It was raining, as it always seemed to be. The sun had long since abandoned the human race, it seemed unwilling to confront the fact that the humans had irrecoverably lost to a forgotten enemy, the Fae. They had attacked half a decade ago, fiercely and with enthusiasm. They didn't seem to want anything apart from what seemed to be the thrill of the hunt and the kill. Humans, once the top of the food chain, found themselves the prey to a predator they did not fully comprehend. All that was known about the Enemy was that iron seemed to be their only weakness. It was a shame that the army hadn't known that before ⅘ths of the entire world population had been exterminated. Now there was no great army that was able to fight off the Enemy. Instead, the ideals of battle and honour were forgotten and survival was all that mattered.
In the broken ruins of what had once been a great city were two figures, two small children who were studying each other with great concentration. The smaller of the pair, a pale mole covered boy with a buzz cut and amber-brown eyes wearing a red hoody two sizes too big was the first to speak.
"You Scott?" he asked, the tone of his voice suggested that he already knew the answer to his query. The second boy, with his tanned skin and seemingly black eyes, was more cautious, more weary so merely answered with a nod of his head. Scott held in his hand an iron knife that his father had given to him before he died. In the era they lived in, it never hurt to be too careful.
"Who are you? And how do you know my name? "
"Your mum sent me."
Scott, who had been worrying about his mother due to her unusually long absence forgot all about learning the name of the stranger and instead jumped at the chance to ask how and where she was. The paler of the pair looked at the boy dressed in the dusty black clothes with great sadness. Scott, confronted by this obvious pain in the boy's eyes, understood, yet was unwilling to admit to himself what had happened to his mother. The child in red then said
"Scott, your mum, she… She didn't make it. I found her as she was… Going."
"No, NO! You're lying, you have to be. She can't be dead! She's NOT dead. Why would you say something like that. Go away, you liar." As Scott shouted this, tears started to develop but before they were able to flow freely down the eight year old's face, the boy wiped his eyes and glared as menacingly as he could at the other boy. The recipient of the glare was unfazed by Scott's anger and merely answered by quietly saying
"Beacon Hill's nurse"
Although this phrase seemed ridiculous , it was a code that Scott's mum had taught him to mean that the person who said it was trust worthy. It meant that what the other boy said was true , his mum was gone. She was never coming back. She was dead, killed by some twisted fairy look a likes. As these thoughts crossed his mind, Scott began to panic, he couldn't breath, the air wouldn't reach his lungs, and in a way Scott was grateful, maybe he would black out and when he woke up, everything would be fine again. His mum would be there next to him telling him everything would be alright. But before darkness took over, the other boy put his arms around Scott's shoulders and told him that everything would be okay, that he would take care Scott now. Strangely this calmed him down, and instead of choking, he cried. Tears rolled continuously down his cheeks as he clung as tightly as he could to the stranger. "I'm Stiles, and we're brothers now. I won't let anyone hurt you, I promise."