Insanity ~ Teen Wolf/Stiles Stilinski

Chapter 36: Sarcasm...

Stiles' POV

It had been hours since I awoke and found myself encaged in this hell hole. And already, I was feeling sick from the filthy stench of damp and other things I hate to mention.

In he came, the Devil in my form and he stood, grimacing like everything was just another day.

"What the hell do you want?" I moped, not bothered to converse with him at all. I hoped he would just leave, but then again it was an impossible thought.

"How do you think the Pack is doing without the infamous Scott McCall to be their Alpha?" He asked, the slightest hint of pleasure on his face and in his eyes, in seeing me in pain and grief.

My heart sank into my stomach and I just needed him to leave. I wanted nothing to do with him. I didn't want anything do with him in the first place. Yet here he was. Standing around a hundred and forty eight pounds of what seemed to be simply flesh and bone, but in actual fact was pure evil.

"Katia would probably take care of it." I hissed, and his smile dropped to anger.

"You better hope not." He told as his eyes were wide. "Otherwise, I'll have to take care of her too. And you don't want that, do you Stiles?" I got up on my feet swiftly, and tried to attack the son of a bitch. But the chains were stronger and held my hands firm. I was but a few feet away from him, and I could feel the metal digging into my flesh as I pulled my body weight forward to try and reach him.

"Let me out of here! Let me out!" I demanded, my voice bellowing into an echo of a million miles in that small room. I gave the chains a final pull, and then gave up, standing up straight.

He took a sinister step forward, standing nose-to-nose with me.

"Now, why would I do that?" His devillish soul reached into the depths of mine, feeding off it like it was a tasty meal.

At this point, a sense of intimidation had come over me. And I realized, that if I tried to beat his ass, he'd only kill me. And I didn't want that.

"Because, your conscience is telling you to be nice?" I sarcastically replied in a low, mumble-like tone, but it was clear enough for him to understand.

"Sarcasm." He raised an eyebrow. "Interesting tactic." He paced around the room, like a General from the World War and I was his captive. "Why sarcasm?"

I remained silent for a moment, and then answered.
"Because, beating the crap out of people is illegal." I said quickly, showing aggetated behavior. In that moment, his expression just showed... Irritation.

Looking at him just reminded me of horrors. And then, my mind wondered back to incident before. Where Scott took his last breath. Even the thought of it formed a lump in my throat. And finally, I built up the courage to ask the question that filled my mind. "How did you get that gun?"

He tilted his head a little to the right. "Your Father is the Sheriff." He said, his voice slightly raised. "There's a few advantages there."

"What did you do?" I asked, and he began the story...

||FLASHBACK||

Parrish sat at his desk as he filed the last of the report on the latest case. He looked up for a mere second, and noticed Sheriff Stilinski in his office, on the phone. He wondered who it could've been.

Could it have been another case? A murder? A missing person? A kidnapping? Or maybe, it was just his son, Stiles.

Parrish knew how hyperactive Stiles was, how he would always find trouble one way or another.

The Sheriff suddenly, nodded and put down the phone. He walked swiftly out of his office, closing the door behind him.

"Where you off to, Sheriff?" Parrish asked, standing up from his seat.

"Oh, uh..." The Sheriff replied. "I have a little errand to run."

"Are you sure you don't need help?" He asked, insisting to come along.

"Uhmm, no. No, I'm good. Just, look after the place while I'm gone, will ya?" He requested.

"Uh, okay. Yeah, yeah, sure thing." Parrish answered back, and the Sheriff left as quickly as possible. Parrish sat back in his seat, looked around one last time and then shrugged it off and continued to file the reports.

A few hours later, Parrish was still seated in his wheely-chair, typing away at the computer whilst flicking through a few papers on his right hand side.

"Gosh, these drug cartels need to calm down with the shoot outs." He shook his head as he filed the reports on the latest drug cartel rivalry which took place in Beacon Hills.

Parrish suddenly heard a familiar pair of footsteps walking through the room. He looked up from the computer screen to see a tall figure, whose skin was as pale as a dying person, and eyes were as dull as could be with a pinkish-red outline to show tiredness and fatigue.

"Stiles?" He called the figure as he noticed him heading towards the Sheriff's office. Parrish rose from his seat and made his way to the young boy. "Stiles, what are you doing here?"

"Oh," Stiles looked behind him at the door to the office and then back at Parrish, "I, uh... I just came to get something for my Dad." Parrish furrowed his eyebrows at the sound of that statement. "He asked me to get something from his office." Stiles nodded, placing his hands on his hips casually, nodding his head and pursing his lips slightly.

"And where is your Dad?" Parrish's inquisitive personality annoyed Stiles, but he answered anyway.

"He's... He's out..." Stiles pointed his finger to the main entrance door. "Parked outside. Waiting for me." He smiled.

"Uh huh." Parrish raised his eyebrows and nodded to go along with it. "So, if I go out there right now, I'm going to see Sheriff Stilinski in the car, waiting for you?" Stiles remained silent for a while.

"Why? Why do you do this to me?" The young boy raised his hands up in frustration and flopped them back down to his sides.

"Alright. Alright, fine." Parrish smiled. "Go on, but don't take so long."

"Yes!" Stiles hissed the 's' in hs answer, and rushed into the office.

Parrish made his way back to his desk and continued his work. A few seconds later, Stiles walked out of the office, closing the door behind him.

"Got it?" Parrish asked, rising from his seat, once again. Stiles simply gave a nod and a little smile, then walked out.

But little did Parrish know, that it wasn't actually Stiles...

~~~***~~~

He impersonated me. Walked right into the damn Station and stole my Dad's gun from his office drawer!

"You bastard." I gasped, unable to comprehend it.

"And now, with Scott McCall out of my way," he faced me, standing quite close, "no one can stop the chaos."

"Just what exactly do you plan on doing?" I asked rudely.

"What I've done for years!" He laughed. "Chaos will come again." I took a step back, feeling as though I was sinking into myself. "It's too bad." He began again after a few moments of silence. "You won't be around to see it."

In that moment, Luca burst in with the arm of a young female clasped in his arm. He threw her to the ground and she landed with a thump, letting out a slight shriek. Her black hair covered her face, but I was familiar with her petite figure.

"We caught her lurking outside." Luca informed. It was only until Nola had thrown the girl's weapon that I realized who this was.

The metal blade relected the only light source and glistened brightly under it. It handle was dark and wrapped with black strips of fabric for one to hold it firmly.

"No." My heart fell into an abyss as the girl took the Katana in her hand. She slowly removed her hair from her face and looked up in courage.

It was Kira...