It was already dark when Stiles left Scott's place. He had completely forgotten about his Jeep being broken, meaning he had to walk home, so he hadn't even thought that leaving a bit earlier could be a good idea. It wasn't a long walk, but it still was a walk. He slipped his phone into his pocket with a sigh after informing his dad about leaving Scott's. He hadn't even bothered to ask for a ride after getting a laugh and a 'not my fault your car's broken' as an answer the other night.

The night was a bit chilly after an extremely hot day, but he could still easily walk with just a t-shirt on, his flannel tied around his waist. He was almost sweating from only walking, so it was quite strange to realize he was constantly shivering from cold. He could see his breath with every exhale.

A quiet rustle came from behind, and Stiles quickly turned on his heels to see where it came from. He stared into the dark night, blinking in confusion, trying to see what could've caused the noise. After a long moment of looking around, he finally decided it had been nothing; just the wind or some animal in the bushes.

He was almost praying for it to really be only his imagination doing him tricks; they had just survived from a crazy weekend of partying, and he was exhausted. It had been extremely hard for him because apparently, werewolves couldn't get drunk, and they hadn't known it before the weekend. So, they had ended up downing more alcohol with Scott than all the other teens had downed altogether, which had, of course, left Stiles with a killer hangover and Scott with nothing.

But Stiles heard the voice again and turned on his heels as quick as he could. This time he managed to see a dark silhouette just before it disappeared behind the trees. With a sharp breath, Stiles took a step back, his eyes wildly scanning the scene.

"It's nothing, Stiles," he mumbled to himself with a not so convincing voice. But before he even had the chance to turn around again, he saw the silhouette again. "Well," he took another few steps back, "maybe it's something."

With shaking hands Stiles dug out his phone and dialed Scott's number, his fingers already stiff from cold. As he raised the phone to his ear, he rapidly turned on his heels to continue his way home; he needed to get out of there as fast as possible.

When he got no answer from Scott, Stiles lowered his phone to end the call so he could dial again. "Please answer," he muttered to his phone, "I know you're probably doing something fun with Allison, but this is kinda important!"

When he raised his phone to his ear again, he heard nothing. The device in his hand was dead silent. With a confused frown, Stiles lowered the phone again. It seemed normal, but for some reason, he was unable to call Scott again. And from all the things he had lived through by now, it couldn't mean anything good when a phone suddenly stopped working.

Heavy steps came from behind, making Stiles walk faster. He glanced over his shoulder to see who, or what, it was coming after him. Seeing absolutely nothing managed to only make him feel uneasier and more anxious.

All he could think of, was why him? Of all the supernatural creatures and hunters, he had to be the one to get into a situation like this. It wasn't fair, and no matter how he thought about it, he couldn't understand how it was even possible. Because it was always him, not Scott, or Allison, or anyone else who was able to actually defend themselves; it was always him.

Once again, Stiles called Scott, only this time everything went even more wrong. As he pressed call, his phone's screen turned white, and right after that, it went black. A desperate "no" escaped Stiles' lips as he stared at the device in his hand. If it hadn't been useless before, it definitely was now.

The rustling behind him had gotten closer, and the closer it got, the faster Stiles' steps turned. Soon, he didn't know if he could run any faster; he was already so out of breath, his lungs hurt and his legs had turned numb. By now, the only thing that kept him going was the adrenaline flowing through his body.

Stiles had to use all the energy he had left to use from running, to keep himself up. The rugged forest with all its roots and brickbats was trying to grab his ankles and make him fall down. A shadow flew right in front of Stiles, forcing him to stop like he had reached an invisible border he couldn't cross.

The sudden stop caused him to lose his balance, and in a blink of an eye, Stiles found himself coughing on the cold, hard ground. As fast as he could, he pushed himself up again. He tried to focus on his hearing, tried to scan his surroundings as carefully as he could to find the silhouette again.

"Who are you?" he asked loudly, trying to hide the fear in his voice. He knew it was probably a mistake to speak in the first place, but it was kind of the only thing he came up with other than running. "Hello?" He slowly took a few steps back. "Could you leave me alone? I have werewolf friends, so you definitely should."

But the silhouette, whatever it was, did not leave him alone. Instead, it appeared behind him, shoving him face first on the ground again. As he laid on the ground, Stiles could hear footsteps slowly approach him. It didn't make sense. He had just been pushed, the one approaching him right now had been standing behind him just seconds ago.

A cold hand firmly grabbed him by his shoulder, forced him to turn around, and before Stiles' had the chance to see who it was, something hard hit his head and the whole world went black.

The next time Stiles opened his eyes, his head was pounding and his legs hurt so much he felt like crying. It didn't take him long to realize he was bind to a wooden chair in a cold room he didn't recognize. There was a little window on the opposite wall, but it had been nailed shut.

With no success, Stiles tried to break his hands free from the armrests. His wrists felt like they were on fire as the thick rope abraded against his skin as he desperately kept fighting to free himself.

Sudden footsteps echoing behind him glance over his shoulder. "Hello?!" It probably wasn't a good idea to speak or keep any noises at all, but he couldn't help himself. "Is anybody there?"

A quiet, cheerful humming came from behind as the footsteps approached. Stiles wasn't sure if he wanted an answer or not. Cold fingertips were gently landed against Stiles' neck, and the long fingers slowly slid into his hair, sending shivers all over his body.

"Nobody's going to find you here," a quiet voice told him as the ice cold fingers swirled his hair around and tugged gently.

"I'm lucky to have a friend with such a good nose, then," Stiles said nervously, trying to hide his fear in a short laugh.

"Oh, no no no," the voice laughed with him. The fingers slowly moved from his hair to his cheek. "Nobody is going to find you." With a serious look on his face, a man stepped forward from behind Stiles, his fingers still gently on his cheek.

As he withdrew his hand from Stiles' skin, he pulled a pair of huge, metallic pliers out of his jeans' back pocket.

"Wha-" Stiles could feel his heart beating like there was no tomorrow, and his arms tried to break free before he had the time to even think about trying to do so. "You having car trouble, buddy?" he asked with a shaky voice. "I mean, I- I can help you if you just take these ropes off."

The man slowly came closer, and no matter how hard Stiles pulled his arms or tried to kick with his legs, the ropes wouldn't snap or even loosen around his wrists and ankles. He knew screaming Scott wouldn't save him, he wouldn't probably even hear him, but doing so still felt extremely tempting.

"What are you gonna do?" Stiles heard himself whisper as the man came so close he could feel his slow breaths on his face.

With no answer, the man simply smiled before he grabbed Stiles' jaw and forced him to open his mouth. With his mind completely blank and body frozen with fear, Stiles couldn't but stare in silence and hope for the best as the man brought the pliers to his open mouth.

The man tightened his grip of Stiles to keep his head still, and leaned a little closer to whisper with a smile: "This is gonna sting a little."