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Stiles has been missing for three years and everyone is starting to loose hope. All except Scott.
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Thomas and his friends are living a great life in the safe haven only for things to go wrong.
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When Scott finds crucial information about Stil...
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Scott stormed out the car and marched right into the middle of the road. His nails started forcing their way out into the open, his fangs were also making an appearance. Scott fell to his knees holding his hands in tight fists, squeezing his eyes shut. His chest raised up and down rapidly, he started hyperventilating.
"Scott?" Lydia called out but she was incoherent to Scott.
He looked out straight ahead of him. Crimson eyes shining towards the horizon and he let out a howl.
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Allison sat up in her seat. She looked over to Derek and Isaac who were both held their hands over their ears.
"Derek! Hands!" Allison yelled, commanding him to put his hands back on the wheel.
The car took a sharp swerve before the wolf's hands made it back.
"Was that —"
"Yes." Isaac replied immediately still fidgeting with his ears. "Yes, it was." He finished, shaking his head but then his face fell.
Derek looked at him and his fell too.
"What is it? What happened?" Allison asked as she moved closer to the boys.
"Well, that was definitely Scott." Isaac half chuckled causing Derek to shoot him a look.
"I don't get it. Scott howls all the time."
"This one was different, Allison." Derek replied looking back at her. She was ridden with anxiety.
"This one was filled with pain."
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Thomas's eyes darted open; something was off.
His legs were limply dangling below him. His head turned to the roof, chains were wrapped tightly around his hands. He tried to move but instead he was just engulfed with pain. His shirt was now completely removed, rather then torn in half, revealing his no longer oozing wounds.
Everything hurt. His bones felt dry and as if they were scraping against one another. His muscle seemed to go into spasms every time he moved. His head was spinning, giving him the worst type of vertigo.
Although, before he could even think about all this, Janson strutted into the small room. He swung a baseball bat between his hands. As Thomas laid eyes on the bat something flashed before him.
What? You got claws, I got a bat.
Thomas shook his head. "What..." he said under his breath. "Claws?"
