be fair he shouldn't have been mad, Stiles really didn't get any work done on it except to give himself rope burn. But when he saw that the other was trying to escape, all hell broke loose.
Punches were thrown, kicks were delivered and insults that Stiles had never thought of were said. Stiles mentally prepared himself for this but when the man started digging through his large bag, he began to worry.
When the man came back to him with pliers in his hand and the paper in the other, Stiles began to panic. His feet tried to push himself away but the dull ache in his back that was over ridden by the other pains decided to flare up. To his horror, his feet didn't have the strength to push or kick himself away from the man.
He was left paralyzed, feet unresponsive and arms tied in an unbreakable knot.
"Don't please don't." He couldn't help but plead to the monster. He watched in terror as the man stood in front of him. The hand holding the pliers remained at his side but the hand clenching the paper rose. Holding the paper, which Stiles now sees is the treaty from Argent's, to the other's face he offers
"We can end all of this, if you sign this little paper. You get to go home, I get to have a few new fur coats and Beacon Hills becomes a safe town once again. C'mon end all of this madness by just signing this paper. Be a hero."
The words drift through him and his hazy mind barely grabbed what the man is asking of him. He wants him to betray Derek and the rest of the pack. He feels his head begin to shake in disapproval and he barely manages two shakes before his head is clenched between Bruce's hand.
The man smile is wide and thin as he hisses out. "Fine then, I'm going to make you scream your little heart out."
Before Stiles could comprehend what is happening Bruce has split the rope on his arms and hands and wretches both forward. The hand that held the pliers is now in front of him, and he can't hold back a scream of alarm when he realized what is going to happen. He tries to fight but that only earns him a blow to the head that takes away his vision.
His left hand is grabbed and his breathing quickens when he feels the cold metal brush underneath his nail.
He doesn't know when exactly, but his mind slowly takes him away from what is going to happen. He takes a deep breath and thinks of the man who is currently pinning his arms. He is Kate's former lover and possible widower, the ring on the man's ring finger can be an engagement ring for all he knows. He obviously loved the bitch.
The pain of the pliers grabbing his fingernail halts his thoughts for a moment and he hears someone begging. The voice is hoarse and urgent. He's trying to find out who the voice belongs to when his inner voice begins to scream at him to get his attention back to dissecting the man.
The man is out for revenge, and most likely Derek or Peter is his target. Why the hell is he currently having his fingernails being torn off? Well that was just his luck wasn't it? The time where he and Derek actually were getting along and not causing bodily harm (excluding the first day) some psycho was watching them.
The scream that comes from him, after his nail is ripped off is short but loud. His breaths are rapid and uneven and he swears he can hear his heartbeat in his throat. The burning fire that has taken over the tip of his finger is mind blowing, but he is aware of the cool metal sensation resting under his left thumb. "No no no no stop." The pleads tumble out of his mouth but the pressure of the pliers grabbing his nail doesn't slow down. Before his mind can successfully distract him, the unnatural sensation of his nail being ripped overcomes him. His scream are a mixture of pleads and insults as the pain overwhelms him.
After the second nail is thrown to the floor, Bruce backs away and admires his slowly breaking masterpiece. He merely watches as the boy sobs and loves how his hands shake. Such a beautiful sight, but could be improved. He really hoped by the end of the night he was able to break the boy. When the boy calms a little he steps forward and grabs both arms to return them back to the rope. "Scream a little louder next time. Remember you're going to die here….unless of course you want to change your mind and sign the treaty. "
He waits a moment for a response but when he only gets the boy spitting on the floor with a muffled "Screw you' he laughs loudly. Leaning closer to the boy he whispers into the other's ear with glee in his voice. "I can't wait to see their faces when they find your body."
The panicked yell has him turning quickly to the duo that is running towards him. Their faces are pale and their expressions look like they just saw a ghost. Isaac's wide eyes frantically dart from his Alpha to what Jackson is holding. And that is when Derek sees the body in Jackson's arms. An arm hangs limply from his hold and Derek can see the bold blue veins covering the arm.
And he is sure his face falls so violently, because Isaac and Jackson slow down their pace and actually seem wary of the Alpha. But it doesn't matter because he sprints the remaining space between them. He runs to the body in Jackson's arms and he doesn't know whether to be angry, relieved or self-disgusted when he finds himself staring down at a corpse of a young girl.
He is relieved that he is not staring at Stiles' corpse, angry that he has not yet found him and disgusted at himself for being relieved that another person has died instead of Stiles. He is so wrapped up in his thoughts that he barely realizes Jackson is talking and gets the last of what he is saying.
"She was barely alive when we found her in the woods. We tried to get here quick enough but-." He stops for a moment before he continues."The only injuries she had are on her hands." Jackson informs him and gently reveals the girl's palm. Isaac turns away from the injury and is able to see Peter coming their way. He eagerly gives the elder his spot and walks a few feet away from the corpse.
Peter steps closer to get a better look at the wounds and Derek sees the familiar expression of his uncle putting pieces of information together. He grabs the other hand and looks closer at the wound. Neither Jackson nor Derek dare to voice out any questions and instead watch Peter's every move.
When he grabs the girl's wrist and harshly snaps the bone, both try to intervene but the elder gives them a look that stops them. "Why don't you open your eyes and see what just fell on the floor." A few drops of blood dot the floor but are also accompanied by specs of black ash.
"What the hell?"
Peter ignores the comments and thinks aloud. "She was drained for all that she could give. Whoever killed her managed to use her to the last breath. The person also has a large amount of mountain ash now."
"They used her? Wait what the hell is mountain ash?"
"Mountain Ash my idiot boy is tree that can control and weaken supernatural creatures. For example, werewolves cannot pass a line of mountain ash no matter how hard they try. Poor child. An innocent death used for a war she had no part of. Then again isn't that what makes war fun." The smile on his face drops a little after seeing the looks of disgust on Jackson and Derek's faces. He sighs and returns his gaze towards the corpse. "Well the enemy has a hostage and most likely now, mountain ash."
Jackson and Isaac turned to Derek waiting for the next command. But their gazes were unmet as the Alpha was staring at the ground, his brows furrowed and hands fisted with concentration. "At the rave…Stiles." His eyes stared at the corpse still in Jackson's arms and then reached his uncle's. Eyes wide with horror realization as his memory finally became clear. "I think Stiles can make mountain ash."
"Well looks like our rescue time just got cut in half then." Peter drawled out.
All my apologies for the lateness BUT here is chapter 13! Shit is about to go down the next 5 chapters so I'm pretty excited.
Thank you to banhan, LeoMejia,Name's Nick, cancoolcandy, Rosejoanna, shutupbilinski(omg that name XD), Guest1, Guest2, monkeymuse, blacker875, marble-fire, guest3,0809m, oalntopTiger999, heatherfeather99 for reviewing.
Also Nifters you must have read my mind, cause Bruce's name was inspired from the shark in Finding Nemo. Ten Points to you Nifters! lol
Ok please review because the future chapters are only going to get more violent and I would love to hear from you guys and your opinions.
Alright I hope you guys have a great day and thank you for reading.