Stiles's blood froze in his veins. He was cold and his wrists hurt, which matched the pounding headache he was sporting. His breath hitched when his bare feet (he was almost positive he had put socks on) twitched on the concrete floor.
"You're awake." A woman's voice rang out, echoing in whatever room they were in. Despite his eyes still being closed, he flinched at how loud her voice seemed. Stiles groaned a little as he rolled his aching neck, causing it to crack before opening his eyes.
Almost immediately he shut them again, the lights being too bright for him to handle. He most definitely had a concussion, and he berated himself for being injured. Opening his eyes again, he focused on the figure in front of him that was slowly coming into focus.
"Isaac?" Stiles coughed out, realizing how dry his throat actually was. "Isaac?" He tried again, but one more, there was no movement from the curly-haired lad. "What did you do to him?" He asked out, coughing from talking some more. Tori wasn't in front of him, but it still surprised him when she grabbed onto his shoulders, and dug her nails in.
"Nothing he didn't want." She whispered into his ear, her lips so close that Stiles could practically feel them brush against his lobe. "And something you'll beg for."
"I'd rather die than beg you for something." He spat out, getting her tisk in reply.
"Oh, you'll definitely want it. They all do in the end." she bit onto his ear playfully and ruffled his hair before standing up and moving in front of him, crouching down to eye level. "I'm going to kill you, Stiles, slowly and painfully, like polonium. I'm going to feed off of you, and in the end, you'll get down on your hands and knees, and beg me to kill you out of mercy. And at that point, I'll laugh in your face, and walk away, leaving you withering in an unimaginable amount of pain."
"Then get on with it. Stop talking and just do it!" Stiles yelled, trying to antagonize her. But all she did was laugh, a long, high-pitched, grating laugh that irritated him more and more as it continued. She stood up again, straightening out her clothes as her laughter died down, before walking over to where Isaac was lying unconscious and pale.
"Stay away from him, you bitch!" Stiles pulled on the chains holding his wrists, and struggled to stand up. In a split second though, she was in front of him, grabbing onto his neck and holding him up in the air, causing him to start choking.
"Ah, ah, ah! Sit back down." Tori glared at him before tossing him to the ground, his back hitting the wall he was chained to from the momentum of being thrown.
"You'll never win!" He called out to her when she turned her back on him again to kneel over Isaac. "Never!" Yanking on the chains once more, Stiles winced at the metal digging into his skin.
"I'll be back in a few hours." Tori said, standing up and wiping her hands on her pants, leaving a reddish stain on the jeans. "I have to go to school." And with that, she walked up the wooden stairs that Stiles hadn't noticed before, and slammed the door behind her. The sound of locks seemed to hit him, making him realize that there really was no escape from this one.
Sighing, Stiles leaned his head back, resting it against the large copper pole he was chained onto. It was cold, but it felt absolutely fantastic against the humid, sticky warmth that the basement seemed to be surrounded in. He gulped, as a bead of sweat traveled down his temple, threatening to drip off his face. Beforehand he hadn't seemed to notice the temperature, though now, it bothered him greatly.
Sleep was something he knew he needed, and something he wanted, Stiles knew though, that he wouldn't be getting sleep and he couldn't allow himself to get drowsy. He didn't know how severe his concussion was, and since no one, but an unconscious Isaac is around to wake him up every few hours, he'd have watch himself carefully.
Moving around again, Stiles pretzeled his legs, and moved his hands till they were resting in his lap. Taking his head off the copper, he looked down to access the damage done to his hands. All around his wrists in a perfect circle, were blue and slightly green bruises. Some of it looked more brown and others black, but he wasn't sure if that was from the metal rubbing off or if that part was just severely bruised.
"Isaac?" Stiles whispered out, his voice not being able to go any louder from lack of hydration. The teen stirred. "Isaac?" He forcibly said his friend's name, causing his voice to crack. Isaac stirred but didn't wake, causing Stiles to let out a frustrated sigh. "You've got to be kidding me." Looking around, he let out another sigh. "Why is it always the basement?"
Taking a chance to survey his surroundings, Stiles glanced around. To his immediate left was a workshop table, with a variety of tools scattered across it. However, none of them appeared to be used in years with the amount of spiderwebs and dust on them. Next to that was a lamp, one of those that the light can be manipulated in which direction it's shining. Then it was Isaac, who appeared to be lying on bags of potatoes or something else lumpy and uncomfortable. Covering the far wall were some cabinets, some of the doors cracked open enough for him to figure out it was the house's pantry, or at least a back-up. He was roughly in the middle of the room.
To his right, there were some small windows, that were absolutely filthy, and most obviously haven't been washed in years. Though, they did give him some slight relief as they did help him determine whether it was day or night, or basically what the weather was like. Underneath the windows were broken bookshelves with ancient looking books, some with the spine bend awkwardly. A few looked like a rat may have chewed on them a little to try them out.
Trying to look behind him, there was a small wooden staircase, with crooked, warped stairs, leading up to a pale white door. Other than that, there was a small black fridge, or freezer, and an old washtub alongside a washing machine and a dryer. There was a close line as well, with those common plastic hangers hooked onto it, attached to one side of the room and leaving off at the other. It wasn't too bad of a basement, pretty basic and all.
Satisfied that it wasn't crowded, Stiles focused his attention back on Isaac. From his view, there were no injuries on Isaac's face, and judging from the paleness of Isaac's skin, he came to the conclusion that it was fatigue. Nodding to himself, Stiles attempted to get a little comfortable. Sleep was his best chance at the moment since she was gone.
"Get up." Someone kicked his leg. "Get up!" The harsh tone said again. Jolting awake, Stiles came face-to-face with Tori. "There you go. Mornin' sleeping beauty." Glancing around, Stiles took note that it was dark outside, which meant he had thankfully slept for a couple of hours. "Ah, ah, ah! I need your attention on me." Ignoring her, Stiles swiveled his head around her to take a look at Isaac. He instantly felt relief when he noticed Isaac was finally awake, but the terror in Isaac's eyes stopped the feeling from going too far. "I said look at me." Tori snarled out, her hand gripping his jaw and turning his head towards her.
"Actually, you said that you needed my attention." Stiles smugly retorted. A sudden pain hit his cheek, sending his head to the side from the force, and instantly he felt blood starting to drip. His mouth opened in a small 'O' shape and he stayed still for a second out of shock.
"Don't be a smart-ass." Her voice loudly said. Concussion, he reminded himself, but judging from how well he slept for a few hours, Stiles became almost certain that it wasn't severe.
"Stiles?" Isaac's voice cracked, and it sounded extremely dry, causing Stiles to wince.
"How lovely for you to join us, Isaac." Tori's sweet, caring voice came back again, and at that moment, all Stiles wanted to do was punch her. "See," she turned back to Stiles, "now we have an audience." He scowled at her and narrowed his eyes at her statement. "Let's get you up." Before he could move, Tori grabbed underneath his arms and hoisted him up, as if he didn't weigh anything. He went to kick her, but was dismayed by finding out his feet were suddenly chained as well. When she drew away, Stiles immediately felt the pull in his shoulders, and he couldn't stop the cry of pain that broke from his lips.
"Stop!" He heard Isaac's protest, but Tori's laugh just followed after. The pain lingered, but he clenched his jaw, refusing to make another sound.
"Awe, no more beautiful noises?" A pout appeared on Tori's face, and Stiles spat at her. She made a sound of outrage, and then all Stiles could feel was searing pain traveling up and down his leg. He heard a scream, but it took him a couple of seconds to realize it was him, and a couple of more to realize that she had broken his leg. "Like music to my ears." Tori winked at him, and he thrashed around, trying to break the chains on his hands, but he only succeeded in causing himself more pain. "Do it again." She demanded, and just as he was about to spit at her again, she punched him.
And kept punching him. Stiles felt his eye swollen the second she hit it, but most of her aims were at his chest and stomach. Probably in an attempt to preserve his handsome face, he joked to himself. His torso felt sore after the third hit, and he was pretty sure that somewhere along the way, one of his ribs gave out. Stiles tasted blood in his mouth, and after a few minutes, he almost gave in and indulged her in what she wanted, which was to make sure she was hurting him. But Isaac spoke up amongst his thoughts of pain and stopped him.
"Don't give in, Stiles. You're stronger than this. You're stronger than any of us, even us werewolves." Grasping onto that, Stiles kept his mouth shut and endured the gross amount of torment and punches thrown his way. The air echoed with Tori's remorseless laugh.
A couple of more minutes passed, or maybe it was seconds, and while Stiles didn't give in to making sounds, he was starting to give in to sleep, from the pain overload. He was going to die by being physically beaten. In some ways, he agreed it was probably the best way he could go considering his lifestyle of hanging around werewolves and other creatures of the supernatural, but in others, he couldn't help to think about how unfair it was. He absolutely refused to put the blame on Isaac though.
Just as he started to go unconscious, a banging noise came from up above, and he began chuckling, low at first, and then it grew into a full on laugh, despite how much it hurt his ribs. He couldn't be sure if it was because he was high on endorphins or just from straight out relief, but whatever it was, it stopped the punches from coming.
"Why are you laughi-?" Tori's question was cut short as the door to the basement came crashing down. Stiles's laughter grew more maniacal when he heard a low, vibrating growl.
"You're in some deep shit now." He smiled at her, not caring that his teeth were bloody. A huge ball of black fur barreled into her and knocked her backwards against the cabinets.
In a mix of events, Stiles began to pass out, only to be shaken away by the one and only Lydia. He had already been cut down, and his hands and feet were free from the confining metal. He was greatly leaning against Lydia, and it took him a while to notice that Tori had changed into the snake beast, and was fighting the group of werewolves, and kitsune, in front of him.
Stiles watched as Scott slashed at her tail, and he yelled out when he noticed Tori turning, but was too late. She spewed something at his best friend and whatever-the-hell-it-was hit Scott straight in the eyes, and almost instantaneously Scott was down on the ground, covering his face and withering in pain. "F-" Scott held the curse in, but Stiles knew exactly what he wanted to say, because that's exactly what he wanted to say, but he seriously doubted an angry version of "King's Speech" F-Bomb session was going to do anything useful.
Grabbing onto Lydia's hand out of comfort, all Stiles could do was watch, as Isaac got thrown against a wall being rendered unconscious, and how Derek barely managed to tumble out of way as Tori's tail came crashing down like a whip. He watched as Tori knocked Malia sideways, and Malia dropped like dead weight to the ground, out cold. It was like a movie with how Jackson jumped on her back, snarling out, but her slamming her back against a wall, causing him to go out like a light and fall to the floor. At some point, Liam's body skidded across the floor and one look at him, and Stiles could easily tell that he too was unconscious.
Derek's roar hit the air and Stiles tightly closed his eyes from the amount of distress that sounded out. Peeking one of his eyes open, he saw Derek being thrown to the ground near where Isaac was.
They were losing.