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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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The car stopped. Scott turned his head towards Allison.
"We're here?" She asked giving Scott's hand a quick reassuring squeeze.
"We're here." Scott said almost reluctantly.
"We're here!" Malia said enthusiastically immediately diving towards the door handle.
No one moved.
"Guys? What the hell are you waiting for! Let's get Stiles!" She said impatiently.
"Let's get Stiles." Scott repeated. Letting the words finally sink in, allowing his guilt to be replaced with excitement.
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The pack crashed through the front doors expecting the unexpected.
The walls were plastered in white, which contrasted against the rugged exterior of the building. Equally white doors were pasted along the sides, their black numbers being the only form of decoration. There were no visible windows, instead the endless corridors were filled with artificial light.
As the group moved further down the corridor it was clear that this picture perfect facadethe organization had going was surely deteriorating.
Lights started flickering. The once pristine walls were now covered in large cracks. The floors had little specks of blood looked unnaturally more red against the once pearly floors. Some doors were only hanging on a single hinge the rest were knocked down completely.
The faint sound of an alarm started to blare.
It only got worse as they progressed.
WICKED soldiers soon appeared from behind a door. At first, their focus was directed to unknown opponent, launchers already blazing. It wasn't long till they spotted the pack and swiftly decided they were the new target. Instinctively the soldiers lifted their launchers.
Soon, the pack also readied their weapons; Claws were out. Powerful banshee screams were at the ready along with guns and a katana sword.
Scott smiled, he knew they were ready for war.
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Thomas's eyes peeled open for only just a second. Everything hurt.
The room was still lit with darkness and his hands still dug deeper into the rusted chains above him.
His feet barely reached the floor, he used whatever little strength left he could muster just to lift himself for air. Each second was agonizing but in the end wasn't it worth it? Isn't survival worth it? Survival was all Thomas knew. If he could just hang on a little longer, wouldn't that give him a little bit more time to be saved? What if, all he was fighting for was the hardship he received? Then, was it really worth it?
