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Thunders roar unusually over the city of Beacon Hills. As the clouds rolled in, people began making their way for shelter. Buildings began closing early so that employees could too get out of the rain. Further off towards the edge of town was also affected. The mental institution there, Eichen House, began locking up and putting away inmates.
As most of the inmates found their way back into their cells, one still remains down by the showers, standing under a shower-head, water running cold. He didn’t seem to care though. Whiskey colored eyes staring down at his feet, watch as the water swirled down the drain. He didn’t even seem to flinch when a broad hand slid down his taunt stomach and grabbed at him. With a shuddering breath he felt the pull of desire and lust, but not of his own. He then felt lips ghosting his ears, whispering,
“Time for bed, my Stiles.”
With a yank at the tabs, the water shuts off, and the man wraps possessive arms along the boy’s waist. He dries them both off with little care and haphazardly puts on their attires, knowing full well that clothes won’t be a problem later.
Making their way out of the shower room, the man, Brunski, as his tags says, nods his head to other orderlies under him, all of them knowing full well what is to transpire soon. The boy, Stiles, just remains in his daze state. They walk down a flight of stairs down to Stile’s room. Once pass the several security gates, the two made it into the room. The younger man was placed gently into his bed. The man, however, had other plans.
With his eyes still glazed over, the boy didn’t seem to be aware of what was happening to him. This benefited Brunski as he lifted up the boy’s shirt, attaching his mouth to the young one’s nipple. The boy could only gasp slightly, even as Brunski push his hands into the former’s pants, grabbing him again albeit more roughly than before.
“I’m gonna have fun with you, Mischief.”
Just then, as lightning literally strike, Stiles’ eyes shown a fantastic pinkish-red color as a silent scream clawed at his throat. This, however, did not prepared Brunski with the powerful shockwave that erupted from the boy’s head, knocking the man back and putting cracks into the walls. As it continues to expand, the wave fills Brunski and whoever else nearby with thousands of painful screams.
Now awake more than ever, the pink-eyed boy stood up from his cot and left the room, leaving the poor man to writhe in pain. As he left the room fixing his clothes, the gate at the end of the hallway buzzes open. Looking at the newcomers Stiles look at them and knew what to do.
When the first orderly came, Stiles went in for the first punch, going for his Adam’s apple. The moment the man choked, Stiles grabbed his shoulders and maneuvers him to the next guy. As those to collide with the wall, a third orderly came, but like before Stiles was still ready. This time he allows the guy to grab him by his shirt and lift him up. Taking his chance Stiles shoved two fingers into the orderly’s eyes, blinding him and releasing his grip. In his crouch, Stiles swept his feet and knock him onto his back. He got up quickly to kick the guy in the head. This victory was short lived when the last guy grabs Stiles from behind. He didn’t even get a chance to struggle before an electrical baton was jammed into his back. It stays there for a few second with Stiles screaming in agony. Once he let go the boy fell onto the ground, trying his best to get away.
He didn’t get far before the orderly grabs him by his hair and gave it a yank. “You’re not going anywhere, pretty.”
“Who says it’s me whose going?” Stiles cough out. The man didn’t get a chance to demand what he meant before he heard someone yell.
“It has been a long-time brother.”
Turning around, the orderly was shocked to see his brother there behind them. Especially, considering he had died four years ago. He could only watch in fear as his brother made his way over. “What is it little brother? Scared? Why should you be? I mean were you not just showing this kid how macho you are? Where was that guy back then, huh?” The orderly felt his brother grab onto his scrubs before pushing him into the wall. “It’s been a while, hasn’t it? Why not bring back some memories, shall we.” There was no question there. He began punching the orderly repeatedly. All the while, Stiles just watch from the side, eyes still glowing. He watches as the orderly was inadvertently beating his own self.
Turning on his feet, Stiles reaches down and unclips one of the many badges from the fallen men. Looking at each door, the boy began looking into each one before walking to one three doors down from his own. With a swipe of the key card, the door opens itself to reveal a naked man trap in ice. Walking up to the shivering man, Stiles whispers to the man through his thoughts, “Time to wake up. Wake up. You are no longer in ice. Melt.”
With those thoughts, Stiles watches as the ice began to glow a bright orange as steam began to come off of the ice. It didn’t take long before the man began to literally break out of his icicle cocoon. By the time he was out, a powerful roar rang through the cell. “What are you?” he growls.
“A friend, hellhound,” he replies. “Now come with me. I don’t like to be kept waiting.”
Without waiting for an answer, the boy just left. Soon enough the hellhound caught up and the two began making their way to the ground floor. “Where are we going?” the man growls.
“Isn’t it obvious?” Stiles asks rhetorically. “We are leaving. I know of a safe place that we can go to.”
“But why me?”
Stopping in his step, the boy turns towards the flaming man. “Because Halwyn, you and I share a common enemy, and I need you to be there to take out these hunters.”
“And why would I do that for you?” he asks with a raised brow. This just got him a smirk in return.
“Well this of course.”
Moving his hands to the man’s face, Stiles extends two fingers from both hand and touch Halwyn’s temple. Looking through his mind, Stiles found the thing he was looking for: a door of sorts. Letting his power pulse through, the telepath opens his eyes to see Halwyn’s eyes burning. No longer burn orange but rather a yellow as the sun.
“What did you do to me?” he asks astonished.
With a shrug, Stiles answers, “If you’re going to be on my team, then you’re going to need something more than a bonfire to win.”
“You said, hunters were who did this to you.”
“The one and only, Gerard Argent.” Hearing a growl, he couldn’t help but ask. “Know him?”
“Not directly, no.”
“Well, I’ll tell you all about him, once we get out of this hellhole.” Turning on his heal, Stiles lead the hellhound towards the exit where they were intercepted by security. Though, they didn’t even get to move a finger before all of them fell, all of them holding their head and screaming with agony. “Pathetic.”
Stepping into the rain, the two stop right in front of the metal gates, all locked and electrified. “Would you like to do the honors?”
Walking right in front of the boy, Halwyn began to feel more in control of his inner beast, his inner fire. Finally putting some thought into it, he shot his hands out, bright light blasting outwards covering everything in light. Once the light diminishes, the two stared at the gaping hole in the remnants of the gates. Alarms began blaring. Stiles turns around, and Halwyn watches as several shockwaves shot from the boy into the building.
“There that should keep them busy for us to escape.” Unfortunately, the amount of power he used had drain him, leaving him quite fatigue. Halwyn barely managed to catch him. “Take us here.” With another touch to his forehead, Halwyn lifted the boy up in a bridal hold and began running through the rain, the unknown destination already burned into his memory.