The New World [Book 1 Of ?] *recontinued*

"we're In Trouble"

°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°
3RD PERSON POV
The wind was howling, blowing stuff away from their places, doors opening and closing shut with a bang. Freya and Davina's hair flying in their faces as they continue to chant a spell that is doing nothing but anger Stiles. Elijah and Kol stand wide-eyed at the anger Stiles in showing.
Stile's remained cold, his grey face almost blending in with the overcast weather that he produced in his anger. His red eyes piercing the souls of them who look at them.
Klaus struggles to stand up in the wind, blood still present on his forehead and he groans in discomfort. The 2 witches continue chant yet failing to subdue Stiles, the wind grows angrier and he lifts up his hand, manipulating the air around him and points it to blast the witches away but a sickening crack prevents it.
Stile's body crumples to the ground in a heap as the weather begins to dissappear into nothingness. The wind grows more calm and peaceful as the grey clouds reveal the vast blue sky and white puffy clouds.
The family sigh in relief at seeing Hayley stand above the temporarily dead Stiles, panting. Klaus walks over to Stiles and crouches down beside him, his eyes have returned to its natural brown.
"we need to lock him up" Klaus sighs before standing up to address the others.
They nod and begin to prepare.

After a bit they have Stiles successfully chained to the concrete floor.
Five little squares drilled into the concrete with little circles holding the chains, 2 chains are attaches to hands, made so his hand are involuntarily in a line and his legs made so he is kneeling. One chain with a metal claw is wrapped around him torso adding more security to keep Stiles at bay incase he is angery when he wakes.
Stiles' head is facing the ground, his neck still broken as the Mikaelsons and the Claire stare at him.
"what happened?" the harvest witch asked, hands in her hips.
"it appears the secret Niklaus has been withholding from him has made him irritable" Elijah explains, Klaus, who is walking back and forth stops walking and faces Elijah.
"irritable? I don't think what we just witnessed was him being irritated, brother that was pure rage" Niklaus yells storming to Elijah put Freya halts him,
"that's not important right now Klaus" he looks at her and is about to give her a piece of his mind "we now need to think about how to tell him he is your son" Freya says raising her voice slightly, Klaus silently nods before turning to Stiles.

A few minutes later, they hear groans and they turn to see Stiles stirring. He moves his head and blinks before attempting to move his arms, hearing the chains rattle he looks up and around.
Stile's furrows his brow before looking at the people in front of him.
He takes in all of their appearances but begins to stare at the Claire witch who shys away from his stare, heat going to her cheek.
Stile's groans.
"what happened?" he asked, squinting his eyes. Klaus approaches and kneels down beside him.
"you lost your temper and attempted to kill me" Klaus recalls. Stiles shakes his head in confusion but closes his eyes and gasps in pain. After a second the pain subsides, he looks up again and is meet with Klaus' hard gaze.
"I... I don't remember, my head is" he gasps in pain again and looks to the ground, eyes squeezed shut.
Klaus turns cold to confused for his son.
He grabs his chin and forces Stiles to face his confused face, Stiles' eyes remain shut as blood leaks from the edge of his eyes.
He begins to yell in pain and Klaus paniks.
"Stiles, Stiles"he yells and he turns to Freya.
" I'll find something to help" she informs him before scurrying away.
Stiles continues to yell but it begins to subside and he pants.
He looks at Klaus and his eyes go wide.
Stiles' iris have a grey tint and where the white should be is a dark red, Stiles' eyes fly over Klaus' face before speaking
"We're in trouble"

Ik it's a boring chapter but next chapter, rest assured shits about to go down with the originals and supernatural
°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°