A/N: New fic! Hello! This is a Teen Wolf horror mindfuck fic. And there may be character death, not sure. But definitely character abuse.

Chapter One: Not Your House


Derek lead the way as Scott, Allison, Lydia, Stiles and Isaac followed. They were all uneasy and unhappy about going to an abandoned house in the first place. But as they walked closer and closer to their destination, the air was heavier, and harder to breathe in. And the forest grew more and more silent and eerie. Nothing seemed right.

Derek stopped the group as they stared up at the ancient home. It was rickety and falling apart, wooden boards hanging and rotten with water damage and old age. It seemed as if the house was once painted a pale, washed out blue, but it had faded to a dull, hateful brown of the dying wood of which it was built.

Derek faced the group, holding his arms out as if he was presenting it. "Tada." he mumbled sarcastically, before turning back to the face the house. He strode up to the front door and glared at it.

Scott looked to Stiles, who was at his left. Both boys were shocked.

"Woah, woah! Derek, wait up!" Scott called. Derek stopped, turning back to him. He shook his head, silently asking 'what' with irritated body language. Scott rolled his eyes. "Dude. This place, is haunted! We don't just rush into haunted houses!"

Stiles nodded vigorously. "Trust me. All the movies, they prove it...just think about it. Grudge? Walked into the house. Boogeyman? Walked into the house! And they ended up in deep shit."

Derek gave Stiles a glare, and Stiles instantly shut up, fidgeting uneasily. Scott took his position. "Derek, this isn't a good idea. We don't know what's in there. And why are we doing this anyway?"

Derek folded his arms across his chest, tapping his foot against the rotten boards. "We're going. You can stay here, but I don't think you will. And besides, think about it Scott. We're werewolves. What could harm us?"

Stiles choked out a laugh. "Lots. Derek. Lots. And another question to consider. Not all of us are super powered puppies. What am I supposed to do? Or Allison? Lydia?" Derek walked back to the group, straight up to Stiles. "Then go home with your tail between your legs, Stilinski. I'm going in."

Without another word, he boldly walked up to the door and kicked it in, knocking it off it's orange rusted hinges. Scott rushed forward, followed by Isaac. Stiles shrugged, and followed. The girls glanced at each other and were right behind him.

Derek pointed to the door.

"Think of this as a security measure. In all the horror movies, the door somehow magically locks on it's own, right? Well now it can't...because it's on the freaking floor."

He walked in and the rest followed.

Lydia froze in the doorway. Her hands were shaking, her eyes tracing over the dark outlines of walls in the empty house. She shook her head slightly, backing up only a few inches. "I don't like this..." she whispered. Stiles looked to Scott.

"What do you mean?" Allison asked, taking her hand. Lydia licked her lips, but then bit down hard on her bottom one. "I just...have the worst feeling about this place. Something's wrong here. Something bad's gonna happen. I can just...feel it."

Allison nodded, then looked to Scott and Stiles. "She said that about the hotel we stayed at. She isn't wrong. She never is."

Stiles blinked. "Yeah. Definitely since we were all going to be barbecue at that last part." Scott looked at him like he was crazy, but Stiles just shrugged it off. "All I'm saying is that we should listen to her. Derek?"

Everyone turned around to Derek.

Only Derek wasn't there. Isaac's jaw dropped. "Where'd he go?" he asked. Lydia backed up a few more steps until she hit the wall.

...wall?...

She spun around, coming face to face with a wall...right where the door was. She pulled on Allison's sleeve, and she caught the boy's attention. Scott and Isaac rammed against it, but the wood wouldn't break. Even though it looked almost two hundred years old...at least!

Stiles also noted the windows were gone. All exits, vanished. Nothing left of them. Scott cursed, slamming his fist into the wall one last time before pushing off, fuming with anger. He soon cooled down, and faced his pack. "We all stick together. No wandering off. We'll get out of here. Even if we have to dig our way out."

Everyone nodded in agreement, and they cautiously and anxiously walked towards the spiraling staircase. One step at a time, they made their way to the top floor. And they all kept their single file, with Scott in the front, then Allison, Isaac, Lydia, and Stiles in the back, turning to see if anything changed on their way.

The fifth and final floor was like a small room, no doors leading to other rooms...or exits. Scott looked up at the ceiling, which wasn't an actual ceiling. It was the roof, slanted up to a point in the center of the room.

"Isaac, give me a hand."

Isaac came over, and the boys began to claw and punch at the rooftop. It wouldn't shatter, it didn't collapse in. It was like it was made of steel.

"No use." Isaac stated the obvious. Lydia was now beginning to freak out, pacing back and forth with a fast pace. "I told all of you! I said it! I did!" she whimpered, trying to keep back tears. But she suddenly stopped dead, even her breath stopped.

The whole room grew still as she looked down the spiral staircase which they just climbed. Her head cocked to the left, before she broke into a run down the stairs. Without thinking, Stiles screamed her name and followed after. Allison looked to Isaac and Scott.

"F-Follow them!" he ordered, and Isaac and Allison ran after them. Scott was right behind them. They climbed all the way down to the first floor. But nothing. Nobody. They called their names, but there were no responses.

Allison tangled her hands in her hair, trying to stay calm for the sake of the sanity of her group. "We...we gotta go back upstairs. We missed something. They can't just vanish."

Scott and Isaac agreed, and the three began to walk, or more like run, up the stairs. The only problem was that there were no longer five floors, but only two. Ground and second. No basement, no fifth.

Isaac was showing visible signs of stress. He was sweating, his fists clenching and unclenching, and he was fidgeting and fighting the urge to scream. It was up to Scott to keep the group sane and calm.

Or at least what was left of the group.


A/N: Ooooh! Cliffy! So, tell me what you think?