Sorry guys for going so long without an update. I'm starting to struggle to keep this story going. Thanks to all the kind reviews they mean the world to me. But I have to ask you guys please leave a review on some ideas to keep this story going, what do you guy want to see happen.
Stiles stared up at the night sky. The rest of the pack were curled up in the cave behind him. But Stiles couldn't sleep. He missed his dad.
He also worried about Beacon Hills, what was going on? Were his friends and family in danger? He sighed and glance over at the beetle blade climbing up the tree next to him.
He fought the urge to scream and cry, he wanted out of this stupid maze. He didn't know why he was trapped here, why his friends were trapped here.
Stiles was only human, he wanted to help the pack, He was going to help the pack.
The walls of the maze toward over Stiles, dwarfing him. Stiles head whipped around looking in all directions.
This was a bad idea.
But here he was. In the maze. By himself.
He was sick of werewolves protecting him, he was human but he wasn't useless. Scott was his best friend in the whole world, and he would take a bullet for him. But just once Stiles wanted to save the day, he didn't want to be the sidekick. He wanted to be the hero, and he wanted to show the pack, that he was strong and could defend himself.
He didn't need protecting.
His footsteps seemed to loud. They echoed in every direction and seem to fill the maze. His breathing ragged as he looked in every direction trying to find the best way to go.
He had heard stories about the grievers. Big ugly monsters. He had heard the screams of those stung by one.
Thomas had told him that is was painful and terrifying. Another reason why he shouldn't attempt to scout the maze.
There was no point anymore. Even runners didn't go in the maze. They knew how to get out, but WICKED would just get them in. They didn't know the reason they were stuck here.
But Stiles wanted out. And he wanted out NOW.
So here he was, risking his life. So he could play hero and save the pack.
Stiles didn't know exactly what he was looking for. Newt had told him that the portal to get out of here was invisible.
Great.
So he wandered aimlessly around the maze. So when he turned right around the next corner, he saw the last thing he wanted
When Scott woke up and Stiles was missing, his heart skipped a beat. After finding the rest of the pack safe by his side, he calmed his breathing down.
The was a reasonable explanation, He would just be out in the Glade with everyone else.
Scott begun shaking the pack awake, he was met with groans and mumbles as the pack protested being woken up.
"Get up everyone, com' on let's get ready" Scott yelled pushing his pack.
Within 20 minutes the pack was making their way to the glade.
Scott looked around it confusion as he spotted no Stiles amongst the Gladers. With a frown, he scanned the glade and came up with no Stiles.
Spotting Thomas and Newt, Scott ran over there.
"Newt, Thomas, have you guys seen Stiles" Scott asked. He could feel the pressure low in his stomach.
Stiles was his best friend, and he cared for him a lot. He didn't know what he would do if Stiles went missing, or if he died. Scott had grown up with the hyper active teen for most of his life. He had been through the loss of Stiles mother, and the divorce of his own father.
Stiles had been with him the night he had been bitten, he had helped him control himself. Although Alison was his anchor, well, without Stiles Scott doubted that he would be able to control himself.
Stiles meant everything to him.
Thomas and Newt frowned at him "No…. I thought he was with you" Thomas said.
"Yeah" Scott breathed walking away and ignoring the shouts he heard from behind him.
He scanned the glade again. Where could Stiles have gone to, there weren't many places to hide around here.
His eyes landed on the large opening of the maze, and if possible his stomach sank lower.
The griever whipped around the minute Stiles gasped.
Its ugly face screeched in his direction, its sightless eyes looking in his direction. The sound of metal on concrete creating a horrible sound that made Stiles ears ring.
Deep inside Stiles knew he should be running right now, but his legs seemed frozen in place. His chest rising and falling rapidly. His ears stinging as the sound grew louder and the creature came closer.
It was disgusting hairless body slowly moving towards him. Finally, his brain seemed to register that fact that his life his in danger and he needs to move NOW.
So, Stiles ran, twisting around corners and running from the thing that only exists in nightmares.
The noise it made was horrifying and Stiles had to fight the urge to cover his ears from the horrendous sound.
His throat burned and his legs ached, but he kept running. He didn't know where to go. He wasn't fit enough to climb the vines and there really wasn't any place to hide in the maze. He knew the odds of his pack magically showing up to save him were low.
He understood now the reason his pack made him sit on the sidelines. They didn't think he was useless; he was far from it. Stiles was an amazing researcher and he did amazing things for the pack. But they didn't want him fighting the battles not because he was weak. But because they cared.
He didn't have special healing powers, or use a bow and arrow or a sword. Stiles was human, and mortal. The pack didn't want to lose him. They didn't want to lose their human.
When Stiles legs turned to jelly and he couldn't run anymore. He stopped. He turned around and faced the creature. His chest heavying, struggling for breath he yelled and screamed at the creature.
Take your best shot.
When the thing charged, Stiles didn't know how to brace himself. He knew he wasn't getting out of this alive. He could see the stinger, and the large claws that would be used to chop him up. Feed him to his friends.
Would his body be delivered to his dad-?
His dad.
He was going to die without his dad.
The one that had raised him because his mum had died. He was going to leave his dad behind in a world full of demons and werewolves and things that existed in the dark.
Scott was going to lead a pack without him. Without his sidekick.
The tear escaped without his permission. Running down his cheek as he started death in the face.
He wanted to scream sorry, he wanted to tell the pack he wasn't trying to kill himself. He wanted to prove that he wasn't useless, that he could save the day once.
But he just wanted to say sorry.
And then the thing was upon him.
And he felt the agony of sting in his neck.
He was sure he imagined it, but before he fell into the deep darkness that threated to pull him under and never let him up. He swore he heard his name.
"STILES!"
What do you think. Please review saying what you want to see next I'm really at a loss what to do.