Thursday morning Derek went to Jackson's house. He had never shown up back at Derek's Wednesday night and the Porsche was still parked in the front driveway. Derek was worried, the past two days had been unbearably tense between Jackson and him, and he didn't know what Jackson was thinking, what he was feeling. Derek knew that Tuesday night he had made a mistake, he should have told Jackson, but…he need to keep it a secret…for now…until after the full moon, till then he would just have to continue deflecting.
Jackson's house was empty, no sign that anyone had been there. Derek knew he shouldn't have let his pup out of his sights. Scott and Lydia were fucking useless, he gave them one job, keep Jackson in your sight, and they fucked it up.
Derek waited outside the school in his car. When he saw Scott and his two humans he gunned his car and cut them off before they could reach Stiles' jeep. He rolled down the window and asked them one question, "Where's Jackson…?"
Scott looked at his two humans before replying, "He never came to school. We assumed you were with him…"
Derek was really worried now, he assumed that Jackson was just angry again and was being a brat, but now… He suddenly looked at Allison, stared at her, made her sweat, before gunning his car out of the school parking lot. He would kill fucking Chris Argent.
"Scott," Stiles knew exactly where Derek was headed, "Derek's going to kill Allison's dad if we don't get there first."
The three ran to Stiles' jeep and piled in as Stiles quickly burned out of the school parking lot. They sped through town, as Allison bounced in her seat and clutched onto Scott's hand. Derek had given Allison a look of complete vehement anger that made her shiver from head to toe and scared her more than she even thought humanly possible. She tried calling her dad but the call never went through, it went straight to voice mail.
Finally, they reached Allison's house, Stiles pulled his jeep up the driveway and left his jeep at the front door. There was Derek's car, pulled up over the side walk and left on the lawn. The front door was torn off its hinges and splintered into pieces. The three teens walked into Allison's house slowly and quietly. Allison pulled out her compact crossbow and loaded an arrow. Together they walked deeper into the house and could see the path of destruction Derek must have taken. There were giant claw marks on the wall and pieces of furniture that had been smashed into kindling. From a room far off they could hear a quite tinkling. The group made their way into the back of the house slowly and methodically. They could hear a voice?...Voices?...Past a door. Allison took a deep breath and kicked the door open and pointed her crossbow in front of her.
At the table was her mom and dad sitting comfortably with Derek, they were drinking coffee.
"Allison for god's sake put that thing away and go wash up. Also, take your little friends with you," said Allison's mom before offering Derek a slice of coffee cake. Allison just stood there dumbfounded before Scott pulled her out of the kitchen and all the way up into her room. The three sat for a while, awkwardly, before finally making their way back into the kitchen.
Allison's parents were standing up and her father shook Derek's hand with his unbroken one and together they saw Derek out of the house. Allison's mom then convinced, scared, both Scott and Stiles into helping them clean the house. As they cleaned, Allison's father told them that Jackson had been missing since last night, not much time, and Derek couldn't seem to find him. But, Derek convinced Chris Argent into looking for him tomorrow before getting the police involved the day after that. They were all expected to help with the search.
There was the quite dank smell of stale air and wet cement. The sound of low reverberating humming and small drips of water was all that could be heard. Jackson's arms were tied above his head, pulled painfully tight until he was almost hanging. The tips of his bare toes were all that touched the floor. His arms burned, horribly, and Jackson could barely stay conscious. He was aware of the fact that his leg, the one he thought was torn to shreds, had healed between the time he was knocked out, till now. The cold air chilled his naked flesh. He couldn't see, something was tied around his head and blocked out all light. All he could do was hear and all he heard was the low humming of…something, smelled the moldy air of the space around him. He hung there in pain trying hard to stay conscious before he felt himself fading, blacking out.
When he came to he felt slightly better, his accelerated healing must have kicked in. He waited and listened and after what felt like hours he heard the slowly rhythmic slap of footsteps. He waited as the steps came closer and closer. Jackson felt his heart began to race, felt sweat break out over his body. The steps stopped and Jackson heard the slow loud scarp of a door being pushed open. Jackson realized he was panting, breathing hard, he was terrified in a way he had never felt. Some…thing stepped into the room, stood right in front of Jackson, who just shivered trying hard to remain brave when all he wanted to do was run. The thing in front of him didn't smell human…
Jackson never expected to get punched in the stomach. A hard fast jab which knocked the air out of his body, leaving him gasping, mouth gaping, opening and closing in a futile attempt to draw in air. He was punched again and again, felt his flesh bruising, harder and harder the hits landed, and it didn't end until Jackson coughed up blood, spewed it out from somewhere deep inside him. Jackson could hear someone laughing, though he was too preoccupied with the pain in his gut, the ringing in his ears, and the sharp rusty taste of blood. Jackson's face was slapped hard, bringing him sharply back into awareness.
"Now, now," drawled someone in a deep voice, "we've just started to play." The person began another series of blows onto his torso. The blows had him swinging on the sharp rope his arms were tied to, his feet swung beneath him. Jackson just held on as best he could, tried hard to fight through the pain, he gritted his teeth and clenched his hands, but when he felt his organs rupture he could no longer hold in the screams that ripped out his throat. He passed out soon after.
Jackson awoke with the taste of blood in his mouth and the worst ache in his stomach. He was trembling now from fear and pain, he couldn't control the tears that had spilled out of his eyes during the savage beating, and he couldn't control them now either. He waited and healed and tried hard to not give into the building dread that made him want to yell until his throat was raw, but he knew it would be futile, no one would hear him. Again, he heard those footsteps slapping against the cement and again his being was filled with terror, now multiplied with the memory of pain still fresh in his head.
The person entered the room and Jackson listened. He heard noises but didn't understand what they were or what they meant. He felt the person walk up to him and Jackson prepared himself for another beating. Instead, he felt something freezing cold and thin press against his skin, the chill made him shiver. The thing scrapped a slow, sharp, chilling line down his chest all the way down to the thick bush of his pubes. The person brought the object back up to Jackson's clavicle and sunk the sharp point of his knife down to the bone. He then slowly slid the knife down Jackson body and watched as the thin red lines oozed with blood. He sliced and sliced at Jackson flesh and when he grew bored of that he stabbed the knife deep into Jackson's body and twisted it until Jackson screamed. The person loved that sound.
Jackson didn't think he could take much more, the pain and fear were too much. The person would come and go, every few hours, and each time he would do something new and terrifying and Jackson couldn't take it anymore. Jackson knew that not much time had passed since he had been here, he thought maybe a day or two…He knew because, as badly as he'd wanted to, he hadn't passed out, not after the first time, no matter how much he sometimes wished he would.
He didn't want to, didn't want to lie to himself, but he closed his eyes and wished and hoped with all his might that Derek would save him…but he knew he would die here…alone…and no one would ever know…or care…no one cared…
Friday morning Scott trudged through the cold forest. The sky was overcast and a cold wind pushed over the high mountain and into Beacon Hills. He walked slowly and sniffed the air but didn't smell Jackson. Scott thought the whole thing was a waste of time, but Derek wouldn't budge. Stiles walked next to him looking at the ground, scanning it for anything that might be a hint to Jackson's whereabouts, but nothing crossed their path.
Around noon Lydia called them all to the school, she'd found something. Stiles drove and Scott hung his head out the passenger window. They parked somewhere near the forest in front of the school where everyone else had grouped and followed Lydia into the woods. She led them to a clearing and then to a dead tree trunk. Underneath it was Jackson's stuff, his backpack, clothes, and shoes.
"Does this…does this mean something," Stiles was worried, had someone taken Jackson and…undressed him. Stiles wasn't scared before, but he was scared now.
"I don't think so…" Derek was pretty sure Jackson had done this himself. A kidnapper wouldn't have left the clothes neatly folded like that. Derek had been neglecting the fact that Jackson also needed his attention, needed to go running every few days, maybe he decided to go during the day…that didn't make sense. Had his wolf grown too restless? Derek wasn't sure, but at least now they had a path to follow.
The path went for miles around the town, staid close to the line of trees, enough to see the streets, but not enough to be seen. The path abruptly ended in the heavily industrial area of the town. They tried following the path but didn't get too far, they completely lost track of it. Derek had a horrible feeling of what could have happened, why Jackson was missing, and hoped that he was wrong. Derek sent the teens out to specific locations. He didn't want them getting near his warehouse…not yet.
Stiles picked up the path two hours later, he stumbled across it when he couldn't find a bathroom and decided to piss in the woods, he saw the claw marks in the trees, the ratty remains of clothes torn to shreds. The group converged on the location and moved down the path, deep into the woods. They traveled through a path of pure brutality, trees had been clawed and gouged until they barely stood.
"Ahhh," sighed Stiles and pointed to the carcass of a small rabbit. The further they went the more they came across the mangled corpses of different woodland animals. The group became more and more apprehensive, they didn't want to run into Jackson if he was still killing things indiscriminately. Chris holstered his tranc gun and unstrapped his assault rifle from his back, Derek didn't protest, they might need the protection. What made the group stop was finding the ravaged corpse of the cougar which was horrifying to see up close, it hadn't had time to rot. Lydia and Scott had never killed anything, they wondered how Jackson did it so easily. How could he take down such a dangerous creature alone. They walked further on and Chris stopped them near a clearing, he informed them that from that point on there would be traps he set himself, and it would be best to leave Stiles and Allison behind with one of the wolfs for protection. Derek agreed and ordered Lydia to stay.
Chris navigated the way through the woods, sticking close to the path. Derek hoped Jackson hadn't been stupid enough to walk into one of Chris' stupid traps. Again Derek felt like ripping Chris apart, for always interfering where he wasn't wanted. His worst fears were realized as they came across one of Chris' traps. It was a bear trap, a huge one, its metal teeth were covered in dried blood and chunks of flesh and bone clung to their sides. The pool of blood was large, it pooled around the trap and soaked deep into the ground. The trap was empty, they could see a place were a body had clearly been dragged, could see the smear of bloody mud. But those tracks disappeared as a set of footprints, sunk deep into the dirty, led off into the woods. Derek seethed and tried to calm his growing rage, anger was his default, but he was scared beyond reason now, his pup was hurt and someone had taken him. They ran through the woods now, Derek took the lead, followed Jackson's sent heavily clouded by his blood, he ran fast and hard, left the others behind, before finally coming to a hill. It was more of a mound, grass grew up its sides but one side was all cement, a wall, with a door in it. It had a number and letter, the area was covered in blood. The others barreled through the trees and came to a stop beside Derek.
Jackson felt vicious claws dig deep into his flesh and felt the meat of his sides burst into pain as they dug deep gouges onto his torso. He screamed and screamed until he ran out of air and felt the blissful touch of unconsciousness as it began to slowly shut his nerves off, Jackson felt his pain ebb away, noises faded, until he was barely there.
The creature walked around the naked youth and watched as the flesh slowly stitched together, the boy was a fast healer. It made playing his games more enjoyable, he didn't have to worry about being soft, going easy, he could go hard and ravage the boys quivering flesh. The boy would take it and heal it and be ready for more a few hours later. He slapped Jackson in an attempt to bring him back to consciousness but the boys eyes remained glossed over. He pulled a chair out and sat, waited for the boy to return before going back to his revenge, it wasn't what he had planned, but at least it was fun.
"What the fuck are we waiting for, he's in there we have to find him before…before something worse can happen to him. What kind of fool leaves a bunch of traps," Derek shouted.
"We don't know where that door leads, we don't know what waiting for us and we don't know how to get in," Chris shouted back
"Oh shut up! If it weren't for you leaving that fucking trap Jackson might have had a fighting chance!"
"I was trying to find the thing that has been killing people in this town. Did you even know that dozens of people have gone missing, or are you to busy fucking your little boy toy-"
Derek gripped Chris' throat and lifted him off the ground, he was raging now, his eye glowed crimson red, "Derek stop!" shouted Scott and tried to pry Mr. Argent free but couldn't. Derek knew he needed Chris to save Jackson and so he let go, let him fall to the ground in an uncoordinated heap.
"That is the last time you talk about Jackson that way, understood?" All Chris could do was shake his head. Derek turned and walked away, he knew where his pup was now, all he had to do was find were that door went and hope that Jackson could hang on long enough for Derek to save him.
Jackson came to free of pain. He couldn't feel his arms any longer, he wasn't sure whether that was a good thing or not but grateful none the less. He hung from his limbs loosely and waited for his next torture session. He heard a noise in the corner, a scraping, and he flinched violently. The man laughed, he reached out and wrapped one hand behind Jackson's neck and forced the boys head up.
"W-w-why are yo-you doing t-t-his," the question had been eating away at Jackson, the question haunted him, he was finally brave enough to ask since he was sure he was going to die. He at least wanted to die knowing that there was reason behind it, Jackson hated to think that this was just some sorry little lone wolf, or some other creature, who was just fucking insane, who saw no value in life. He didn't want to be a victim.
The man held onto Jackson and asked him something, one question he never expected, "How did you parents die little boy?" The man drawled holding Jackson's head tight in the grip of one of his hands bringing their faces close.
"Car crash…" sighed Jackson and the man laughed.
"Is that what they told you?" he laughed, for a long time, "If they could see you now…well, they would be so disappointed."
Jackson thought that physical pain was the only thing the man was capable of, he was wrong. Jackson often wondered what his real parents would have thought of him. Would his real father love him in a way his step father never did? Would his real mother shower him with affection like his step mother? He didn't know…would they be proud of him? How could they, when Jackson hated himself and everything he did…so much.
"I knew your parents boy. They were like you, beautiful, and they were the best at what they did. One day they did something, something that changed me, made me the man I am today," he chuckled, "and well…I swore I would never forgive them for it, I swore to hunt them down and take away everything they held dear, I swore to kill them…because they killed my family, butchered them like the animals they were," he laughed and squeezed Jackson's head until it was painful and then pushed Jackson's head away.
"But they died long before I could get to them, see someone got them before I could…I came to this town so long ago and they were dead, so I left. But years later, I heard rumors…and I had to come back. Weeks ago I came and I searched, I didn't know what for. Until I saw you, you looked so eager to bend over for your Alpha, there behind his house, the little pack bitch, and something about your smell…and I knew, I knew who you were and that anger and unsatisfaction from years ago…well…and you're a wolf," he laughed hard again, he slowly circled Jackson as he spoke, monologued, "god…your parents would have hated that, it would have disgusted them, you would have disgust them." The man grabbed Jackson's head and lowered his own until his mouth was next to Jackson ear and whispered. "Tell me little boy, do you know what your parents did for a living?"
Jackson shook his head slowly, he didn't want to know, he didn't want his illusions, the images of his parents, to be destroyed by some other persons truth, or supposed truth. He didn't want the false image of his parents to be tainted by the poison that spewed out of this man's mouth and yet he sensed the smallest hint of truth behind the man's words.
"See your parents killed my parents, my family, it was what they did. They went from town to town killing people like me, like you," he jabbed his finger into Jackson's cheek, "Maybe we should have been more respectful, maybe we should have practiced a bit of restraint. But people have a delicious flavor that can be found in no other animal and my family, we were addicted…Some would say we got what we deserved, especially after that school bus went missing, but those were my kin, that was my coven, my pack… as you would say, little boy, and when your parents broke into our home and slaughtered everyone, even the children, I swore I would make them pay, I devoted my life to this one goal…Unfortunately for you little boy, their debt has fallen on your head. No hard feelings, we are the same now, we are kin, of a sort, but I will torture you until I grow bored, until every last member of my family is satisfied, and then I'll kill you."
The man squeezed Jackson cheeks and parted his mouth before pouring water into it. Jackson wasn't given time to process all this information, he swallowed fast as an entire bottle was emptied into his mouth poured over his face, down his nostrils, he chocked. The man then shoved a handful of dry cereal into Jackson's mouth who chewed it fast and swallowed it down. The man didn't want the boy to die of something as banal as starvation or dehydration.
The man laughed again, "boy, how funny…I wonder what your parents would have done with you, I only see them capable of doing one thing. I mean they devoted their lives to killing our kind…I don't think they would have spared you."
Jackson cried, it was ironic, he had begged Derek to give him the bite, to make him a wolf and this man was telling him that his real parents would have hated him for it, so much so that they would have killed him. Jackson never seemed to be able to do anything right, he couldn't make either set of parents proud…But he clung to the feeling that maybe they wouldn't have hated him…maybe…he hoped at least.
Derek brought Stiles to the door and asked him if he knew what it was. Stiles didn't. He walked up to the door and turned the knob, it was locked. He turned back to Derek and shrugged. It didn't matter how well they planned if they couldn't open that fucking door. Derek walked up to it and pushed, but it didn't budge. He backed up and slammed into the door but all it did was hurt his shoulder. The entire group backed up and crouched as Chris pointed his gun and shoot the lock. The lock broke but the door remained still. Derek walked up to it and pushed again, this time he could feel something holding the door closed. He tried slamming into it as hard as he could but the door never budged. Whatever was holding it shut was big and heavier than Derek could move. He slammed his fist into the door again and again, until his knuckles were bleeding and his bones cracked. The sun was setting and everyone was tired, Derek hated it but he knew that they would have to try and get into the door tomorrow. Lydia said she thought she knew what that door was but needed time to do more research, she would know tomorrow. So it was agreed, tomorrow they would save Jackson, at least Derek hoped.