The rain was hitting the high school windows hard, a perfect melody next to your violent footsteps through the empty corridors. The moon shone in its splendor, mocking your loneliness.

Fear invaded you and left a delicious trail for your pursuer. Stiles. Well, you know it's not Stiles. Or that's what you want to think. You had heard warnings from Mccall and other members of the group warning you to stay away from Stiles and, if you see him, call Scott. Your phone had ended up muddy on the floor of the parking lot, so you were alone and without a mode of transportation.

You know there aren't many hiding places in high school, but you still try to save your life. As you turn the nearest corner, you sneak into an empty classroom, praying that he won't find you.

One second, two seconds, three seconds. In which you can only hear your agitated breathing and the beating of your heart rushing through your veins.

The door opens with a sudden movement, revealing the terrifying image of the new Stilinski. His dark circles, his pale skin, his dark soulless eyes and, above all, his typical smirk that at some point was harmless. His laughter triggered your liquid nerves, paralyzing you against the icy windows.