There have been tales through the ages of horrifying beasts that take children in the night, rip their bodies to pieces, and eat their remains. The guttural noises they make are things of legend and are never heard to this day, but if you listen closely enough you may just hear their curse upon the living. If you overhear that curse you shall pray, for if not you shall find your soul stolen and feasted upon by the demons of the night.

,,,

"Stiles!" the teen boy called out, his dark curly hair bouncing around as he climbed another hill. "What are we doing out here again?" The wet leaves slid around under his boots and made squelching noises. A laugh escaped his mouth as his lungs strained in the chilled air, autumn had finally reached Beacon Hills just a few weeks before. Not hearing a response from his friend he called out again, "Stiles!"

"What are you yelling for?" Scott jumped his heart trying to hurdle through his rib cage. Stiles had appeared from seemingly nowhere in the condensed forest. "Come on my father said that the last incident was just this way," Stiles said enthusiastically pointing in the opposing direction towards a more open area.

As they reached the clearing a putrid smell overcame them and it took all of Stiles' control to keep from vomiting. Scott however was having a harder time dealing with the scene before them. There was dried blood and what looked like bits of flesh littering the ground before them. Maggots were crawling on the ground their disgusting white bodies clambering around looking for more food to fill their swelling stomachs. Stiles' stomach turned but he looked upon the sight with fascination. What in the world had done such a thing to a human? What could pull a human apart like that?

"Oh god," was all Scott uttered, his breath shattering the silence around them.

,,,

Goosebumps formed on Stiles' arm as Scott's reassuring hand pressed on his shoulder. He looked at his friend who was smiling at him, "I have to get on home or Allison and mother will start pestering the others. After all, we did mention we were going out on a quick hunt and I'm going to be in trouble for not bringing home any game." Stiles beamed. "Oh no, I know that face, I'm not doing anything that will get me into any more trouble!"

Stiles laughed, "Oh come on! It'll be fun we'll go hunting later tonight, that way in the morning Allison will have nothing to pester you about, although, she already worships the ground you walk upon lover boy." He chuckled again as Scott tried to make a hitting pass at his head.

The rest of the way was spent taking shots at each other and laughing more than normal. Maybe the two men just needed to get out of the strangeness the forest had strung on them. By the time the two reached the village, fires were already burning in homes and the smell of maple filled their noses. Scott waved to Stiles with a look that told him that, yes, he would be meeting him later tonight. Stiles watched as Scott entered his own home the light from inside swallowing his form before they disappeared altogether and there was nothing left but the dark of the night and the white light of the waxing moon.

Stiles' hand pushed against the wooden door and it opened with little struggle. The warmth of the house hit his face first and his body seemed to sigh in content. The door closed behind him and he noticed his father sitting at the small table they ate at on most nights. He looked up at his son before offering him a bowl for the warm and creamy soup just next to the hearth. After settling in and getting through the first few awkward conversations of the usual 'How was your day? What shenanigans did you get up to today?' a comfortable silence followed.

"So what would leave scratch marks like that?" A large sigh broke the silence.

"You just had to go to see it didn't you? Can't stay out of goddamn trouble can you?" His father pinched the space between his eyes. Stiles felt bad, he really did, but he just wanted to understand certain things. Like what and why people did what they did, the habits of the wildlife, how did it all connect? He jumped in surprise when his father's hand bumped the table. "Son, why can't you just leave this alone? I've already reckoned the killer to be a wild animal, some sort of mountain lion or dog. We all hear their moaning and crying at night, so pray tell me why you can't just heed my words." His father's eyes searched his, looking, no begging for some sort of answer to spill through.

Stiles just ran his hand through his hair, a nervous habit he'd picked up. His father just sighed from the other side of the table. His chair scrapped the floor and he pulled his coat on. "I'm going to check on the men and walk the gate. I know I'll regret saying this later, but please son, stay out of trouble."

"I promise dad," Stiles reassured his father with a smile.

,,,

The wet dirt under his shoes caved a little under the weight of his body as he walked to meet Scott. He found the nervous man near the perimeter the townsmen had made around Beacon Hills. He stood looking around and shuffling his feet in the leaves.

"Scott lets go," he says tugging on his shirt and pulling in another direction. They would head west from their spot, since it is most likely that his father hasn't assigned much security near the wall; towards the woods they had been in earlier in the day. There hadn't been any attacks this close to the village and even less incidents had been in these parts of the woods. All the attacks had been the same. Teeth and claw marks were all that was left on the mangled and nearly undistinguishable bodies by the time his father, or anyone for that matter, had found them.

The two boys settled on the ground behind trees to keep hidden from the other men. Getting scolded for trying to help his father was not on Stiles' agenda for the night. Time crawled on and the moon was higher in the branches when Stiles realized he was starting to drift asleep. When sleep was about to overcome him, the howls started, but Stiles couldn't fight the urge to keep himself awake. Dreams of wolf faces and morbid humans slithered through his dreams like demons from hell, gangly limbs, throbbing flesh, and teeth as large as his fingers. Wide blue eyes gazed into his and the screaming started, quiet and hardly there but then it became so loud. Couldn't they just be quiet? He couldn't concentrate! Whose blue eyes were those? Just be quiet! The ground was coming at his head too fast and he tried to put his hands out too late to keep himself from hitting the ground. Stiles was disoriented for a moment before he pulled himself up and he realized the screaming was still ringing out into the night. It echoed in his head strangely and the ground seemed to be at a diagonal. Where was Scott? He ran, his chest heaving, "Scott!" Where was he? He was right there with him. Had he gone off to relieve himself? Where was the bastard? As he ran through the darkened woods he had finally come to see some men gathered ahead. The screaming had quieted in his head and all he could hear now was heavy breathing and a small, continuous buzzing noise. It got louder as he wandered towards the men. Two of them turned around to look at him, they were angry, or was it pity that laced their eyes?

People were pushing and shoving at him. His body felt so weird, like when one had a head cold and it felt like it was full of thick cotton. His mouth was terribly dry. The world around him was whirling uncontrollably around him. A heaviness and heart ache filled his being as the people gripped him with their filthy fingers. Why wouldn't people just stop touching him? Couldn't they just tell him where Scott-

"Oh god." Scott. It was Scott wasn't it. There was a body; a body that only Stiles could possibly recognize. It was ripped open, torn to bits of shreds and scraps of meat that even dogs would care not for. There was so much blood…Oh God above, there was so much blood. "S-Scott. " His body wouldn't move as his blood froze within the very veins.

"Stiles," His father was calling him and those damn hands just wouldn't stop touching him! Fighting through them, the teen pushed through the hands and slapped them away. Damn them all!

"Scott!" Why wasn't- why wasn't he moving?! He was just lying there and scaring the shit out of him. "Wake up. Wake up! WAKE UP! DAMMIT SCOTT!" Unable to keep himself at the side of the corpse, the grotesque hands of people drug him away, like some lifeless doll with no power or control.

"STILES!" His father was yelling and pulling his shirt. "What the hell are you doing here son?" His grip was practically choking him, everything was so hot outside suddenly. "Son-"

"He's trouble Stilinski! We all told you!"

"See what he's done!"

"Throw him out! He's nothing but a nuisance!"

"He'll get us all killed! Get him out of here Stilinski or we'll do it for you!"

Those hands were pushing him out and home, but he knew, he knew those disgusting maggots would be back and they would be their endless pit selves. Just there to feast and gorge themselves on everything anyone ever loved. Everything Stiles had ever loved.

"Son, I need you to get out of this trance for just a few moments. We can't stay here any longer." You can't stay here any longer. "People, people just don't understand that you're trying to help." You're just getting in the way of everything I've ever tried to create for us. "We have to leave first thing tomorrow morning. We'll travel east to the next town over. We're no longer wanted here." You're no longer wanted. His father's hands tightened on his shoulders. Why couldn't people just let him walk on his own? Was he not trusted enough? He was being treated as if he were a boy. Maybe that's what everyone thought he was, just a boy.

,,,

The stream water tasted stale and he could feel bits of dirt grind down in his teeth. Stiles splashed his face with the same water hoping it would alert his senses and his body would be more awake. His father slapped him on the shoulder signaling that it was time to move on once more. He picked up the cart again and with his back muscles straining and pulled it along the trail again. It was the second day out of town and it seemed like winter was already striking the forest around them. The ground was harder and a chill had started to seep into Stiles' clothing.

By nightfall, Stiles was trying his hardest not to fall asleep. The lack of fire was forcing his body to shiver its way into warmth but he dare not let himself fall into his fitful sleep he'd been having as of late. Nightmares of bugs and carcasses filled his head. The screaming was always louder and rang through his head every morning. A storm was forming overhead and wind was starting to weave through the trees. It whistled its way around the trunks and through the bends of the uneven terrain. Stiles knew the howling and the groaning of the trees would start soon. He covered his head and prayed that his sleep tonight would be restful.

,,,

The land was overcome with ice and falling snow. The entire forest was nothing but white as the moon reflected off of the frozen water. There were sheets of hail currently raining down on the two soaked men who had become lost a day before. After waking up, Stile's father had announced that the trail was missing. Snow had pelted the area and ever since then they hadn't been able to get any sort of sign of the path.

"Stiles, I think, I think I see something up ahead! A house or some sort of building!" He tugged at his son's shirt. Stiles followed his father and pulled the cart with much effort through the thickening snow. He trudged through it and the small family found themselves before a house indeed. It was a manor a very large and wealthy manor, though something was strangely off. Stiles looked around but the falling snow was so thick there was nothing to see except for the dark house before them. His father looked and him as though to say it was now or never and proceeded to pull the rope for the bell.

"Excuse us!" his father called out. "We're looking for a place we might stay for the night and keep out of the storm!" it was a good effort, but it seemed like the wind was picking up his voice and stealing it away.

They stood there for a moment more, waiting for some sign of life from the windows to hint that people actually lived inside. The large oak door before them groaned and out of the dark of the hall stepped a man. His height wasn't much more than Stiles' father but his build was indeed impressive. He was refined from his clothing to his stature, and his bright blue eyes were like nothing Stiles had ever seen. He smiled at Stiles and his father, something that seemed to pull all his attention into, the cold weather must be getting to Stiles' head.

"Excuse us. We're looking for a place we might stay the night out of the storm. If there is some sort of stable or barn we would be very much in your debt-"

"There is no cause for such formalities Mr.?"

"Stilinski, sir," his father nodded.

"Mr. Stilinski, welcome would you please come inside, where we can have this conversation in a more appropriate area?" He waved the two inside and out of the storm. With the cart abandoned outside, the two discarded their outer clothing and left them to dry. The two men were led down the hallway to a sitting room where a fire had already been started. "Please sit and take rest. I'll call for tea and in the meantime you can perhaps introduce me to your situation, we would love to have you until this snow storm has let up." His smile was once again drawing in Stiles, and those blue eyes, he just couldn't get over how radiant they were even in a dark room such as the one they were in.

Stiles yelped, an entire conversation had been going on, on his behalf and he had missed it until his father had decided to step on his foot. He was currently giving him a stern look.

"I'm sorry he's been distracted ever since we left Beacon Hills. He's had quite a loss," his voice trailed. Why in the world would his father tell such personal things to people they'd never met? "Stiles, Mr. Hale has offered to take you into his home," his eyes shot over to Mr. Hale, what was this man thinking taking in the two of them.

"I-I'm sorry. I must be very confused, dad do you know Mr. Hale? I don't mean to be rude but why would I stay here if we're heading just east of here?" Stiles thought he would never get used to that drop of his father's jaw when he was embarrassed or frustrated with his son. Then there was the silence that filled the room before Mr. Hale let out a laugh, and there was nothing that could prepare Stiles for the embarrassment he currently felt. His face was suddenly hot and his nerves were frazzled.

,,,

The nearby fire crackled in the grate which did nothing to settle Stiles. Each pop reminded him of the bone crunching and tendon popping that he lived through every night. The sickening noises turned his stomach. He pulled his hands over his ears trying to keep the noises from grating in his mind. A warm hand on his knee broke his concentration and he looked up at his father.

"Son I know that this is all going so suddenly, but Peter is offering you a great, once in a lifetime chance. Your mother and I…we always talked about- hoped for the chance to give you an education," his father never talked about his mother. Stiles saw that his eyes were glossy in the firelight.

Between the two of them his mother was taboo. She had died when Stiles was only eight and he barely even remembered much about her. It was like glimpses of memories; tag through the woods, singing songs in her lap, running his fingers in her long curly hair, the freckles that dusted her cheeks, just the small things. He knew he was lucky to remember the small things, his father remembered everything, had years of memories, years of love and afterwards years of anguish.

"This is a tough decision for me as well. I have to leave you behind," Stiles started. His father held up his hand, "Now wait. It's a deal I'm willing to make on your behalf and while you get your education I'll have time to raise what we need to live comfortably. Stiles this really is for the best." The hand against his knee squeezed harder. He was being left behind.

,,,

His father's coat sleeves had barely slid onto his arms before he had grabbed Stiles into a hug. His arms wrapped tightly around him. He knew his father didn't truly want to leave him. If Stiles was honest with himself he would rather just leave with his father but he knew that this may actually be his only chance to get an education. A proper education was something Stiles only ever dreamed of obtaining. To have the chance at his fingers was making his nerves hum with excitement.

"I love you son," he clung to his father for as long as their last moments together would allow. "Love you too dad."

Stiles and Peter Hale watched as his father made his way through the snow. As his back retreated from him and the large door closed. Stiles felt himself falling into that black space he thought he'd never hideaway to again.

"Come, let me show you where you'll be staying Stiles," Peter lightly brushed his shoulder as he passed. They wandered through many rooms on the first floor, filled with dining tables, candles, and portraits galore. Stiles thought it strange that there wasn't much in the way of servants through the manor. Honestly he hadn't seen any since he'd arrived only hours earlier with his father but hadn't had the time to mull it over until now.

"Is there much of your family here as well Mr. Hale?" Peter paused on the stairwell.

"There are a few left, my nephew and his cousins, mostly your age I suppose. Most of my immediate family passed in a fire from the forest years ago," he continued making his way with Stiles following quietly behind, giving his silent condolences. The upstairs was even gloomier than the ground floor. Did no one live here? Ahead of him Peter stopped and glanced back at Stiles who had stopped to look at another grand staircase leading in two directions. "Those are the East and West wings. They were both heavily affected during the fire and are currently not to be explored. Your room is just this way," he urged Stiles onward.

They quickly arrived at a door and Stiles was ushered in by Peter, "Please try not to wander the halls at night, it's very hard to see and I'd like to keep any accidents from happening. Breakfast is always at 7 o'clock sharp. And Stiles," He leered, "call me Peter."

,,,

Stiles was very baffled by Peter, he really couldn't begin to understand the man that had just graciously accepted him into his home. He began his exploration of his room which turned into himself sitting on the bed staring in awe. He had never seen such a grand room in all his life. There was a desk, a bed, a mirror, and a wardrobe. The window wasn't just a window itself, there was a seat in front of it as well. Stiles could see that it was close to a full moon maybe two days away and the months were nearing the end of the year. A sound clicked on the other side of the room and Stiles stood. No that couldn't have been the- could it? He wandered to the door and turned the handle. He pushed, nothing happened.

"No," he breathed. "No! You can't lock me in here! NO!" His fist hit the door but he continued to struggle with the handle the door wouldn't even budge. Black was surrounding him there wasn't anywhere he could go. There wasn't any air in here and it was so hot, he pulled at his collar. Why couldn't they just let him out he just needed air! "Please, please…please" he begged his body sliding down the door, he was starting to sweat and his throat was dry. His hands shook against the floor and he realized his entire body was shaking. There was that damn screaming again! It was so loud. "STOP! JUST STOP IT!" he yelled his whole body caving on itself. His hands covered his ears slamming against them a few times, squeezing and pushing. Stop the damn screaming. Stop it Scott. Stop screaming! "Scott…please!" Nothing would make the noise go away and this time it sounded like it was with him, it wasn't an echo it was too close for that. Stiles opened his eyes again, when had he closed them? There were red and white dots dancing everywhere, Scott where was Scott? He gasped for air but there wasn't any, he was all alone.

AN: This is my first fanfiction in over 6 years and wow I worked on this for a really long time. I'd love to hear everyone's feedback! I know Derek wasn't in this chapter but he'll show up in the next one so please be patient with me! I'll be uploading these chapters on Tumblr as well for those of you who are interested, the link for my Tumblr is on my Profile.