State of Haliver, Mystic Hills, September 9, 2009.
Scott was standing in front of the sink, holding his toothbrush and moving it slowly while staring at himself in the mirror.
His hair was messy as usual, as if he had just woken up minutes ago, even though it was late.
He sighed as he raised his gaze slightly, focusing on his reflection, as if he wished his features would change into those of a handsome blond boy with blue eyes, and his thin build would turn into a strong muscular one.
Scott sighed and felt a slight envy toward some of his classmates at school—Matt Donovan, Tyler Lockwood, Jackson Whittemore.
Jackson was the star player of his school's football team and ridiculously handsome, and he was dating the most popular girl in school, Lydia Martin.
As for Tyler Lockwood, he was known for being the best athlete in the school, training in four sports and winning championships in all of them. He was the mayor's son—rich, handsome, strong—and girls fell for him.
And Matt Donovan was the most handsome boy in school without competition. He was also a professional-level football player, and most importantly, he was dating the most beautiful girl in school, Elena Gilbert… or at least, he used to.
Scott sighed again sadly and wondered when his turn would come to date a girl… or when his coach, Bobby Finstock, would finally acknowledge him and let him into the team.
Scott looked at his face again, and all he saw was his ordinary face, his unremarkable dark eyes, and his slightly crooked jaw—which he considered ugly, by the way. And that was it… no striking eyes, no smooth beautiful hair, no handsome features that made him stand out.
Scott sighed for the third time and went back to brushing his teeth again.
Shhh… shhh…
The sound of the brush was the only thing breaking the silence in the bathroom.
He reached out absentmindedly, grabbed a cup of water, and rinsed his mouth quickly before spitting into the sink.
Then he went back to brushing again, this time faster, as if he wanted to finish quickly.
He raised an eyebrow when he noticed a spot of toothpaste on his cheek and wiped it off lazily with his hand.
"Great…" he muttered quietly while looking at himself.
After a moment, he stopped brushing, rinsed one last time, then leaned forward and washed the brush under the water.
He lifted his head again and looked at himself in the mirror—this time for a bit longer…
Then he shrugged lightly, as if it wasn't worth thinking about—as his friend Stiles always said, he should accept the reality of being single and focus on improving himself.
Scott turned off the light and walked out of the bathroom.
He headed toward his room with heavy steps, but stopped when he heard a strange creaking sound.
Scott frowned, then heard a loud rattling noise outside.
"What the…" he whispered with fear and tension, then went downstairs and stood in front of the door, his shoulders tense.
He hesitated for a moment, then picked up his father's baseball bat near the door, opened it, and stepped outside.
Scott looked around but saw nothing.
"Strange… I swear I heard someone's footsteps," he said to himself, confused, then checked one last time.
When he saw no one, he sighed in relief and turned to go back inside—
But he was startled by a figure dropping upside down right in front of him.
A boy his age hung upside down, his feet hooked onto the house's drain pipe. He was suspended in the air, looking at Scott with a wide grin, then said:
"Boo."
"AAAHHH!!"
Scott screamed instantly in fear and hysteria and tried to hit the intruder with the bat.
"AAAH! Scott, wait—that's me!!"
The boy shouted in fear as he saw the bat about to hit him, shielding his head.
Scott stopped immediately, stepped back in shock, and looked closely—
It was his best friend.
"Stiles!! What the hell?! You scared me to death!"
Scott shouted angrily at his insane friend.
Stiles looked at Scott and said, "What am I doing?! What are you doing with a baseball bat?!"
"I thought you were a predator!"
"A predator? Really, Scott? A predator?!"
Scott went silent, then sighed and lowered the bat.
"What do you want, Stiles? It's midnight, for God's sake!"
Stiles smiled and said, "Okay, listen. I know it's late… but you need to hear this. I saw my dad leave twenty minutes ago. Dispatch called—they're bringing in every officer from Mystic Hills PD and even state police."
Scott looked at him in annoyance.
Stiles was the son of Sheriff Noah Stilinski, and he had an obsession with intercepting police radio signals and interfering in his father's cases. And as his best friend, Scott always found himself dragged into chaos.
"Why?" Scott asked.
The next moment, he wished he hadn't.
"Two joggers found a body in the woods," Stiles answered casually while pulling himself up and trying to free his ankles.
Scott felt nauseous. His stomach acid rose to his throat.
He stepped back, grabbed the railing, and immediately felt sick.
"Ugh…"
Stiles dropped to the ground with a light thud.
Scott looked at him and asked to confirm, "Wait… a body?"
Stiles rolled his eyes. "No, a lake."
Scott smiled hopefully. "Really?"
Stiles stood up with a smirk. "No, idiot. A dead body."
Scott frowned, feeling sick again. "You mean… like… murdered?"
Stiles shrugged. "No one knows yet. They said it's a woman in her twenties… maybe naked."
Scott swallowed nervously. "Wait… if they found a body, what are they looking for?"
Stiles grinned. "That's the best part. They only found half."
Scott's eyes widened in horror.
"Let's go," Stiles said.
Scott blinked. "Go? Go where?!"
"To find the other half, of course!"
"No! No way! I'm not doing that!" Scott said immediately.
Stiles looked at Scott with disappointment and said, "Scott! This is the first exciting case in months! Don't you want to find out what happened?!".
"No, Stiles! Maybe that woman was killed by some animal or something like that, and you want us to go into the same forest where she died?! No thanks, I'll stay home where it's safe!" Scott said firmly and fearfully.
Stiles looked at Scott with disappointment and then said, "I thought you'd have my back, Scott. Oh well, good night then."
Stiles passed Scott with slow steps, his shoulders slumped sadly.
Scott looked at his friend's back, then sighed, "Alright, Stiles, I'll come with you."
Stiles smiled sarcastically, his usual stance returning immediately, and the sadness disappeared from his face.
The emotional blackmail plan had worked.
Scott took out his inhaler and used it, then looked at Stiles and said, "You owe me a meal, Stiles, for this late-night drama."
Stiles patted Scott on the shoulder and said happily, "Of course, no problem. Let's go."
Stiles turned and headed toward the Mystic Hills Preserve.
Scott followed him, muttering, "I'm definitely going to regret this."
The trip to the preserve was tense and quiet. That was because Stiles—who usually talked a lot—was focused only on driving his jeep, while Scott stared out the window at the dense forest trees, which grew thicker with every passing minute as they moved away from the familiar buildings and houses of their town.
Scott looked at Stiles and said, "Why do you want to search for half a body at this time of night, Stiles? What could you possibly gain from that?"
Stiles glanced at him and said, "Because I'm bored, Scott. Think about it—when was the last time something like this happened in our town? I mean, a body cut in half?! Come on, Scott, you have to be at least a little curious about what happened."
Scott sighed. "Stiles, haven't you heard of the saying 'curiosity killed the cat'?"
Stiles smirked. "Well, it's a good thing we're not cats."
Scott shook his head helplessly and looked out the window again. He saw a large sign that read:
Mystic Hills Preserve — No Entry After Dark.
After a short while, the jeep stopped with the sound of brakes. Scott and Stiles got out.
Scott pulled his sports shirt over his head, and Stiles grabbed his flashlight.
They were as prepared as they could be… like two teenagers searching for half a body.
Scott looked at the darkness of the forest and said hesitantly, "Are we really doing this?"
Stiles raised an eyebrow. "You're the one who's always complaining that nothing ever happens in this town."
Scott replied, "Yeah, but when I said that, I didn't mean going out at midnight searching for half of a girl's body."
Stiles shrugged and patted Scott's arm. "That's life, Scott. It's full of weird situations. Now enough talking—let's go."
Stiles moved forward immediately with excitement, lighting the path ahead with his flashlight.
Scott sighed and followed him, muttering, "I was trying to get a good night's sleep before practice tomorrow."
Stiles, who heard him, mocked, "Yeah, because sitting on the bench is such hard work."
Scott went silent for a moment as the forest floor—dead leaves and moss—made soft sounds under their steps.
Scott said hopefully, "No, Stiles. I'll play this year. I'm sure of it."
Stiles tried hard not to laugh.
He and Scott were basically the definition of athletic failures. At least Stiles had good grades, but Scott was failing academically too.
Scott looked at him, annoyed. "Actually, I'm going to be the team's main running back this year."
Stiles looked at him in surprise, then said sarcastically, "Wow, Scott! That's the spirit! Everyone should have a dream—even if it's ridiculously unrealistic."
"Stiles!"
"Okay, okay—I'm sorry!"
Silence fell for a moment as they kept walking.
Then Stiles said slowly, "So… you're planning to take Jackson's spot?"
"Yes," Scott answered without hesitation.
Stiles shrugged. "Well, good luck. But if you try and fail, his bullying is only going to get worse, you know."
Scott said calmly, "I'm tired of Jackson bullying us, Stiles. I think it's time someone put an end to it."
Stiles was quiet for a moment. "Yeah, I'm tired of it too… but honestly, Jackson's not the worst kind of bully. At least he's never hit us. He just mocks us and humiliates us for no reason. I don't really care that much, to be honest. And besides… if there's one person good at sarcasm, it's me."
Scott didn't respond.
Stiles looked at him with slight sympathy.
They had talked about this before.
Scott's asthma wasn't going away, and steroids had done little to open his stubborn airways.
A violent sport like football was practically impossible—and everyone knew it. But Scott refused to give up.
He wasn't doing it for popularity. He genuinely wanted to play. He studied videos, read strategy books, and did his best.
Scott changed the subject. "Out of curiosity… which half of the body are we looking for?"
Stiles stopped. "Uh… I… didn't think about that."
Scott sighed. "And what if whatever killed her is still here?"
Stiles nodded. "That's also something I didn't think about."
"Great. Just great, Stiles."
"Hey! Be optimistic, Scott! Whatever leaves half a body behind probably left a long time ago… right?"
Scott sighed. "I hope so, Stiles. I really do."
Stiles took a deep breath and started climbing the hill ahead.
Scott followed, climbing behind him.
Stiles heard Scott wheezing and slowed down a bit so he could keep up.
"It's… comforting… to know you planned this… with your usual attention to detail," Scott said, panting.
"I know," Stiles replied proudly.
Stiles didn't mention the wheezing—he never did.
He always knew when Scott was having an asthma episode, and he could tell the difference between a mild and a serious one.
There was no need to point it out and hurt Scott's pride.
Scott already had a mother who criticized him constantly—he didn't need his best friend to do the same.
"Maybe the one with severe asthma should be the one holding the flashlight, don't you think?"
That was Stiles' way of telling him to stop.
Stiles went back to Scott and watched him take three quick puffs from his inhaler.
Once Scott caught his breath, Stiles handed him the flashlight with a small smile—like he was saying take the lead.
Scott smiled back gratefully. "Thanks, Stiles."
He took the flashlight and started walking more slowly through the forest.
But not for long.
As they neared the top of the hill, they heard movement—lots of movement.
Distant diesel engines… fire trucks… ambulances… faint red and blue flashing lights… barking police dogs… officers with flashlights moving in their direction.
Scott whispered, pointing, "Is that your dad?"
Stiles squinted. "Yeah… that's him."
He thought quickly. "Come on."
"Where are we going?" Scott asked, taking another puff.
Before Stiles could answer—
BARK! BARK!
Police dogs.
Fast footsteps approaching.
"Shit," Stiles muttered.
He and Scott hid behind a tree.
"Scott! Go! I'll handle this—they won't arrest me, I'm the sheriff's son!"
"Damn it, Stiles! I knew this would happen!"
Scott ran south.
Dogs barked violently.
"Who's there?! Freeze!" an officer shouted.
Stiles stepped out with his hands up. "I surrender!"
Stiles dropped to his knees and met his father's gaze.
Noah Stilinski looked at his son and sighed tiredly.
After telling the officers not to arrest him and to bring him to the car, he said:
"What were you thinking, Stiles? What are you doing in the woods at this hour? Do you want to get hurt?"
Stiles kept looking everywhere except his father's eyes.
Noah sighed again and said:
"Stiles, intercepting police radio signals and interfering in an investigation is a crime!"
"Okay, Dad, I'm sorry. I won't do it again. I was just curious about the dismembered body."
Noah replied:
"Haven't you ever heard the saying 'curiosity killed the cat'? You could have gotten hurt, Stiles!"
Stiles went silent, not knowing how to respond. Ironically, Scott had told him the exact same thing just ten minutes ago.
Noah sighed and rubbed his temples tiredly, feeling a headache forming because of this kid, then asked:
"Who was with you in the woods? Who else was there?"
Stiles answered nervously:
"Who? Me? I came alone. I didn't bring anyone with me."
"Stiles!"
"Believe me, Dad, I didn't bring anyone. I came alone."
Noah raised an eyebrow.
"Not even Scott?"
"Not even Scott."
"Alright. Let's get out of here."
Noah said tiredly, then started the car—
But stopped when he heard his son say:
"Uh… Dad, I parked my jeep a bit far from here."
Noah exhaled, trying to stay calm.
Stiles sighed and shook his head helplessly.
The mission had ended in complete failure.
He just hoped his friend made it home safely.
Meanwhile, Scott was running as fast as he could while using his inhaler at the same time.
"Stiles and his crazy ideas always get me into trouble… if my mom finds out, she'll kill me," Scott muttered to himself as he finally stopped after making sure no one was following him.
But before he could relax, Scott heard the sound of fast footsteps coming toward him.
"What the…" Scott said in confusion as he looked in a certain direction.
Then he saw a small herd of deer running toward him violently.
"Oh my God!!" Scott shouted in fear, then rolled on the ground and dropped flat, holding his head between his hands.
The deer ran violently and jumped over him, then kept running forward, completely ignoring him.
Scott stood up slowly, looking at the deer in shock, and whispered, "What just happened?"
Scott touched himself to make sure everything was okay, then looked at his hand and realized he had dropped his inhaler during the chaos.
"Great… just what I needed," Scott whispered to himself, then turned on Stiles' flashlight again and started searching for it.
Then he saw something that made his blood freeze in fear.
Because he saw a body cut in half.
A woman's body.
"AAAAAHHH!!"
Scott screamed in terror and extreme fear, then fell to the ground and vomited violently.
After a full minute of emptying his stomach, Scott looked at the body again with a trembling body.
The body was split, and only the upper half was visible. The lower half was missing, and the woman's organs were exposed, with worms crawling over them, and a foul smell spread from the corpse.
Scott held back his vomit and looked at the scene in intense fear, then cursed Stiles in his mind again.
"Damn Stiles and his ideas…" Scott groaned in disgust, then slowly stood up.
"Grrrr…"
Then Scott heard the growl of an animal behind him.
Scott's eyes widened in terror, and he slowly turned around.
Behind him was a massive creature.
Bigger than a black bear.
About three meters tall, walking almost on all fours.
Black as the night.
Its red eyes glowed in the darkness of the forest.
Like the eyes of demons from old stories.
Red like blood.
Glowing.
Scott felt a fear he had never felt before—it froze the blood in his veins.
When he looked at the creature, he saw his life flash before his eyes.
Even though his life was very short—only sixteen years—he saw everything.
Every memory he could remember.
The creature looked like a wolf.
But bigger than a bear.
And the intelligence shining from its eyes was unnatural.
"RAAAHHH!!"
The creature roared loudly, and the air trembled from the intensity of the roar.
Then the creature lunged at Scott.
"AAAAAHHH!!"
Scott screamed in extreme fear and, without hesitation, turned and started running as fast as he could.
But he was too slow.
BAM!
Scott felt a force hit him, and he slammed hard into the ground beneath him.
Scott groaned in pain and tried to crawl away from the predator.
Then he felt the creature behind him pulling him violently.
"No! No, please!" Scott begged in a very desperate voice, then felt the creature bite him hard on his side.
"AAAAAHHH!!"
Scott screamed in intense pain, his legs kicking the air randomly.
The creature smiled in satisfaction, then let Scott go.
Scott immediately got up and ran, stumbling without looking back, while holding the right side of his abdomen.
His blood soaked his clothes and covered his hand, but he ran with everything he had until he reached the main road.
Scott stumbled out of the trees and into the middle of the road.
He looked around in fear and shock, unable to believe he was still alive—
Then he saw headlights.
BEEEEEP!!
The car honked loudly and rushed dangerously toward him.
"AAAHHH!!"
Scott raised his hands in front of his face and screamed in fear.
The car swerved at the last moment with the sound of screeching brakes and tires scraping the road.
Scott slowly lowered his hands and looked around in shock.
He had survived for the second time—miraculously.
Scott tightened his face in pain, then slowly lifted his shirt.
And saw it.
A large bite mark on the right side of his abdomen.
"What the hell was that…?" Scott asked himself in fear and horror.