Where did all that quietude fall from, all of a sudden? It was provoking, infuriating not to know what was brewing behind the scenes.

Not that Stiles missed that monster's voice. In fact, he'd do well without ever having to hear it again. The young man knew however, that he wasn't in the clear, still. He struggled to pull his own weight, which forced him to rely on the steadiness of the walls around him, his hands gliding along the surface, left then right each at their turn in order to expedite is body forward.

His eyes finally landed on a sign, above a double doored exit, validating his sentiment of progress making.

The relief was short felt in any case, when he was close enough to actually read the sign. He realized it didn't exactly say 'exit' but 'xeit'. Stiles felt his blood freeze in his veins, then a burning sensation began to arise in the pit of his stomach, quickly followed by a bitter taste reaching the back of his throat.

" Think you're dreaming, Stiles?" Despite his queasiness, he fought back the urge to vomit right there, he ignored the throbbing in his head and pushed past the plea of his sore muscles as he doubled his efforts to reach the doors, because although the voice was far-sounding after the miles of interminable hallway he left behind him, he still didn't want it to gain any distance on him.

He could hear it giggle then laugh, then giggle again. It didn't sound worried the slightest about letting him get away. Stiles sweated his way to those gates, practically throwing himself onto them once he felt they were realistically close enough. He expected to be struck by harsh lights but none of that was.

Instead... Darkness greeted him with open arms. He squinted his eyes trying to ajust his sight to the new found obscurity. He felt the weak breezes of cold air graze his skin. They carried a woodsy fragrance along with the scent of damp moss on a grassy earth to his nose. He knew he was standing in the middle of a forest according to those hints alone.

"Good old times! I spent a few years in this stupid tree trunk, it's like a second home to me..." one could hear a hint of nostalgia in that demon's voice. One could fall for the ruse if they didn't know that trickery was a full fledged piece of kitsunes, and worst of them all, nogitsunes, chaos and strife being their main nutrition sources.

Stiles could finally view his surroundings, the tree trunk that the nogitsune was talking about was none other than the 'nematon'.

Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

"Doesn't it feel like home to you Stiles?" he adopted a more of a mocking tone when he said that.

Stiles didn't say a word, he settled for breathing in all the oxygen he could take. He seemed almost afraid there wouldn't be enough to keep him alive.

" Why the long face? Not happy with something?"

" Reasons for me to be happy?" Stiles had unglued his lips and articulated his tightly clenched jaws to begrudgingly utter those words.

" Well, beggars can't be choosers," one minute it sounded like the voice was coming from behind him, then the other it sounded like it was speaking to Stiles from the front. He began to frantically look around himself, trying to catch a glimpse of his foe, but... An echoey voice was all it was, or so it seemed.

****

"This stupid night is really... very... long," Malia heavily struggled to push those words out of her throat as she groaned in pain. She slowly craned her neck and looked in her father's direction. He seemed to regain his consciousness at the same time as her.

"You think?" Peter brought his hand up towards the warm liquid pooling on his forehead, he then took a look at his red stained fingers, which confirmed that he was bleeding.

Malia carefully unbuckled her seat belt, while pushing on the top of the car with the remaining free hand to prevent herself from falling on her head, the car was upside down after all. She then slowly turned to the side in order to kick the door off its hinges at a better and more advantageous angle.

As soon as she'd crawled outside, she felt a strong hand tightly grab her by the throat, slowly crushing her windpipes and lifting her off the ground. She was finally at eye-level with the berserker attempting to snuff her out of life. She flailed and thrashed her legs around as she desperately gasped for air to breath.

Right when her sight grew blurry, she felt a great mass smashing into both her and the berserker holding her up, and the three bodies were sent crashing to the ground with force.

Peter rushed towards his daughter the moment he stood back on his feet, gently but hastily tugging on her arm, he'd thrown his entire body weight on the monster to wrench her out of its grip, "Malia! C'mon, we need to get outta here!" he tried to help her up.

They limped as fast as they could to take refuge in the thickness of the forest, between the trees.

"It's not alone," Malia stated in her panting.

"Somebody brought them here," added Peter.

"Where is here? What the hell is this place anyway?"

"I don't know about that but... I only know of one creature that can control berserkers," Peter said, before they heard another low growl coming at them upfront. They stopped and switched to running in another direction.

"Think she's back?"

"Know of any other werejaguar?" Peter threw out.

"We better keep on running for now,"

"This is ridiculous! This is the second time tonight!" Peter whined as they attempted to find their way out of that... Long night.