**A/N: Warning - Contains spoilers from season 5 of Teen Wolf. This is a combination of my Post Nomadic, Half-Vampiric series (Teen Wolf/Twilight) and Stephen King's Pet Sematary.**
"I'll see you when I get home." My girlfriend, Summer, told me. She planted a kiss on my cheek. Her lips were warm like the rest of her skin, a trait of her partial-vampirism. I swiftly kissed her lips before she opened the door. "See you later, Stiles." She headed out the door to go work. I had the day off so I searched the house for something to occupy me while she was gone. I decided to watch Batman Returns which was one of our favourite films to watch together. Just as I popped the disc into the player, my phone rang. Sighing, I answered the phone.
"Hello?" I spoke.
"Hey, Stiles." The voice of my best friend, Scott, greeted. "What are you doing?"
"Watching a movie." I replied. "Why?"
"I was wondering if you wanted to chill." Scott suggested.
"Yeah. Come over, I'll order a pizza." I invited him.
"Okay, see you in a few." He hung up. I called my favourite pizza place and put my movie away.
The pizza arrived shortly after Scott did. We watched a Lacrosse game as we ate the pizza, reminiscing over our high school Lacrosse days. Scott had been an excellent Lacrosse player whereas I had not. Then again, Scott was technically cheating because he had enhanced werewolf powers. How I managed to get with a girl like Summer Blake, I had no idea. I was never good at any sports, I hadn't been extremely good-looking and I hadn't payed much attention in class. My personality consisted of ADHD, nerdy references and terrible jokes. That's why I had Scott. He put up with my shit just like Summer did.
Scott and I spent the day playing video games like the adults we were and watching movies.
"Holy shit, dude!" Scott gasped. I paused the film, looking at him with confusion.
"What?" I questioned.
"It's ten thirty!" He told me, staring at his phone. Goosebumps ran up my arms.
"Ten thirty? PM?" I asked.
"No, AM." Scott rolled his eyes. "Yes, PM. Allison is probably worried sick!" There was a knock at the door, sending chills down my spine. Normally I would've made a joke about Allison kicking Scott's little werewolf ass, but I was too worried.
"Summer was supposed to come home at six." I swallowed the bile coming up in my throat, making my way to the door.
"She probably just met up with a friend for or something." Scott guessed.
"Yeah, yeah. Maybe she mentioned it to me and I forgot." I responded as my hands trembled. My shaky hands gripped the doorknob and twisted it, exposing the visitors outside. The familiar face of Deputy Parrish, the Hellhound, stood outside, looking grim. I shook my head, dreading the words I so desperately hoped I would never hear.
"Stiles Stilinski." Parrish started, swallowing his own emotions. A tear swam down the side of my cheek. "There was a fight. Summer was attacked by some nomads passing through."
"D-did she make it?" I choked out.
"I'm afraid not. Her injuries were too much." Parrish responded. He continued speaking but I couldn't hear a word he was saying. I suddenly felt Scott's arms lowering me to the ground as I fell to the floor. Agony filled me as tears soaked my face. Scott's own eyes were filled with tears as he had lost a friend. I had lost the love of my life. I sobbed on the cold tile floor where Summer had walked everyday.
"Who did this?" Scott asked Parrish.
"I don't know. I didn't see anything. Lydia sensed it. She called me but it was too late." He sighed, referring to the Banshee who could detect death before and when it happened. "She doesn't know who did it either."
"Thank you, Jordan." Scott nodded as I continued to clutch his arm, letting the tears fall to the tiled floor. Eventually the Deputy left, leaving Scott and I on the floor in the home I would never view the same.
The days went by slowly, each just as agonizing as the last. The pain never dulled and the sadness never left. The Sheriff who was my father and Deputy who knew about the supernatural finally let us bury her. The whole pack came along: The Cullen family including Bella who had raised Summer, Chris Argent the hunter who was also Allison's father, Parrish, my father, Lydia, Scott, Melissa and Allison McCall, Malia the werecoyote, Derek, Hayden and Liam the werewolves, Kira the Kitsune, Corey the Chimera and Mason Hewitt the human. Even Brett Talbot and Lorilee Rohr the werewolves joined. We all gathered in the Indian burial grounds that Summer loved to visit. Kira's father, Ken Yukimura, had warned us not to bury her here but we hadn't listened. We just wanted to bury our friend, packmate, sister, girlfriend, daughter, whatever she was to someone.
We dug a hole in the earth. Once the grave had been dug, we lifted her body bag and gently placed it in the grave. I wiped the tears escaping my eyes, staring at the grave I never thought I'd dig. I felt fury towards whoever did this to her. She was only just starting to live, to allow herself the life she wanted rather than one of moving and depression. Allison and Lydia gave me a pained expression. Esme Cullen sobbed tearless sobs at the loss of her adopted daughter. Everyone here was filled with sadness and loss for they had lost someone close to them. We were all one big family and we had lost a member.
We filled in the hole, saying our final goodbye to someone we loved so much. Together, we left the grounds and went to our homes to think about what we had had to do today.
When I arrived home, there was a knock on the door. I swung open the door to find my neighbour. He was an old man full of superstition. If only he knew that when I brushed off his werewolf ramblings, I actually believed him.
"Hey, Randall. What can I do for you?" I asked politely even though I was dying inside.
"I just wanted to tell you I'm sorry for your loss." He apologized. My lips tightened, fighting the pain. We had spread the word that she had gotten attacked by a bear while camping because we couldn't tell people the truth.
"The burial was today." I told him.
"Oh my! Had I known, I would've come along. I'm so sorry." Randall gasped.
"No, it's fine. It was quite a climb. We went up that steep rocky hill by the creek." I explained. Randall had arthritis that prevented him from extensive exercise.
"You didn't go to the Indian burial grounds, did you?" Randall's eyes narrowed.
"Yeah, we did. I thought we were the only ones who knew about that place." I responded, amazed.
"Stiles, please tell me you did not bury her in the Indian burial grounds." He had wide eyes, making me wonder what was so bad about those grounds.
"We did." I admitted. "Why? What's wrong?"
"The burial grounds are...haunted. The dead don't rest there. The spirits get angry." He started.
"Then what happens?" I asked.
"They come back." He answered.
"What?" I gasped.
"They come back from the dead, but be warned. They're not the same. They're aggressive and angry. It is a very dangerous thing." Randall explained. I found myself believing him for some reason. Maybe it was because weird things like ghosts and zombies weren't so far off from werewolves and vampires which inhabited Beacon Hills, California.
"So you're saying that Summer is just going to show up one day and get mad at me?" I clarified.
"It's probably much worse than that, Stiles." Randall replied.
"What do you mean 'probably'?" I wondered.
"It's never been done on a human." He responded with a grim face. "Only animals."
"What happened to the animals?" I asked him.
"They attacked their owners and often had to get put down." He said. I didn't say anything. I wasn't sure if he was just joking or being superstitious. "Be careful, Stiles." Randall made his way down the driveway and returned to his own home. I called Scott to tell him about Randall's words.
"Hey, Scott. Do you remember my neighbour, Randall?" I asked through the phone.
"Yes, the old man, right?" He clarified.
"That's the one." I confirmed. "He just told me we shouldn't have buried her up there."
"Why?" Scott asked.
"Apparently when someone or something gets buried up there, it doesn't stay dead. They come back and they become really aggressive." I explained.
"Maybe he's just being superstitious?" Scott guessed.
"He sounded pretty serious." I told him.
"I'll come over just in case." Scott assured me. I thanked him and ended the call. I knew he was just coming to comfort me, but I was nervous. Part of me wanted her to come back so I could see her again, but the other part of me knew it was better for her to rest peacefully.
Scott arrived, letting himself in. We both fell asleep, Scott on the couch and me on the floor. A knock sounded at the door, jolting us both awake. Scott's eyes widened.
"It smells like death." He told me. The door burst open to reveal the blonde-haired beauty I fell in love with in high school. I gasped and so did Scott.
"Stiles, sorry I'm late." She apologized, entering the house. "Traffic." Tears filled my eyes as I smiled at her. She was perfectly fine. Randall had been wrong. She was a bit dirty and bloody, but she was the same old Summer I knew. There wasn't an ounce of aggression. I crossed the room to hug her.
"Stiles..." Scott warned. Summer shot him a glare. I wrapped my arms around her, feeling the familiar warmth that radiated from her pale skin. She hugged me back, resting her head against my chest.
"Stiles!" Scott screamed, tackling Summer.
"Scott! What the hell?" I screamed. Something clattered to the floor. My eyes travelled over to the object, which was a knife. My eyes bulged and my lip quivered. Randall had been right. I ran to grab the knife but Summer kicked Scott, sending him flying across the kitchen. She grabbed the knife and threw it into Scott's back. He fell to the floor, pulling it out of his back. She charged again, taking the knife from him and continuously thrusting the knife into his skin. Blood spurted from Scott's mouth as the life left his body. I choked on my own tears, realizing what I had caused by burying her where I did. I ducked below the counter as she launched the knife towards me with tremendous force. It stuck into the cabinets. I grabbed a knife of my own, preparing to defend myself. I knew there wasn't much luck in my way because I was a human and she was half-vampire. She sprang over the counter, standing over me. I took a deep breath, preparing to die. I wouldn't be able to stab her. The knife wouldn't go through her. I had to use Scott's claws. As the idea formed in my brain, I swiftly crawled away over to Scott's lifeless body. I grabbed his hands which had claws sprouting from his fingers. Summer charged again. She dived at me with a serrated blade in her hand. I jammed Scott's clawed fingers into her abdomen and blood dripped from the fresh wound. She looked at me with an expression of betrayal.
"I'm sorry, Summer." I cried. Though I knew this wasn't her, I was sorry her spirit couldn't rest. She drove the steak knife into my shoulder, causing pain to explode from the wound. I gasped as she violently ripped the knife out of my shoulder. I screamed at the searing pain from the torn flesh. Summer brought the knife against my throat and I closed my teary eyes. The cold metal glided against my throat slowly, leaving a dull pain then darkness.
"Goodnight, Stiles." Was the last thing I heard before darkness fully consumed me.