Tether ⌲ Stiles Stilinski [2]

twenty-seven

I was underground. Somewhere with little indication of the time of day or night. I couldn't remember when exactly I had arrived here. One moment I was in the McCall's living room, the next I could feel darkness gripping me from all sides and making my mind go fuzzy. I remembered the Nogitsune's hands on my mouth and my arm, ripping me back out the porch door. And then I was here.

The room I was in was small, floor to ceiling cement rising up around a footprint big enough for a thick column of dripping water pipes and not much else. Except for me.

I fidgeted awake and hardened my jaw with anger. He hadn't even bound me like he had back in the guidance counsellor's office. He knew he was stronger than any of us now, he knew I didn't stand a chance. And leaving all of my limbs free was as much a relief as it was a terrifying insult. My heartbeat hammered against my ribcage and a layer of sweat broke on my skin.

Identify your surroundings, my father's voice instructed.

Concrete wall. Concrete floor. Useless pipes. One gate. Simple enough lock.

It didn't matter where I was in Beacon Hills, it mattered where I was standing. And then when I got out of where I was standing, I'd do it again and again and again until I could breathe fresh air. I could think rationally about this, I could be the skilled hunter, I just needed to focus on my next step and only my next step. Then it wouldn't seem so terrifying.

But remembering that tactic about how I was supposed to approach terror was easier than actually doing so. The fear in my heart was persistent. The voices in my head were loud.

Wherever I was, the noise was excruciating. I knew that had to mean this place had a complicated history of death. Or maybe that my own death was imminent if I didn't get the hell out.

Track all potential points of exit.

There weren't any grates or vents, even behind and above the drainage system. Just one way in or out, a sturdy metal gate bolted into concrete.

An echoing scream ripped from the dark passage outside my cell and made me gasp my mouth closed. I squeezed my eyes shut tightly against the noise. Screams were layering over each other now. They seemed to bounce off the walls and rattle around in my skull. I could feel the lone, cold tear trickle down the side of my face before I realized I was crying.

"It's louder than usual, isn't it?"

I snapped my eyes open and there he was right in front of me, a dull grin on his face. The Nogitsune's dark eyes were menacing. And I no longer had to fear him as playing the role inside the body of the boy I loved. Based on my assumption, the real Stiles was back at the McCall house. The only thing left standing in front of me was the monster.

I stilled, refusing to wince at the noise in front of him. I knew that the more I looked like trapped prey, the more he had to smile about. So I pushed my shoulders back and tried to keep my expression flat.

"What are they telling you?" He whispered, taking a slow step closer. "The voices, are they saying Stiles is dying?" He took another step closer, drawing out his words in a teasing melody. "He is, you know."

Another step. As he moved nearer to my face, I gritted my teeth so that I wouldn't back down. So that I could hold his stare without cowering away. I felt his breath fan over me as he hushed, "Stiles is dying."

"And you aren't?" I snapped, glaring at him as we stood mere inches apart. "You don't have the protection of his innocence anymore. None of us would hesitate. I wouldn't hesitate. And when the Oni find you, no one's going to protect you like we did back at the loft. You've made yourself into something easy to kill. It's only a matter of time."