Teen Wolf Imagines

Hunted - Void!

"Y/N, due to your recent injury you'll have to stay here while we hunt down the nogitsune." Derek ordered, looking over the pack as you grumbled, flopping back onto the couch where you sat.

"I broke my finger, not my leg!" You protest, holding up your hand, the small purple cast covering your hand and a small part of your wrist, the purple plaster already decorated with various signatures and doodles.

"I know, but we want you to be safe. You never know how it could effect you." Scott said, giving you a small smile as you sighed, crossing your arms and wincing slightly as you accidently pressed against your broken finger.

The pack had been gone for almost an hour now, trying to track the void through the town, whist you sat on the couch , trying (and failing) to change the TV channel with one hand immobile. You threw the remote to the side, focusing your attention back to what could possibly be the most boring documentary that had ever been created. Who cared about crab migration? You certainly didn't, but you were unable to accurately hit any buttons or to hold the remote, either way you were stuck watching footage of crabs crawling along the sea floor. Just as you felt you couldn't watch another second of the documentary you heard the familiar sound of the heavy door sliding open. You stood up, ready to greet the pack and thank them for rescuing them from your boredom.

"You really need to leave me with some proper-" You cut yourself off as you turned around, and instead of seeing the pack, saw only Stiles standing behind the door. You inched back, wary of the teenage boy.

"Stiles?" You questioned, praying that it was the real deal. The dark smile that appeared on his face told you otherwise.

"Stiles isn't here right now." The only plan you could think of was to stall, and hope the pack would find you before anything could happen.

"Did the pack find you?" You query, your eyes slowly looking over to where your phone was sitting on the table, wondering wether you could make a dash for it and call Derek or Scott before the nogitsune caught you.

"They didn't find us, your poor puppies aren't as capable without you."

Everything erupted after that, you darted towards the table and the void ran forward as well. Just as you gripped your phone with your good hand a were pulled back by the back of your shirt, a gasp emerging as you hit the cold floor. Your phone fell from your hand, landing just out of reach. You groaned, trying to sit up when a sudden weight on your chest made you look up. The nogitsune was standing above you, a sinister smirk on his face as he pressed his sneakered foot onto your chest, pining you to the ground. You winced, trying to winch yourself out from his hold. You groaned, as he pressed down harder, you let out a small cry as you felt your ribs start to bend and groan in protest. The ancient spirit bent down, fisting his hand into the front of your shirt, hoisting you off the ground, lifting you to his eye level. You dragged in desperate breaths, trying to find your footing as he held you off the ground. His dead eyes bored into your fearful ones, that evil smirk still gracing his face.

One second you were being held off the ground, the next your head had snapped to the side, a sickening crack emerging from your nose. You screamed, feeling the pain immediately as the blood began to trickle out of your nose. The nogitsune repeatedly hit you, hard punches raining down on your face, more blood and bruises appearing every second. He threw you to the ground, and in an instinctive act you put your hand out to catch your fall. Your casted hand. It gave out, the pain being to intense to stop the fall and your head connected to the ground, a muffled thump emerging as you let out a cry, tears leaking out of your swollen arms. You gurgled, spitting blood out of your mouth as you lay on the ground, being too weak to stand or fight. The nogitsune kneeled beside you, his face taunting you ay continued to groan and cry, occasional whimpers emerging from your bloodied mouth.

"It's a pity someone so pretty like you got caught up with the wrong ground." He said, and with that he wrapped his large hands around your throat, throttling you. You tried to claw at his hands, panicking as you lost your already limited supply of oxygen. Your attempts were fruitless, and the fox tightened his grip, watching as you tried to beg, as your lips formed half-spoken words. He kept his grip tight around your throat until your eyes rolled backwards into your head, your body going limp. He gave your throat one last squeeze before he stood, wiping his hands on his worn jeans, getting your blood off of his hands. And with that he left, leaving your broken and bloody body in the middle of the loft for the pack to discover. Because while they were hunting him, he was hunting you.