Void (The Youngest, Book 3.B.)

Chapter 十一 (B)

Scott was asleep in his room when the sudden ringing of his phone jolted him awake. He rubbed his eyes, blinking at the screen. It was Stiles.

"Hey, man, what's up?" Scott said groggily, but when there was no immediate response, he caught the sound of Stiles' heavy breathing on the other end. "Stiles?" he called out, now fully awake, concern flooding his voice. "Stiles, you there?"

"Scott? Hey, I'm here," Stiles finally answered, but his voice was shaky, barely more than a whisper.

"Are you okay? Can you hear me?" Scott sat up, his heartbeat quickening with worry.

"Scott, I don't—I don't know where I am. I don't know how I got here. I think I was sleepwalking," Stiles said, his whisper betraying a hint of panic.

Scott stood, feeling the tension building in his chest. "What do you mean?"

"It's dark. It's hard to see," Stiles said, his voice breaking. "I think there's something wrong with my—"

Suddenly, the call disconnected. Scott's eyes widened in alarm, and he immediately redialed. The call went unanswered twice, his heart pounding in his ears, but on the third attempt, Stiles finally picked up again.

"Stiles?" Scott said, his voice almost a shout now, filled with panic.

"Scott, I don't think I can get out of here. I can't move," Stiles whispered, his voice cracking.

"Where are you?" Scott demanded, desperation edging his words.

"I don't know. I don't know, it's too dark, I can't see much, and something's wrong with my leg." Stiles' voice trembled, his breathing coming in gasps. "It's stuck on something. And it's—I think it's bleeding."

"How bad, Stiles? How bad is it?" Scott's heart felt like it was about to burst out of his chest. There was no reply, only heavy breathing on the other end. "Stiles, are you there? Can you hear me?"

"There's some kind of smell down here. It's brutal," Stiles choked out, his voice hoarse. "My eyes are watering."

Scott swallowed hard, trying to steady himself. "Listen, I'm calling your dad," he said.

"No, no, no, no. Don't," Stiles cut him off quickly, panic clear in his voice.

"But your dad—"

"Don't. Please don't call him. Promise you won't. He already worries about me too much. Scott, please," Stiles pleaded, his voice almost breaking, and Scott could hear the sniffle on the other end.

"But what if I can't find you? Stiles, I can't make a promise like that," Scott said, his own voice strained.

"No, no, no, please," Stiles pleaded, the rawness of his voice twisting something in Scott's chest. "Please, don't call him. Come find me. You can do it, he doesn't have to know. Scott, you can find me."

Scott bit his lip, fighting the urge to break down himself. "I don't know if I can do this," he admitted, feeling helpless.

Stiles went silent for a moment, his breathing heavy, each exhale shaky.

"Oh, I gotta call you back. I have to turn the phone off," Stiles said suddenly.

"Wait, Stiles, hold on, man," Scott tried to protest, but the line went dead before he could finish.

Scott immediately scrambled to get dressed, his hands shaking as he tried to call Isaac. Before he could even hit the button, Isaac burst into the room, his eyes wide with panic.

"Scott!" Isaac shouted, his voice frantic. "We have a problem."

Scott frowned, his heart skipping a beat. "What—"