Chapter One: Mondays are Hell

Stiles was seriously starting to think Garfield was onto something with the whole Monday hating thing. Mondays sucked.

Really, really sucked and this one in particular.

Firstly, Stiles' had pulled an all-nighter- working his Google magic for a particular cranky Sour Wolf ™. Looking up things and researching so that the whole Alpha-Pack bamboozle never happened again. That had been one particular nightmare no-one wanted to revisit.

So he was running pretty low on steam by the time he had to get up for school. And then, because he was so tired he forgot his Adderall AND his morning cup of coffee- which on a good day he could not go without. It was like Edward Cullen without his glitter glue- not good.

And guess what else? He got up late, making him 5 minutes late for home group…which means late detention with Harris- yep. Mondays are awesome.

So of course the day could only get worse. Fuck his entire life.

He was just on his way over to his jeep parked in the school parking lot. It was freaking SUNSET! Harris, who Stiles was getting more and more sure was in fact, the antichrist, had decided, since Stiles' father, the Sheriff, had interrogated him last year, he was going to make Stiles his 'personal project' and every detention Stiles got- he got kept in WAY past an hour, the usual detention period. His life was so unfair.

Stiles' was just pulling the keys out of his baggy jeans, when he heard a faint scuttling sound and saw shadow move quickly past in the corner of his eye.

He whipped around, immediately on guard.

"Hello?" He called, squinting his eyes in the dim light provided by the school's lampposts and the setting sun. He couldn't see anyone.

It must have been his overactive imagination, he figured. He had forgotten to take his pills after all. Not to mention the fact that having a best friend as a werewolf sort of gave one an over sense of hyper vigilance. He just needed to calm down, go home, and curse about Harris to Scott on the phone whilst eating copious amounts of curly-fries. Yeah.

But when Stiles turned back to the car, shaking his head at his stupidity and self-consciousness- he only had a split second top notice the looming figure raising a hand in the reflection of his window, before he felt a sharp pain to the back of his head and the world turned black...

(I know it's kinda short, but it's just an intro...the other chapters will be longer.)