While rummaging through their late father's papers, Dean and Sam Winchester are surprised to learn that a little brother has been kept from them.
The latter, who is totally unaware that he descends from a line of hunters, lives in the small town of...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Stiles thought for a moment that he had lost his sight. He had woken up in total darkness where his eyes, searching for the slightest point of light, we're unable to get used to the darkness.
The teenager wanted to get up, had only been to check, in a last renewed hope, if his phone he no longer felt in his pocket, was still in its usual place. But no sooner had he got to his feet he felt himself drawn to the ground. His first reflex, though useless, was to look down at his wrists, which he couldn't lift more than a meter from the ground.
The boy felt his heart rise in his throat, a sign of an impending panic attack. In his haste and his discipline, he had not noticed the ice cuffs which hampered his wrists, cutting off his blood circulation so tight, on how they were chained.
So, although he knew how foolish and reckless he was to act like this, he cried out with all his might, screamed at the loss of his voice, letting his tears run down his cheeks already wet with swear and moisture.
"Hey!" He shouted. "Hey! Is someone there? Please!"
What did he have to do with disturbing his jailers and facing their anger? He was going to go mad if he had to spend another second in complete darkness, in complete ignorance. He had to know. To know why he had been deprived of his freedom, separated from his family and friends, then chained to the wall.
Seeing that there was not even an echo of a response to his lamentations, the young man folded his knees against his chest, which he encircled with his arms, which rattled those chains which held him against his hold. It was cold. Unless it was fear that made him tremble so much.
The teenager forced himself to breathe. He had to think lucidly, he who needed his whole head more than ever. Thus, after having calmed the beating of his heart somewhat, he found, using the little judgement that had not yet given up on him, that he was indeed in a cellar. Which could explain the darkness, humidity and freezing temperature.
He was alone, chained in a cellar where sooner or later he risked dying of hypothermia. Not to mention the silence that risked exploding his eardrums at any time.
Then, with an intense feeling of loneliness which broke his heart, the boy burst into tears.
*****
'Stiles Stillinski has been missing for almost 36 hour's'
These words echoed in Deans spirit like a life sentence. He had failed in his duty. This kid was his baby brother and, like Sam, he had not been able to protect him.
"What do you mean? What happened?"
The sheriff's assistant, called Parrish if one could trust his plate, did not have time to answer. Instead, he rose from his seat, his gaze glancing behind the two hunters.
In fact, the door of his superior's office had just opened with a crash and the two brothers turned around just in time to see a man come out, in the uniform of the police, who was heading towards his second, a mournful mine clings to the face.
