YOUR Teen Wolf Story

One of Those Days:

You look down at your plate of food. The pancakes are drizzled with strawberry syrup and raspberries stand on the top of the little pancake pile. And the golden pancakes are slightly fluffy. How anyone could make this didn't seem so possible. It had to take skill.

But suddenly, you lose your appetite; this story didn't seem so well. Why did they ask of your help? It didn't seem like they needed it. And this talk about flies coming out of your stomach didn't help you at all.

"Why are you telling me this? It's not like I can help you."

A boy about seventeen looks at you. He has already inhaled his pancakes. The front of his hair was flipped up. Beauty marks were here and there. His lips, rosy. The boys eyes though. So sad. So scared. Only the devil wouldn't take pity on him. He wore a black shirt and a dark blue hoodie. Sneakers and jeans.

"You can. You like history and stuff like that, right?"

"......Yes? Why's it matter?"

"Then you can help us. The Greeks-"

"Hold up. Why are you asking me? And why?"

His face hardened. You knew you touched a quiet subject.

"Someone could get hurt."

You take that as a threat.

With a glare, you say:"It won't be me."

"No it's not. I'm talking about me."

You shift in your seat.

He continues from where you interrupted.

"The Greeks killed a man with a sword, right?"

"This is Greek mythology. I'm going to need more than that."

"I heard something about a round sword-"

"That's a scythe."

"- and they killed him by throwing him into a pit."

"I think you're talking about Kronos. Do you want the long story or the short?"

"Long."

"Okay. Well, Kronos was a Titan. Immortal with the power to control time. He had some kids, gods actually, and they all gotten eaten up by Kronos. He feared there power and thought they could take over him. But the last one, Zeus, was raised in a cave. Instead of Rhea, his wife, giving him baby Zeus to eat, she gave him a rock.When Zeus grew up, he gave Kronos a mixture of mustard and wine. Throwing up the other five gods. In a war, the gods won and sliced Kronos to pieces with his own scythe and scattered his remains in Tartarus, the darkest part of the Underworld. Practically a Hell, run by the god, Hades. Anything else?"

"Where's the Underworld?"

"What?"

"Where is it?"

"It's all myth."

The odd man sighs."If it was in America, where would it be?"

You try to process this. Where is the Underworld? Nowhere. It's not real. But there was that one place.....

"Uh. It's in the forest. I guess. It's not really the Underworld. But that's what people call it. An old shack where people go there and don't come back. It's by a river. People who are close to it see an old boat with a man in rags with the person who disappeared most recently on that boat. Hence the name; Underworld. You could've looked this up, you know."

"Someone wanted me to come to you and only you. You went there before, haven't you."

Now you're defensive.

"Why's it matter?"

"Then you have, tell me the story."

Something makes you give in so easily. This had to be said. If he could get hurt, then you might as well say it.

"First, tell me your name."

"Stiles. Now tell-"

"Stiles! I can't tell you the story."

"Why not?"

"Because you already know it."

Stiles looks at you with confusion. He doesn't remember.

"Lydia's birthday?"

Stiles looks even more confused.

"Truth or Dare?"

Nothing. You sigh.

"Me, you, Scott, Jessica, Lucy and some of her other friends went to celebrate Lydia's 10th birthday party at her house. We ate cake, played games, but then we came across Truth or Dare. I was dared to pick one person to take with me to the Underworld. I chose you and we went deep down into the wood. An old rickety shack right next to a river. We had to stay in that shack for an hour. About fifteen minutes passed and the shack's door opened. A monster, of some sort, ran in and tried it's best to kill us." Looking down at your pancakes, you start to shake from fear."Long story short:You got knocked out and I had to drag you all the way back with a broken hand. Sorry, but I have to go."

You stand up, but not before Stiles says:"Thanks for saving me. I owe you." And you walk out the door.

The fear slowly crept in your heart. Your brain feels like it might explode. A ringing sets in your ears and your heart rate fastens. Then your legs feel like jello. Emotions swirl around you. Confusion. Fear. Worry. Hope. Every time you ever talk about that day, you relive it.

Fear, chokes you. Making it impossible to breathe. Confusion makes your head ache. Worry stabs you in the gut. And hope slowly dies in your heart.

Even now, the cold air nips at your skin. Even now, you smell the stench of the Devil's breath.

You could have told Stiles more. Could have. But you didn't want him to see you cry. As it always seemed like a weakness. Like waving a white flag. But the secrets stay inside you. If you told, everyone would think you're crazy. Glowing eyes? No, no, not possible. Meeting death? He's not a real person.

Don't think about this anymore. You tell yourself. Stop it. Block it out.

With weak steps, you walk to you car. Slowly opening the door, do you slide in.

15 minutes passed and you haven't bothered to start the car. The number one rule on driving is safety first. Driving drunk on emotions is never a smart thing to do.

Someone bangs on the passenger window, waking you from a dream. With a shrill scream the robber puts his hand over your mouth.

"Shut up! It's me Stiles! Ow! Ow! Ow!"

You bit his hand.

"What was that for?" Stiles asks with curiosity.

"I don't know! Let's start with you banging on the window?!?"

"Sorry. Hey, I need a ride home."

You glare at him. Who does he think you are?

"I have to-" The ignorant man buckles up. "Fine. What's you address?"

"I can tell you the way."