Stiles was slowly waking up, regaining his consciousness. He was swaying his head to the left and to the right, trying to focus on his surroundings, to see where he was.
After a couple of minutes, his eyes finally adjusted, but it was still a little hard to see, as the place he was in, wasn't the brightest. He then tried to move, but he realized his hands were wide open, bound on the wall behind him, but he could still move his legs freely.
He looked around and realized he was in an oddly arranged grey room, as he was surrounded by beige thick walls. Across the room was placed a heavy steel door and onto his right side, there was an old bleached metal table.
Also, from the left corner of his eye, he could see that from the ceiling, a small amount of water was dripping down from the broken in half pipes, onto the hard cold floor.
Although the room looked quite aged and shabby, surprisingly the lights were still on, but not managing to light up the place completely and there were actually no windows.
"What the hell is this place!?" Stiles yelled at no one in particular, as he seemed to be all alone down there.
He then sighed, frustrated over the fact that he was kidnapped yet again. He started shaking his hands, trying to unbind himself but it was all in vain, as there wasn't any possibility that he could escape from the chains that he was bound onto.
Suddenly, he could hear the faint echo of footsteps and it was coming closer and closer as the seconds passed. Stiles turned his head straight ahead, where the sound was coming from.
The door across the room opened and then a man appeared, standing there on the doorway, as he stared directly at Stiles.
"Um…hi?" Stiles managed to say awkwardly, as he looked carefully at the person that was now walking towards him.
The said person stopped right in front of Stiles' feet and continued to look down on him, without making any further noise but just the sound of his heavy breathing. Stiles inspected closely him from head to toe.
The man seemed to be wearing an old ragged, grey with light green stripes, military uniform. His boots were muddy, half of them were torn apart and he also wore black gloves, with some holes here and there.
Stiles' gaze fell onto the man's chest, were there was a sign, but half of it was ripped off so he couldn't figure out what it was symbolized for.
But the one thing that intrigued Stiles most was the gas mask that was covering his mouth. He also noticed that the man was bold, his skin was wrinkled and he had some dents on his head that looked like as if he was burned.
"Stiles Stilinski…I have been waiting for a long time to finally meet you." The man's voice came out sounding rough and harsh, like the result from a sore throat or from shouting too much.
"How you doin' Larry? It has been a long time since I last saw you, hasn't it?" Stiles chuckled under his breath, as he decided to use sarcasm to avoid the intense mood that was starting to rise in the room.
"I would prefer if you ceased with your sarcastic responses, Stiles." The man named temporally as 'Larry' said with a low tone. Stiles kept looking at him the whole time and neither of them said anything as 5 minutes of silence passed by. Then finally Stiles grew frustrated over the silence and decided to break it.
"So, who are you really?" Stiles had taken a serious expression on his face, his voice even, as he tried to hide the hints of anxiety and distraught he felt, as a drop of sweat rolled down its way from his forehead to his chin.
"What business do you have with us and what do you plan on achieving by kidnapping me?" Stiles glanced up to his face and stared into the man's eyes, trying to find any kind of emotion hidden behind them, to take it into his advantage but found none of it.
The only expression that Stiles could see was his void and lifeless expression on the man's face, as a strange aura of mystery and coldness was surrounding him.
"Do not fear, I don't intend on hurting you or your companions severely," The man with the mask sat still and surprisingly composed, unlike Stiles, who was now starting to be a little twitchy and too aware of his surroundings.
"What business do I have with you, you ask…well, that, I guess you'll find out soon enough." The man now turned around and slowly started walking towards the door where he first came from.
"Hey wait!" Stiles yelled out to him as he now glared at his back. The man with the mask halted in his steps and looked over his shoulders, glancing at Stiles.
"If you ever go near any of my friends or even hurt them, I'll…I'll…" Stiles hung his head low, trailing off.
"You'll do what, Stiles?" He turned, now full of his attention on Stiles as he took a few steps towards him.
"I'll kill you with my own hands even if I have to." Stiles said in a whisper, his voice had taken a dangerous tone and as he raised his head, his eyes darkened and full with pure anger, as he looked directly at the other man's eyes.
"Interesting…" The man's eyes had a hint of amusement in them and curiosity as he continued to look over at Stiles' determined face.
"Until next time…Mr. Mieczyslaw." He then turned around and proceeded on his path, walking out of the room and closing the door behind him.
Stiles gasped, his eyes wide, clearly caught off guard at the last word that came out from the man's mouth. The expression of fear and helplessness overtook him and now all he could do was stare at the door, dumbfounded.
