Stiles, not knowingly, ran into a life he never knew existed, and into people who he soon ended up trusting more than his ex pack. Now, it's up to him, his newfound family, and friends to fight off a greater evil. He was no longer lost on who or wha...
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STILES WAS CUT off after saying his cousins name as a guy jumped out of nowhere. Screaming in fright, Stiles ended up throwing his hands up in surprise which made his phone fall to the floor. "What the hell dude!?" He asked in anger and frustration, glaring at the stranger.
"Mieczyslaw Fairchild," the man addressed, although he butchered Stiles' name, brought out a sword from his jacket and it lit up. And before Stiles could retort about the guys pronunciation or even blink, the man charged.
Almost like a reflex, Stiles turned around and grabbed an axe that once was hung up on the wall as decoration.
Thinking quickly, he swung the weapon at the dude, who had a red circle on his neck. But, of course, the older man easily dodged Stiles' attempt at impaling him.
The unknown professionally swung the sword around, eyes narrowed, trying to kill Stiles for reasons the eighteen year old did not know.
Thankfully, due to running with werewolves and dodging many, many attempts at his life, Stiles had gained fast reflexes, and dodged the guys attempt at slicing him in half. But, of course, the teenager wasn't fast enough, and he ended up knocked on the arm. It didn't hurt as much as it would've if he didn't have adrenaline coursing through his veins, keeping him focused on staying alive.
In retaliation, Stiles kicked him in the stomach as hard as he could, sending him into a shelf full of antiques. Stiles stood up straight, letting his guard down a little, smiling in victory. But, the smile vanished quickly when the dude pushed himself up.
Almost in a whine, Stiles asked, "You're not gonna give up, are you?" The guy smirked at his question. "Okay, okay. It looks like I might have to fight you then," he said, gripping the axe tighter, holding it much like a lacrosse stick.
"You're a talker, aren't you?" The guy asked sarcastically, before bolting for him again.
"Dude!" Stiles screeched. "You could've gave me a heads up," he complained, running around a desk as fast as he could, his heart pounding against his chest. How the hell am I suppose to get out of this?!
"Will you stay still so that I can kill you!?" He asked Stiles through clenched teeth as he went around the desk for a fifth time.
"Nah, I think I'm rather enjoying this," Stiles told him with a sarcastic smile. It fell from his face the moment the guy jumped over the desk. "Oh, Hale," hd muttered to himself just as the guy charged at him. Again.
As he was running away, an idea popped into Stiles' head. What if I take his weapon away?
Stopping mid-run, the teenager turned around quickly, jumping out of the way as the guy thrusted the sword toward him. He twisted his body and successfully grabbed the light up sword out of the older man's hand.
