Here's Chapter 3 of Stiles' Worst Day Ever. I do not own Teen Wolf. Enjoy!
'Even if I had his scent, there's nothing here!' Scott said angrily. The full moon was only adding to his anger. Malia, however, looked on the verge of ripping someone's face off.
'What do we do then?' she growled.
The Sheriff spoke up. 'We hope that the kidnappers will contact us again. Let's go to the station to see if we can get a trace.'
Stiles wasn't sure how much time had passed but what he did know is that he couldn't feel his hands or feet. He moved them but it only caused painful prickles to shoot through them. His jaw ached from his teeth chattering so much. It was a good sign though, it meant that hypothermia hadn't set in yet. Stiffly, Stiles moved his legs up and down and rotated his shoulders. He needed to keep the feeling in his joints.
The door opened and the teen looked up. Alexandra, one of her sons, and a younger girl entered. The son had a bucket in his hands. Stiles really hoped it wasn't more cold water. He wasn't sure he could take that. Alexandra walked straight to him with the girl following.
'Where does Scott McCall's pack meet?' she asked getting to the point. Stiles just looked away from her. He was still shivering. 'Dmitry, bring the bucket.'
Dmitry complied and proceeded to dump the bucket over Stiles. It wasn't cold water as Stiles had thought it would be. It was boiling. Or at least that's how it felt to Stiles' cold skin. He cried out in pain and involuntarily thrashed.
'If you thought that was bad, then I will break you sooner than I expected. Dmitry, get Mr Stilinski better situated.' The large man put the bucket down and pulled out the same knife that was used to test him. He cut the zip ties, not caring if he also cut Stiles. He picked the boy up by the front of his shirt. This T shirt would never be wrinkle free again.
'H-hey!' Stiles stammered. 'Let me go!' He squirmed around trying to get free.
'Grigory,' Dmitry called out. 'Come and help me. This one's squirmy.' Another man came in and Dmitry pulled Stiles to the wall that was behind the chair. Stiles saw chains bolted to it and inwardly cringed. If he thought the zip ties hurt, this was going to be so much worse. He was pushed against the wall and held there. Dmitry caught one of Stiles' flailing arms and reached up to a set of shackles. Stiles fought as hard as he could but the two men were much stronger and very skilled in what they did. The teen soon found himself chained to the wall with his arms stretched out and above his head.
Grigory then dent down to shackle his ankles as well but Stiles decided to do something incredibly stupid. He reached up to the chains to pull himself up and kicked out as hard as he could. Stiles caught Grigory right in the head. The man grunted in pain and toppled over. Dmitry, however, was on him in an instant and punched Stiles square in the solar plexus. All of the air left his lungs. While Stiles couldn't breathe, Dmitry shackled his ankles to the wall, and then went to his brother's side.
'You'll pay for that,' Alexandra spat out. 'Victoriya, handle him.'
Oxygen finally reached Stiles' lungs and he dared to look up. Grigory was holding his head and being walked out by Dmitry. Stiles felt an ounce of pride knowing he did that. Alexandra and the girl were nowhere to be seen. This made Stiles a little nervous. What were they doing? His nerves only increased when Victoriya, he assumed, appeared before him. In one hand were a pair of scissors and in the other was a wicked looking whip with barbs. Her dark eyes held a predatory stare as she stalked toward him. Like her mother, Victoriya had dark hair but her eyes were so dark that Stiles felt he could get lost in them.
Stiles swallowed hard as Victoriya lifted his shirt. He felt the cold metal of the scissors touch his stomach and trail slowly up his chest as she cut his shirt. Well now this T-shirt was truly history. He lifted his chin to avoid the scissors cutting him. Victoriya grinned as she exposed his smooth stomach and chest. Goosebumps started appearing across his skin as he shivered.
'Oh, are you cold?' Victoriya said, speaking for the first time. Her voice was surprisingly soft. 'I will warm you up.'
Victoriya took a step back and gripped the handle of the whip tightly. With a grin she sent the whip out and into Stiles' chest. Stiles couldn't stop the scream as the leather stung and the barbs tore through his flesh. He had never felt such pain before. Then it came again, and again, and again. The boy cried out with each lashing. Victoriya laughed. She used that handle of the whip to lift Stiles' chin. Tears were streaming down his cheeks.
'Are you warmed up now?' she asked in a falsely sweet voice. 'Where does Scott McCall's pack meet?' Stiles just squirmed uncomfortably and said nothing. Victoriya let his head drop and took a step back.
'Why are you protecting them? You're human. You have absolutely nothing supernatural about you!'
Stiles did not need the reminder. 'Scott is like my brother and I would rather die the most gruesome and terrible death than let you even lay a finger on him,' he said with such venom in his voice.
'Well, there's a problem with that,' Victoriya said with a smile. 'We know where McCall lives. We could go and get him anytime we want.'
'Then why do you need me?'
'We don't know who else is in his pack. An Alpha's bond to his pack is too strong to give them up. Especially a True Alpha. That's why we have you. Humans are so much easier to break. Even if you run wolves.'
'I won't tell you anything,' Stiles said with his face full of determination.
Victoriya scoffed. 'You'll break eventually.'
The sound of Stiles' phone chimed in the silence. 'I've got something,' Parish said. The group had gone to the sheriff's station and filled in the Deputy about the situation. The Sheriff looked up from his screen. 'A text just came in and I got where it came from.' Everyone gathered around Parish.
'Where is he?' Stilinski asked.
'The middle of nowhere, sir.'
'What did the text say?' Scott asked.
Parish hesitated. 'It's a video.' He opened the text and turned Stiles' phone so they all could see it.
When the video loaded it showed Stiles chained to a wall somewhere. His shirt was cut opened and his chest and stomach were covered in cuts and welts. He appeared to be unconscious. This did not last long as a bucket of water was dumped over him. When he lifted his head the pack saw a large cut across his check that overlapped the first. The same woman from the picture came into view. She held a knife.
'Scott McCall, I know you and your pack are watching this. My name is Alexandra Borzoi,' she said. 'I want you to turn yourself over to me, along with your pack.'
'Scott don't-!' Stiles was cut off when Alexandra grabbed his chin roughly.
Alexandra looked back at the camera while still holding the teen's chin. With her other hand, the one holding the knife, she stroked his damaged cheek. Stiles cringed.
'You've trained this one well. He won't give any of your pack up. Now, you can meet my demands,' she continued. 'Or I can continue to mare this cute little face until its unrecognisable and dump his body for you to find.'
'Scott please don't come!' Stiles yelled trying to pull away. There was a glint of silver, followed by a cry of pain. Stiles head hung but they could tell he was still awake from the quiet sobs that could be heard. They could see blood dripping onto the floor.
'You have 24 hours.' Then the video went dark.
The pack was silent. Scott was in utter shock. His best friend was being tortured because of his loyalty. The Sheriff was distraught. His son was the only thing he had left. Kira was visibly upset as she clung to Scott's arm. Lydia had silent tears streaming down her face. She and the loveable goof had grown to be such close friends. Parish looked very shaken. He hadn't know the teen that long but he saw how good the boy's heart was. And Malia; Malia looked ready to kill someone. She loved Stiles. She had never loved anyone like this before and she didn't want to lose him.
And there you have it. Please review!