Chaos Returns

14

Stiles

I don't want to open my eyes. Not yet. 

I know I'm no longer dreaming. I know Ella is dead. 

Another tear falls down my cheek, and I reach up to wipe it away. But my wrists are tied together behind my back. My breathing speeds up, and I call out for Void in my mind. But no one answers. I begin to panic, tugging aggressively at the binds holding me down. After a minute of thrashing around, I have to stop and catch my breath.

I'm suddenly deadly aware that I am weak. Helpless. 

I call out silently once more, but hear no response. 

Void is gone.

I'm human. 

I look around, I'm in a basement... but the structure of the pillars is the same as the building I was before. It looks partially finished, with tarps hanging from the rafters and piles of wood on the floor. The chair I'm tied to is in the middle of the room, the only source of light being the single light bulb swinging above my head.

I've gotten so used to having heightened hearing, sight, touch... but sitting here, I can't feel anything. I can't hear the hum of electricity, or smell the fresh cut cedar piled in the corner as I would be able to with Void. 

I hate it. 

I let out a frustrated sigh. My wrists are becoming raw from the ropes, my jaw hurts, and most importantly, my chest feels empty. I just lost my wife, then I lost Allison; for the second time, and now I've lost Void. He has become my friend, my family, and though I will never tell him this, I care for him. 

"Frustrating, isn't it?" I hear someone ask, startled by their voice. One I don't recognize. I hadn't heard them walking towards me. I look around, but I don't see anyone. 

"Who's there?"

They chuckle, their voice neither feminine or masculine. "Weak and powerless." They say, not answering my question. "It's hard being human. Isn't it?"

"Show yourself, coward." I hiss. 

"I'd prefer not to." They sound closer. "You see, I have many faces, my dear. It is up to you which one you chose to see."

"Let me go and we'll see which face of yours I break first."

"Those are mighty words coming from someone tied to a chair."

I scoff. "A siren can't fight. They use their voices... their gift of persuasion, the listener can't do anything but obey. I know what you are." I try to slow my rapid pulse. "Now untie me or I swear to God, you are going to be the second person I kill when I get out of here."

They pause. "Am I not important enough to be the first?"

"Not by a long shot." I grit my molars at the thought of Scott McCall. "Not by a long shot."

"Then who, I might ask, is more important than me?"

"Scott Fucking McCall." I say, and even without my supernatural abilities, I can sense their smile.

"What a coincidence, Mr. Stilinski. He's on his way here right now." 

I look up, "he's what?"

A soft chuckle, clearly feminine. "Let us make a deal." She offers, standing right behind me, her fingers drumming my shoulders. "Work for me, Mr. Stilinski. Only for a week, that's all I ask. Once that week is up and you've obeyed my orders, I will bring your wife back. Alive and well."

"You-" I breath in. "You can do that?"

"How do you think I brought Miss. Allison Argent back?"

I connect the dots. "And what orders will I be obeying?"

"Just little things..." she goes quiet. "They shouldn't be a problem for someone of your stature."

I try again to look behind me, but I can't see anyone. Scowling, I turn back to face the wall in front of me. "How do I know you will keep your promise?"

"With your knowledge, you should know that sirens cannot lie."

"Yet you still twist your words."

"We must come to an agreement soon, Mr. Stilinski. I sense he is close."

I think on it, knowing damn well that this is not a deal I should be making. 

But I made one with Void. How is this any different?

"I have one final request." I say, looking down; utterly defeated. "Once I agree, you give me Void. Whatever you have done with him, wherever he is, you give him back."

She seems to find my request funny, because she scoffs. "Why my dear, you do not need him." She says, running her fingers along me back. "He was a fox, Mr. Stilinski, but you are a wolf." Her voice is deadly as her nails brush the side of my neck. A shiver runs down my spine. "While the fox lay sleeping beneath, the wolf hunts on the surface." She rounds the chair, finally letting me see her face. "And tonight, my dear wolf, you will be insatiable."