Stiles took careful steps forward, hearing the leaves crunching underneath his feet. He waved his flashlight around, trying to see if he could spot what he was looking for.

His best friend, Scott, peered at him with glowing eyes. He himself didn't need a flashlight, as he now had built in night vision, courtesy of Peter Hale.

"I️ take it that you learned nothing from the first time we did this," Scott remarked.

Stiles continued moving forward.

"Yeah, well, you came out here with me, so I️ take it that you didn't either," Stiles replied.

Scott shook his head.

"You know I️ wouldn't let you go out here alone to get attacked by whatever's on the loose," Scott said.

Stiles nodded.

"You mean the vampires," he said.

Scott rolled his eyes. The perpetrator of the recent attacks had been a source of debate between the two friends.

"Stiles, we've been over this. There's no such thing as vampires," Scott reiterated.

Stiles turned to face Scott, holding the flashlight in his face to get a better view of him, causing

Scott to squint and turn away.

"C'mon, seriously? Dead bodies found with bite marks on their necks completely drained of blood has to equal vampires," Stiles said.

Scott rolled his eyes again.

"Yeah, okay, whatever man. Let's just keep going," Scott replied.

With that, Stiles maneuvered his flashlight to see in front of him once again.

Scott soon held an arm out in front of Stiles, stopping him in his tracks.

"Scott, what is it?" Stiles asked, only to be hushed by his friend. This only prompted him to ask again with growing impatience.

"I️...I️ think I️ saw something," Scott finally responded.

Stiles gestured for him to elaborate, only to get no reply.

"Okay, Scott, what exactly do you think you saw?" Stiles asked.

Scott shook his head, swallowing.

"I don't know. It was moving too fast. But I️ don't think we're alone out here," Scott said.

Everything that happened next was too fast even for Scott's werewolf instincts to react to. Stiles suddenly dropped his flashlight and was gone without a trace.

Frantically, Scott whipped around in search of his friend.

"Stiles? Stiles!" Scott called out in a panicked frenzy.

He then decided to go by scent to search for his friend. He scanned the woods, trying to gauge the direction that Stiles went to.

Eventually, he caught the scent of Stiles, along with that of fresh blood, causing him to grow even more alarmed.

When he finally found Stiles, he was on the ground, groaning in pain.

"Stiles! Stiles, are you okay?" Scott asked.

Stiles hissed in pain, absentmindedly touching a hand to the side of his neck before nodding.

"Yeah. Yeah, I️ think so," Stiles replied.

Scott bent down slightly, extending an arm and holding out his hand to the other.

Stiles took his hand before being sprung to his feet by the werewolf.

Gently, Scott guided Stiles' other hand away from his neck. He examined it, seeing blood trickling from his neck that now stained his palm.

"What happened?" Scott asked.

Stiles opened his mouth to speak, before stopping, silent. He blinked a few times before slowly shaking his head in disbelief.

"I️...I don't know," Stiles replied, brows furrowing in confusion.

Clearly something had attacked him, but it was almost as if one minute he was standing next to

Scott and the next he was bleeding out on the ground with nothing in between.

"You didn't see what attacked you?" Scott asked.

Again, Stiles shook his head.

"No," he said.

Scott sighed before nodding.

"Alright, well let's get you home before whatever it is comes back."