Yours (Stiles Stilinski)

Chapter Seventy Seven

Small A/n- It'll make sense eventually, I promise. More updates coming soon! (Also, continuous maintenance and editing. If you're rereading, some parts may be a lil different in the next couple of days. — Please also point out noticeable errors! Y'all already know I'm writing this in the crack ass middle of the night. 😎Enjoy! Xoxo
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Scott let out a deafening roar out on the edge of a forest. He tried to get a sense of where they had been taken, any direction, anything. Yet, there was nothing. Liam and Hayden were probably dead at this point, and Y/n... Scott put a hand to his chest, as he knelt to the ground. He heard footsteps approaching behind him. His gaze moved back to see Malia with a frown on her face. He looked back towards the sky. "Why can't I feel her? ... There- There's no scent. No tracks. No way to find them," Scott muttered, his eyes falling back to the ground in defeat.

"But Liam can howl back, right? And Y/n might be able to reach out to you, Scott!" Malia persisted. Scott looked at his hands.

"Only if he heard me... and only if she were conscious. She can't reach out if she's dead."

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Somewhere in the desolate countrysides of Eastern Europe, there was a laboratory. Deaton had been searching for answers, and this was where he had ended up. He looked over at the hired help who carried a solid firearm and a hesitant expression.

"I guess it's just you and me... I take it you don't believe the official story about nuclear radiation?" Deaton asked, as the man, Vadim, took off his gas mask.

"This is not a nuclear plant," Vadim responded shortly. Deaton raised his eyebrows, as they went further into the structure.

"Do you know what it is? Or what it was used for?" He asked, as they found the lab he was looking for.

Scrawled on one of the concrete walls was a message in a different language. "I know the rumors. Superstition," Vadim said. Deaton nodded as he tried to decipher the language on the wall without luck. He pointed at the writing.

"What does that say?" Deaton asked. Vadim moved forward, shuffling his gun out of the way as he wiped the dust off of the scribbled language.

Vadim's eyes widened, and he let out a breath. "They come... They come for all of us,"

"The men in the masks?"

"Yes. Like these," Vadim muttered, huffing out a frightened breath.

"What was the story?" Deaton asked gently, trying to calm the man down.

"They say they never took off the mask. Some people believed they had no faces underneath. But they had a symbol... The snake that eats itself."

"The Ouroboros. Like that one?" Deaton asked, pointing to a wall. The snake sent chills down Deaton's back, but he walked forward into the Laboratory. He looked around, his face growing with concern.

"What are those?" Vadim asked, looking at the shelves full of jars with... something in them.

"Failed experiments," Deaton muttered.

"On children?"

"Fetuses. These were done in the womb... Huh," Deaton said, looking down at a drawing. It was a diagram of a fetus, one with strikingly familiar markings over the placenta, like little golden webs. His eyes flickered over to another object, and he reached to pick it up, as he slipped the drawing in his pocket.

"Is that a claw?" Vadim asked, leaning closer. Deaton shook his head.

"No... It's a tooth. I think I found what I'm looking for."