A/N: I decided I wanted to try something new. Dark and different and seriously an AU piece. I'll explain a few things at the end, parts with a * next to it will be at the bottom with *# 1, 2,3,etc. and will explain what is meant there. I haven't decided if I wanted romance to be in this piece(and no it is NOT a Sheriff Hale thing. Def not!) But still don't know if I want romance in there or not.*shrugs* Also I love reviews so give this story some love!
Heads up. Normal writing font is what's going on now. Bold and Italics will be with the Killer flashbacks that include abuse+sexual abuse+killings. Killer name for now until I reveal it shall be Sly.
Unbetaed. Disclaimer: I don't own Teen Wolf.
Rated M: for Language, drugs+alcohol, gore scenes, sexual abuse/abuse(flashbacks), deaths.
Full Summary: A string of murders happen in the small town of Beacon Hills and it has it's citizens fearing for their safety, their family's safety and anyone they know safety. Sheriff Stilinski and Deputy Hale are on the scene of the first case and will be till the last, whenever it may end. Even with Hale's werewolf senses he can't scent the murderer at all and it's makes the case all that much harder on him. Will the two officers be able to catch this serial killer before they lose someone close. Or have they already?
-The beginning-
The two police officers of Beacon Hills were enjoying their lunch until one phone call changed that and had the two leaving the diner before they got to finish their food. Climbing into the cruiser they shared and drove to the destination, down town of the Hills and arrived in no time thanks to their flashing police lights and sirens. As the cruiser pulled up slowly, the two officers looked at the crowd that was formed around an open edge of a dead end alley, the ambulance and another police cruiser were blocking whatever scene that was within from the gathering crowd. The two exchanged glances and sighed. Crowds were the worse especially if they didn't know what was going on. The two men climbed from the cruiser after the driver had parked it and cut the engine.
They walked around the crowd and came to face the owner of the police cruiser that sat next to the ambulance. "Sheriff! Deputy!" A younger man had shouted at them, a camera in hand and waving them over, so they moved pass the ambulance and what lay behind it was not a friendly scene. The other officer rubbed the back of his neck. "I should have warned you that it was bloody back here. But I couldn't really yell that with the crowd standing there." He said. "It's okay *Petri. Now give us what you got." Sheriff Stilinski told Petri, who held out a notepad. "That's all I've found out about the victim." Petri informed the two men as they both looked over the note pad.
Handing it back to Petri and moving to stand in front of the blooded scene of the dead male's body. His head was leaned back against the brick wall he was propped up against. Blood covered from his throat down, a considerable amount from the pale column of flesh, blood was also smeared on his face. His clothing was cut opened and underneath there were several lacerations and *Deputy Hale was positive that there were more the saggy and layers clothing was hiding. Petri stood next to them putting in put that wasn't written on the piece of paper they had looked at. "He's been like this for twelve hours and was found by a group of young woman a little over an hour ago. We questioned them and any one else that was around. We asked store owners, they didn't hear or see anything, that goes for customers and passing citizens." Petri spoke, *Sheriff Stilinski turned to look at him. "That all?" Petri nodded. "I tried attaining more information before you two got here, but nothing new." the officer answered, sighing.
"Did you find anything that would have been used to gouge his eyes out or sew his mouth shut?" Deputy Hale asked. "We searched the area without moving the man but came up empty handed. We couldn't even find his eyes, sir." Petri replied continuing. "We also dusted for prints, but that also left us empty handed. We followed a trail of blood to the end of the alley but it just disappears like the killer just walked into the wall or found a way out." Stilinski nodded slightly at the information that was told to him, as Hale moved towards the body and kneeling next to it the corpse. He had pulled out a pair of latex gloves and slipped them on. "Hale. What are you doing?" Stilinski asked, moving to stand behind the man as he watched Hale pick up a small round ball. Stilinski squinted his eyes to look at it than released his eyes from the squint. "What the hell is that?" Stilinski questioned, Petri was looking questioningly at the ball Hale held in his fingers.
Hale had started moving the trash bags around making a 'ah ha' sound as he grabbed another round object and held the two up for Petri and Stilinski to see. They were red and something was hanging off of them. "What are those?" Petri asked, Hale shook his head and held them to the corpse's face, where his eyes should be. "We just found our victim's eyes." Hale told them, motioning for something to put them in, one of the female medics, who he knew what Melissa McCall, came over with a body for him to put the eyes in. He nodded a thanks and took the gloves off, motioning towards the body. "Go ahead." Hale said, stepping out of the way, Petri and Stilinski did as well and the medics started on their job and were placing the body into a black body bag and closing it and hauling the body into the ambulance.
The ground was stained a brownish red from where the blood sat to dry. "Petri. Work on getting that crowd to dismiss from the area."Stilinski ordered, the younger man nodded and walked around the vehicles and worked on getting the people to leave and after some questions and 'no comment' was said, they all left. After a few more questions from the news reporter Mrs. Martin and only releasing the fact it was a man in his mid-forties and said nothing more could be said at this time. She tried getting him to say more but ended up leaving disappointed with no more information. "Sheriff, it's all clear now." Petri said to the oldest male who was walking towards him. "You may go."Stilinski said, Petri nodded, climbed into his cruiser and was off to the station to print the pictures out.
Stilinski and Hale walked to their cruiser, Stilinski in the driver seat, Hale in the passenger sit. Hale was pinching the bridge of his nose as he shut the door. Stilinski started up the vehicle and drove away from the scene. In the confines of their cruiser and no one to hear what they were going to speak about, it was like a free for all. "*What did you smell Derek?" Stilinski asked him, Hale dropped his hand to his leg and shook his head. "If you're asking if I smelled the murderer, I didn't. All I could smell was fear, the blood, trash, the man's slowly decomposing body." Derek shook his head. Stilinski frowned. "Damn. I thought for sure you'd be able to pick up the scent." Stilinski said, shaking his head slightly. "Was there anything else?" Stilinski asked, Hale shook his head. "Unfortunately nothing else. I'll be able to pick up the man's blood if it pops up somewhere it shouldn't." Derek told the older man, as Stilinski pulled into the station's parking lot.
-A week later-
Stilinski and Hale worked the whole week with Petri trying to find more information than what they already had, which was, that the victim was a homeless man, who's name was Jacob Riley, mid-forties and no living friends or family members. He had been homeless for six months after his wife passed and he couldn't keep up with the home bills and ended up moving on the street. He had gotten social security checks and welfare money which he would have to go to the post office to get. He was listed a a mentally disabled person as well. But there was no new information or any information that would lead to the man's murderer. Petri, Stilinski, and Hale studied the pictures. Whoever killed Mr. Riley was strong and very violent but by the looks of the cuts, it seemed to have played a game with the man before killing him off. They had learned that the man was sedated by something that wasn't recognizable and had some drugs in his system as well.
Today Hale drove the cruiser to the destination that was on one of Beacon Hills back roads that was longer to take if you were driving into the town. It was surrounded by trees and the call they received was from a female who was relatively calm until they had actually arrived and she started freaking out, and trying to talk with to many words mushing together and not completing her sentences. Stilinski dealt with the teen girl to calm her down and tried to get full answers to his questions, Hale was examining the body that had been nailed to a tree that was very close to the road. This man also had his eyes gouged out and mouth sewn shut like Riley had. Hale knew who this victim was despite the blood covered face. The ambulance arrived and McCall was talking with the girl who Stilinski found out was Lydia Martin, Mrs. Martin's daughter. After making sure the girl was going to be okay, she told her to head home or to a friend's house. Which she did.
McCall and the rest of her med team came to stand next to the two men. "How the hell does one nail a body to a tree?" one of the male medics asked, Hale known his name to be Ronald Miller, McCall walked closer to the body without disturbing the area around it. "Strength of good nails and help." She said, turning to see another cruiser pulling up. Petri. He parked and cut the engine, out of the car with the camera and got to work on pictures. "Who is he?" Petri asked, as the medics stood back. "A local bus driver, Jeremy Richardson, fifty. His eyes are gone too, but I don't think we'll have trouble finding them." Hale said, Petri looked over the body and shivered. The man's eyes were in his stomach resting atop of the organs staring out. "That's sick." Petri murmured as he continued to snap pictures.
"I don't know who could do such a thing." He went on. Hale and Stilinski studied the body of Richardson. He was gutted like a deer, his organs were hanging out still connected to the inside, the eyes resting on top staring out into nothingness and blood covered him along with the ground underneath him. Hale hoped they would be able to get the body down before anyone else would see this. It was something the weak stomach person could take, and the smell was none to pleasant either. "How long do you think he's been here?" Stilinski asked Petri, who was quiet for a moment thinking on the time. "No less then ten hours." Petri finally answered, stepping away and holding back a gag. Hale motioned for McCall and her team to take the body away. It had taken them an hour to get it down and into the back of the ambulance, Mrs. Martin just missing it. She looked pissed about it, but just turned around and left.
"Stilinski. I think we have a problem." Hale said, Petri turned his head to listen to Hale. Stilinski raised a questioning eyebrow. This whole thing was a problem. "What?" Stilinski asked, motioning for Hale to talk. "Riley and Richardson both have gouged out eyes and sewn shut mouths. That's no accident." Hale said, Petri's eyes widened. "Oh shit." He breathed, Stilinski understood what this meant. "We have a serial killer." Stilinski spoke softly, and Hale groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose. This was soooooooo bad and all three men had a feeling this wasn't the end of anything but the beginning of everything. Petri had left before them but they too left to return to the station. It was eleven at night when they got off their shifts and both decided going to a bar to grab a few drinks would bite their stress level out. Mostly Hale's though.
The two sat in a booth that was in the back and away from any prying eyes or ears. "What did you pick up this time?" Stan asked the werewolf that sat across from him. Derek sighed. "Fear, blood, earth, animals, another slowly decomposing corpse. Still nothing on the person who put Richardson there." Derek told the older man, taking a drink of his beer. Stan replicating this action and sighing after he swallowed the liquid down. "It's like they know what I am and know how to hide from me." Derek growled out, running a frustrated hand through his hand. Stan could understand Derek's anger. A werewolf unable to pick up a killer's scent made him feel helpless. Stan would to if he were a wolf and couldn't sniff out a murderer, especially a serial killer. "They can't hide forever. They'll fuck up somewhere and then we got them." Stan said, taking a gulped of his beer. "But how many more people are going to die until we can catch this guy? Or guys?" Derek asked him in utmost seriousness. Stan sighed, Derek had a very good point. How many were going to die before they were able to catch this sick person?
Stan had finished his first drink and had ordered another, Derek had done the same. There wasn't as much crime these days since Derek joined the force at twenty-three. The last big one was a year later when Derek had gotten to know the Sheriff and his son, Stiles. That big case was when Stiles disappeared. Kidnapped. Stan had his eight year old son taken from him without finding out until he returned home that day. A call to Derek and they spent that whole rest of the day searching for Stiles. Derek told Stan to stay home while he searched during the night, just in case Stiles returned. Stan argued with Derek that he wouldn't be able to see anything with the darkness, and Derek said he'd explain later. They had spent weeks, months trying to find the eight year old, but to no avail he was lost.
It turned into a year before the Sheriff went into a depression state and didn't come to work, barely ate or slept. Derek had to come over continuously to make sure the man ate, slept, bathed. It was the worse three months he seen the man who was like a father to him in. Derek had an idea he wasn't this bad when his wife died, because than he had Stiles and had to be the strong one for the both of them that dropped like a brick when the younger boy was gone. After Derek giving him one hell of a pepp talk and they talked, the Sheriff was back up and running. The two would drop everything to follow a tip, anything that would relate to the missing boy, but the last tip was three years ago and it ended up a dead end. Stan believed his son was still alive because he could feel it. He didn't believe he was dead. He hoped Stiles was safe, making his way back to Beacon Hills to return home.
The two off-duty officers had a few more drinks before calling it a night and headed home to sleep and hoping to find something new in the morning, hoping it wasn't going to be another dead body. But something that would lead to the serial killer or killers.
It was years since he had been here. In his home town, he lived in a neighboring state for many years before driving back to where he grew up for a number of years. It was nice to be back. Quiet as ever, no crime except some little feeble attempts of crimes but they were always caught. It was such a shame too, so under thought plans that would bust no matter what they tried to do. Hide or run. They'd still fail. Unlike Sly. He never gets caught. After all the small crimes he did in Washington and not get caught, inspired him to do something bigger..Much bigger. Killing his entire family. His parents and older sister.
He shed no tears when he took there lives. After all why would he after what they had done to him. After everything and his sister Julia did nothing. NOTHING to stop them from their abuse. Sly put up with it because he was afraid but that emotion flew out the door like many others when one decision at sixteen changed everything. The boy took their lives even when they begged for forgiveness and said they were sorry repeatedly. It didn't matter to Sly how many times they apologized, he would never forgive them.
It all started when he was ten, his father was picking up on drinking more, his mother wasn't home and less to say his father was a abusive drunk tied together with horny drunk. Julia, his older sister by five years, did nothing when Simon started to hit him, had kicked him to the floor, than dragged him by his neck to Simon's room where he had sexual abused Sly.
Sly had shivered as he stood out on the streets of Beacon Hills down town.
His screams were ignored and had been choked to stop the screaming, no matter how much struggling he had done, which caused more pain than the young boys body could handle, tears running freely from his dark colored eyes. After Simon was done, he had thrown the young boy violently to the floor, yelling at him to clean himself up and quit being such a little girl. Sly had ran from his 'father's' room to his, shutting and locking the door, collapsing to the floor, breaking down into more tears and sobs, curling in on himself, to block out what had just happened. Moments like this happened more and more and Sly wanted nothing more than to stop them but the fear stopped him from doing something. For six years he dealt with it. Until one fateful afternoon, he had grabbed a butcher knife from the kitchen and had attacked Simon with no mercy.
Slashing the man's skin, any exposed skin, any where the blade would land and be fatal. Sly aimed for the neck, slashing so much he actually decapitated the older man, he had even went so far he cut the man limb from limb, glad he decided to cut the man's manhood off when the man was still alive and awake for it. Screams muffled with Sly's arm, sure Simon had sunk his teeth into the flesh and he was bleeding but as the man's life faded, the grip of his teeth released and Sly sat on top of the decapitated torso. Covered in warm sticky blood. A crazed grin pulled at the teen's lips and he stood up as the door handle was being unlocked.
Ah, he's 'lovely protecting' sister Julia. She had head phones in, head rocked with whatever music she listened to and back turned towards her closing the door. Than it hit her. Something was wrong. She didn't turn around but slowly took out the head phones. "Dad? Sly?" She called out, she turned and Sly was in motion, before Julia could comprehend what had happened, a knife was plunged into the side of her neck, almost to the middle. Her eye's shown with fear, pain and surprise to stare down at her younger brother who was covered in blood, the smile on his lips scared her. "S-s-ly. W-what ar-are you d-oing?" Julia stuttered out, as her knees gave way to the pain. Sly laughed. It sound mechanical, disorientated, and something else the girl couldn't pin. It was nothing like the laugh she heard before he was ten.
"Why. Julia. Isn't it obvious? I'm killing you. Just like father." Sly said with a disorientated chuckle, Julia strained herself and her neck ignoring the pain to look at the body pieces scattered on the floor. "You. you killed him!" She exclaimed, coughing violently, her body was healing itself. "Oh no you don't! No fucking werewolf healing!" Sly exclaimed, pulling his arm back and swinging it forward with so much speed and strength that he took her head off, which flew, landed and rolled on the floor. Sly chuckled dangerously. "Try healing now you fucking Beta. That'll teach you to try and make me your fucking Omega." Sly snarled at the dead girl's head.
He wasn't an Omega, but he wasn't a Beta either. Three years ago she tried it and all it did was give him all the senses, strength and everything a werewolf had without becoming one-though he could grow claws and teeth- and the best thing was he had no scent either. It was great because no wolf would be able to sense him, that's why Simon didn't see it coming and neither did Julia and neither will his mother Robin. That woman only abused him and now it was her turn. He waited in the living room, caked in blood after having cut Julia limb from limb and sharpening the knife he used. The blood on him, the floor, the bodies dried. It was nine at night when Robin came home.
Her sense of smell was assaulted by her husband's and daughter's blood and fear, a screamed ripped it's way from her throat as she saw them, pieces of them on the floor. Her eyes shined a bright red as she followed the mixed blood scents to the living room to stare at her son, caked in his families blood. "You little fucking bastard! What the hell did you do!" She roared at him. Sly didn't flinch nor move, that crazed smile slowly making it's way to the teen's face again. "You know what I did. You saw it. ALL OF IT. You caused this. He caused this. She caused this. All my problems. Now." Sly stopped, spinning the knife in his hand, examining it, with the tip of the blade probing the skin at the end of his thumb. "Now I'm getting rid of my problems." He said, in her moment of confusion had her dead, Sly had moved so fast and stabbed her in her left side and yanked his hand hard to the right, slicing her in half.
Body dropping sickeningly onto the floor, blood pooling around his feet and the blood joining with the blood from the front lobby. He had sewn their mouths shut and gouged their eyes out, nailing them to the wall. That day he left the home. Showered, packed everything he needed, took the keys to the red jeep wrangler, packed it up. Leaving the house at the dead of night on his way to Beacon Hills.
Sly watched as the crowd moved away from the ambulance and the police cruisers figuring they wouldn't be told anything and well they weren't. Sly watched quietly, the officers talking. The names he picked up. Petri, Hale and Stilinski. Stilinski was older than the other two, Hale was younger than Stilinski but older than Petri so that meant Petri was the youngest. Sly started his jeep when Stilinski and Hale had climbed into their cruiser and followed them at a safe distance and turned but still followed them but being a block over. He grinned as the two of them talked about trying to locate the killer but Hale, who Sly figured out was a werewolf, couldn't find any scent of him whatsoever and well. Hale never would.
He was with them the next day on their next call. Hiding in the woods, eyes watching the scene. Hale was pissed, that much Sly could understand, and Sly also understood that Deputy Hale was sexy as hell but there was no hooking up with the enemy but Sly wouldn't deny that fact. Petri wasn't a bad looking guy either, and that red headed female who called them in. Yeah she was hot too. He stayed silent as they worked. He followed the two males to a bar, standing outside he was able to hear them. This was going to be so fun. Sly knew they would never find him. The teen knew how to get away with shit. After all, the death of his family was an amazing achievement for him. He smiled he should get a medal or something. He went home when the officers left. He'd give them a break for a few days or so before he gave them another dead body. He had to find his next victim after all. He wouldn't let them off so easily now.
-Murder #1-
Sly had been walking the streets of down town Beacon Hills and wondered down and alley way, it was darker in the alley way but he could tell there was someone in there. He was awake and Sly could smell the smoke of whatever the man was smoking. He sniffed the air, taking a deep breath and walked on till he was in front of the man, who had a very dim light sitting next to him. "What the hell you want boy?" The man asked him rudely. Sly shrugged, pulling something from his pocket. "Just wanted to try something new but didn't want to do it alone." He plopped down in front of the man who studied the teen. "It's like a mix of acid, weed and cocaine." Sly said, which caught the man's attention quick and it held.
"Great! You're interested." Sly said, happily handing the bag over to the man who took it and opened it. "What's your name boy?" The man asked. "Sly. Your's?" The teen asked watching the man pop the drugs into his mouth. "Jacob. Jake will do just fine." the older man answered, words slurring already, Sly snatched the bag back, with a grin. "Nice to meet you Jake. I. Sly will be your demise." He told the man, who looked at him questioningly, and swayed where he sat. Sly reached into his pocket and pulled a sewing needle and thick black thread from it and looped it in and leaned forward to sew the man's mouth shut, nice and tight and secure so they wouldn't pop pr pull loose. The drugs sedated the man's reaction and pain to the stitching, Sly replaced the items in his pocket.
"Now. For your eyes." Sly murmured, stretching a hand out, finger's digging into the man's eye sockets. He twitched occasionally, tried talking but he failed, he was failing at trying to fight free of the teen who was slowly killing him. Already one eye lost and the teen called Sly was going from black to dimly lit to black than seemed to bright to his one eye, which could see fingers reaching for it and prying it out of the owner's head. Sly dropped them on a garbage bag next to the man and they fell between it and the wall.
Sly took a long inhale and held it, savoring the smell of blood. "Such a sweet, sweet smell. I love it." Sly said softly, as he brought his hand back, claws extended out, he swung forward to the side, and there went Jake's life, gone just like that. Sly decided to have some fun with it, stabbed him and cut the man repeatedly as he kept slashing at the man's throat. It was an hour later where he decided to leave unnoticed, by walking towards the dead end of the alley dripping in blood and jumping up to the roof that awaited him. He made way to what he made his new home.
-Murder #2-
It was hours later when he met a bus driver named Jeremy Richardson. The man was perverted and Sly could tell he liked younger men, men or Sly should say boys around his age, so it wasn't hard for Sly to have the man to come to the woods to have some 'fun', Sly knew both their 'fun's' had far different meanings. Sly and him talk for only minutes before the man tried making his move. Sly and laughed at he moved out of the man's way and he bumped into a tree. Taking him by the neck and holding him up as he nailed the body of the human to the tree, who screamed out in pain. "Music to my ears." Jeremy had heard the teen say, his arms were burning in pain and so were his legs.
Sly knew it would take them at least an hour to detached the dead body from the tree. Sly took the needle and thread out, threaded it and held it out for Jeremy to see. "You scream, you're dead sooner than I would plan." Sly said, the man's eyes wide with fear. Sly smiled evilly as he worked on sewing the man's mouth shut, he was silent but tears streamed down the man's cheeks. Sly chuckled and backed up, studying his work. "Good. Good. Now you die." Sly states, growing his claws, teasing them on the man's stomach until he plunges it in and rips across, splattering himself in blood and the organs drop and hang loosely in the air. Sly wore blue scrubs that were already stained in blood from the first murder in Beacon Hills.
Jeremy had banged his head against the tree and eyes were tight shut but that didn't stop the pain. Sly pried the man's eyes open to removed the eyeballs. "You'll die in a few minutes." Sly informed the man, placing his eyes right on top of the organs on the inside of the body. He had sat there for hours watching the man, surprised that he was still alive but he died shortly after the fourth hour of Sly watching him and the teen went home, leaving Mr. Richardson to be found by the officers.
He had came back to watch them like the first. It was fun. A game to the teen boy.
Yes. That's chapter one done. I hope I wrote it well out and explained what was going on well.
*Petri- His the youngest officer in the three of him, Hale and Stilinski. He is 28(still in training-20-when Stiles disappeared.)
*Hale- He is the middle of Petri and Stilinski. He is 32. 24 when Stiles disappeared.
*Stilinski- He is the oldest of the three. He is 46. 38 when Stiles disappeared.
"*What did you smell Derek?" Stilinski asked him. -Stilinski knows Hale is a werewolf, and the Alpha. He is also aware of the two members of Hale's pack, Scott McCall and Jackson Whittemore.
REVIEW PLEASE! They are appreciated and loved! Plus the more reviews I get I may just reveal the killer in chapter 3 or 4. Still got like three more deaths to go and two other deaths and a lot more explaining to do, but you know*shrugs*that depends on the # of reviews this gets. ;D make me proud!
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