Instinct || Derek Hale.

twenty-two.

Warnings: Strong language, violence. 

***

Derek.

The pain surging through his body was almost unbearable. At this point, Derek was almost ready to beg for death. Almost. Sparks spat from his bare torso as electric currents flowed through the metal fence behind him. He refused to scream, but he couldn't stop the groan in the back of his throat as his back arched in agony. 

When the currents stopped, a tall, bearded man chuckled darkly and gestured to the device controlling the electricity. 

"Can't rely on these old machines." He shook his head, tutting. "You see, sometimes, we turn it up too high and the victims just die." 

"Is that so?" Derek growled. 

"You know, sometimes the bodies still jump for a few minutes, even after they're dead." The man smirked. 

"Now that you mention it." Peter nodded. "It is a little high."

Derek rolled his eyes at his uncle's sarcasm. Even in a life or death situation, he couldn't resist cracking jokes. 

"I wonder what would happen if I took this chainsaw and cut one of you in half?" The man sneered darkly. "Just how far do your healing abilities stretch?" 

"No tiene que ser tan duro." (It doesn't have to be that hard)

An older looking woman emerged from the shadows, interrupting the burly, bearded man. Derek clenched his jaw. 

"No hablo Espanol." Derek said darkly. (I don't speak Spanish)

"Tu hablas muchos idiomas, Derek Hale." The woman chuckled amusedly. (You speak a lot of languages, Derek Hale) Her face turned serious. "Where is the she-wolf." She demanded. 

Derek narrowed his gaze at the woman, glaring at her. He had no idea who this woman was, yet she seemed to know about him. He remained silent, refusing to give her any other kind of response. If she wanted information, she'd have to find someone else to torture. Because she certainly wasn't getting anything out of him. 

The woman chuckled again, clasping her hands behind her back. "Don't worry, I know the lobito won't talk." She moved her gaze to Peter, her smile wickedly evil. "But he will." 

Derek glanced at his uncle, narrowing his gaze once more. A silent gesture for him to keep his mouth shut. The woman continued. 

"He loves the sound of his own voice too much to stay quiet." 

"You should hear me sing." Peter smirked. 

The woman scrunched her face up in anger, the aged lines of her face deepening on her skin. She turned her back to them, hand scanning across the metal table of tools. She picked up a large knife, testing the weight of it on her hand, before turning back to the two Hale's. For an older woman, she sure had some speed behind her. Before Derek could even inhale a sharp breath, the woman severed a single finger from Peter's right hand. Then, as if she was proving that she was the one with the power here, she stabbed the finger nail down into the floor.

Peter groaned, clenching his jaw as his blood spilt to the floor. 

"I'm only going to ask nine more times." The woman said calmly before turning and walking away. The bearded man returned to his place beside the machine, leaving Derek and Peter alone. 

"That's just great." Peter groaned. 

"If I die before I find Alex again, I'll kill you." Derek growled.