Kira groaned and rubbed her eyes as she adjusted to the new environment. The cold, cement walls around her gave a familiar sense of foreboding, and the faint echoes of screaming put her on edge.
"Is everyone okay?" Scott asked, looking around at his pack.
"Yeah, I think so," Liam responded. "Where are we?"
A sudden scream startled the teenagers, and they jumped in surprise.
"Wait a minute," Lydia said. "I know that voice." She closed her eyes in concentration and waited until another scream was heard. Opening her eyes in realization, she uttered, "It's me."
"What do you mean?" Kira asked, confused.
"That was me screaming. I know where we are. We're in Eichen House." Scott clenched his jaw as he remembered the time Stiles spent here, and Malia growled softly at the name.
"I think it was this way," Lydia said, walking stoically down the hallway until she reached a door. Pushing it slightly, the door creaked open. The pack walked inside and found themselves in a file room in the basement.
"Okay, this is really creepy," she said, looking at the scene in front of them. Lydia and Stiles were both restrained against a pole, and a mental worker named Brunski was hovering over them. Walking closer, they began to listen to the conversation.
"I helped her. And now you can help me. Because there is something that has always bothered me." Brunski put a tape in an old player and pressed the play button.
A faint crackling could be heard as the tape began to play. The heavy sound of doors banging filled the room, soon to be replaced by a voice. "What are you—Brunski what are you doing?"
"Don't worry, Lorraine," Brunski's voice sounded from the tape player. "It's going to be alright. You're just gonna have a little trouble breathing."
Past Stiles struggled against his restraints and looked behind him. "Lydia, look at me."
Trying to ignore the tape player, past Lydia turned to him. "Don't listen. Okay? Don't listen to it." Stiles started to breathe more heavily as he attempted to calm the strawberry blonde. "Just focus on my voice. Alright?" Stiles' voice cracked as he spoke louder. "Don't listen to it. Block it out. Okay?" Noticing that he wasn't getting through to her, he jerked against his restraints. "Lydia?"
Trying a new tactic, Stiles turned to Brunski and yelled, "Hey, turn it off!"
Brunski reacted with a spurt of anger and punched Stiles violently, causing him to fall to the ground.
"Stiles!" Past Lydia yelled in horror. Looking to Scott, present Lydia saw him start to rush forward, and she pulled him back.
"Scott! This is just a memory. We won't be able to help him."
Taking a few deep breaths, Scott relaxed. The faint groans of Stiles motivated him to move faster, and he said, "Come on, we need to find him before it's too late."
Looking behind her, Malia cocked her head as she noticed a door. "Hey, I think it's through there."
"Why do you think that?" Kira asked curiously.
"I don't know. Just a feeling." Tentatively walking toward the door, the were-coyote turned the handle. The pack briskly walked inside, and soon they were surrounded by darkness.
"We're at school?" Liam said as his eyes adjusted. "Well that's disappointing."
Scott suppressed a laugh and continued to walk down the familiar hallways.
Lydia, seeing that the hallway was empty, squinted her eyes in concentration. "Where is everyone?"
A sudden movement from down the hall caught their attention. Seeing a man in a yellow HAZMAT suit, the teenagers put two and two together. "This is the day that the CDC came in," Scott stated, suddenly noticing the sickly aroma that filled the air.
"Oh yeah, that happened on the day you were supposed to take the SAT," Liam concluded, obviously having been home that day rather than at school.
Scott nodded an affirmation, and the pack walked down the hall in order to find Stiles.
Approaching the door to the locker room, the alpha pushed it open and they cautiously sauntered inside.
"I was wondering how that idiot got sick," an unfamiliar voice said. Scott tentatively approached the open door to coach's office, and saw the back of someone's head. "I'm also wondering where your friends are. Since, in order to get paid by the Benefactor, I need to have proof they're dead."
"Visual confirmation," Stiles' panicked voice quietly reasoned.
The man nodded and replied, "Exactly." The man, whom Scott realized is called the Chemist by the police department, roughly grabbed Stiles' shoulder and pushed him into the locker room. Scott briskly walked backward to avoid being run into.
Stiles slowly walked forward, very aware of the gun aimed at his back.
"You still look feverish, Mr. Stilinski. But you should know something: the virus doesn't kill humans. You'll get better. So don't you think you should tell me where they are? Shouldn't one of you get to live?"
Scott clenched his fists in anger and muttered, "He didn't tell me this happened."
"He didn't tell any of us," Lydia replied, worried about her friend and why he kept something like this from them.
"I think I saw them in the library," past Stiles replied. "It might've been the cafeteria. It was definitely one of those two, though."
Clearly not satisfied with his answer, the Chemist tersely said, "I'm going to count to three, and then I'm going to kill you."
Stiles turned around and took a step closer. "You think you can scare me?"
The man replied, "No, I think I can kill you. I just thought the countdown would make it more exciting. So," he said, bringing the gun to rest against Stiles' forehead. The boy didn't even flinch. "One."
Stiles took in a sharp intake of breath.
"Two."
He closed his eyes tightly and tried to slow down his breathing.
The deafening sound of a gunshot resonated throughout the locker room. The pack, who hadn't moved an inch, suddenly looked around for the source of the shot.
Coming from the coach's office, a man in a HAZMAT suit cautiously walked in. Slowly removing the face mask, Raphael McCall looked at Stiles and assessed him for any injury.
"Dad?" Scott said in confusion.
As Stiles spit out some of the splattered blood from his mouth, he said, "Where the hell did you come from?"
Scott closed his eyes, making a mental note to ask both Stiles and his dad about this later. Taking in a deep breath, he opened his eyes and looked at the pack.
"Come on," Malia said. "We should go."
Tensely walking past Stiles and Mr. McCall, the group walked through the door to coach's office and braced themselves for what was to come.