Inside My Head (Stiles Stilinski)

chapter 25

Levi woke up to the feeling of being struck with a hundred arrows at once, all over his body. His eyes snapped open, wide and frantic as he looked around. 

Nothing.

He was still in the same room. In the same chair. In the same ropes.

He was still as useless as he was the night before.

Light peeked through the small window at the top of the wall, right into his right eye, practically blinding him through his eyelashes. The boy breathed heavily as the pain subsided into a dull ache all over. 

They're healing...

He let out a sigh of relief. 

They're okay.

For now.

He could hear weak struggles from above, he assumed they'd got Erica and Boyd inside the house. 

All he could do was hope they managed to get out sooner rather than later.

Stiles rolled his eyes as the burly man dragged him down into the dark room, "ow. Ow. Ow." Only when he was thrown to the bottom of the stairs did he let go and slammed the door shut, leaving him alone in the basement.

Or at least, he thought he was alone until he heard soft whimpers of a girl from beside him.

He frowned, forcing himself to get up and find a light switch on the wall.

It's safe to say he regretted turning it on the moment he saw who it was:

Erica and Boyd stood on their tiptoes, arms pulled to the ceiling with wires and rope, not allowing any wiggle room as they looked at the pale boy with wide eyes and tear struck faces.

His lips parted unconsciously, a gasp escaping them as he realised just exactly what the situation was.

Stiles moved over to them quickly, ignoring their loud muffled yells, held in by the tape covering their mouths.

Only when he touched the wires, he was suddenly struck by a sharp pain in his hand that spread up his arm. 

Almost... electric.

"They were trying to warn you... It's electrified." 

The three teenagers all looked at the man who has somehow snuck down the stairs and into the basement. He had this expression on his face... this expression that said 'i'm ten steps ahead and none of you even realise it yet'. 

And it was terrifying.

"What are you doing with them?"

He was scared to ask.

Gerard Argent, a long term werewolf hunter who had cut someone in half, now had two werewolves in his basement, strung up like pigs in a butcher shop.

It definitely wasn't to have them there for tea and biscuits.

"At the moment? Just keeping them comfortable. There's no point in torturing them. They won't give Derek up- the instinct to protect their Alpha is too strong."

He let out a sigh of relief. 

A brief relief but it was better than nothing.

"Okay, so, what are you doing with me? Because Scott can find me, all right? He knows my scent. It's pungent, you know? It's more like a stench. He could find me even if I was buried at the bottom of a sewer, covered in faecal matter and urine-"