an: i dont own teen wolf or it's characters but i do own my ocs. please leave feedback, what works and what doesn't, so that each chapter will be better than the last :) reviews keep me going. also, this is un-beta'd
EDIT 10/5/17: rewritten! pov change, tense should be more consistent, stuff added in
A safe life is a steady life. It is predictable. A person does the same thing every day and any attempts at shaking things up, at adding some variety, is minor at best. What people know is proven to be okay, and if they value personal safety over all else, then that monotony is bearable.
The past few years, starting school, starting and ending winter break, have been uneventful. You see, monotony was something Ashton could handle. Monotony was better than death. It was better than pain.
Then routine changed, monotony was gone, and life wasn't so safe anymore.
One night was all it took. The most eventful night she'd had in years, and she was unconscious for a good portion of it. Typical.
Jan 28, 2011
The interior of the bookstore was quiet and still in the way a small space occupied by two people shouldn't be. Poorly lit in some areas, the overhead lights shone an aged yellow, flickering sporadically. The light caught on the dust motes that swirled in the air. Ashton closed her eyes for a moment. Benny needed to change the bulbs, this was ridiculous. Fix the heating while he was at it, maybe then she'd finally ditch the cold that lined the length of her spine no matter how many hoodies she bundled up in. And upgrade to digital clocks. This lethargic ticking was getting on her nerves.
She pouted, the bout of internal complaining doing nothing for her sour mood, and slouched down in the rolling chair behind the front desk. She rolled back and forth, sneakers squeaking against the gray tiles.
9:05. A Friday night after a long week of school and work – if it were any other Friday the store would be locked up and she'd be heading home. She didn't need to be in too much of a hurry, since she had no plans and, quite frankly, never had plans. But she wasn't about to wait around for some asshole who burst into the store ten minutes before closing, promising that he'd 'only be five minutes'.
"Five minutes, my ass." She grumbled, standing up.
Her hand brushed over the countertop as she walked, the other coming up to make sure the keys were hanging from their lanyard around her neck. It was so quiet; the faintest whistle of her breathing combined with her footsteps and the ticking of the clock made up the only noise. She pulled in a deeper breath, the musty scent of old books stretching and settling in her lungs. Yes, it was too quiet, and if he wasn't picking out a book, he was being booted out ASAP.
She swept through the aisles, not once, but two times. He wasn't there. There just wasn't enough space for him to hide, even with all the bookshelves and haphazard piles.
She turned in time to catch his figure darting out the door. He'd hunched over awkwardly, arms wrapped tight in front of him. Like he was holding something—like he was hiding something. He was gone before she could see what it was, but her heart had already dropped.
"Hey!"
The aisles and piles tripped her up in her haste to catch up, but once she was out of the shop, she sprinted like she was made of wind itself. With the sun long set and mid-winter chill set in, her breath streamed out of her mouth and hung into the air behind her.
Lucky for Ashton, but the would-be thief's breath lingered too.
He kept a solid lead, and every turn he made was an instant stab of panic right through her chest, until she made the same turn and had him in her sights again.
Beacon Hills wasn't a big city, but in the thick of it were plenty of alleys and winding side streets. In her haste to catch the guy, the fact that they were out of sight of the street went unnoticed until a scream tore through the night. She stopped, feet slipping on the grime coating the ground, breath catching in her throat. The man had made another turn just seconds before the scream, leaving her alone. For just a moment, because a few steps forward and she'd make the same turn. She'd get closer to the source of the scream, which could very well be the man.
She could be safe, turn around, and call the cops. They could show up and be too late, but it would stop being her responsibility.
She could risk everything and walk forward.
Air rushed into her lungs, the stench of rotting food from a nearby dumpster forcing a cough immediately after. But it was enough to shake her into action, and she pulled the lanyard off to fit the keys between her knuckles.
She pulled her shoulders back, strode forward. She made the turn and swept the new area with her eyes.
It was a small parking lot, one corner lit with a street lamp and the rest swallowed up in shadow. The distant light silhouetted… something. That wasn't vague for dramatic effect, but because she couldn't tell what the fuck she was looking at. A shadowed lump, yes, which began twitching and jerking. Her lips parted, a sudden inhale whistling in her parched throat. The lump twisted, elongated.
It was not one lump. It was two things. It was a something and a someone, and a dark, syrupy pool was spreading out beneath that someone.
Ashton took an involuntary step backwards, eyes locking with the bright, candy red eyes of the creature. Her keys bit into her hand, a bright sting that spread into a steady burn. The moment was still—like the moment before a sick drop in a rollercoaster—everything was still save for the heaving of both of their chests.
She was so screwed. Fuck risks.
She blinked and the creature was gone. Ashton spun on her heel, taking off back the way she came. The shadows had grown, or her panic had dimmed the edges of her vision, and either way it was screwing her over. Her footsteps smacked like gunshot against the ground, but there was no way she could stop to do anything about it. And if she made it out of this alive, she was never doing this kind of thing again.
A force slammed into her back, knocking a scream out of her as she sailed through the air. She hit the ground and rolled, legs cracking against a dumpster. Pain blossomed in her knees as they twisted, and she lay whimpering until the blinding pain faded enough to think. She pushed herself onto her elbows, prepared to crawl, when the creature stopped in front of her.
"No, no, no, please—" She pushed back, palms catching in the cracks of the pavement.
But why try begging? It wasn't like it could under stand her.
It loomed over her for one terrible moment, then pounced. The pain in her legs was nothing compared to the pain erupting in her side. It spread like fire through her, eating her up until nothing was left.
Jan 29, 2011
Acrid spaghetti Bolognese and garlic breadsticks hit her like a punch in the face, and in an instant Ashton was conscious. Her head lifted, grime and hair plastered to her cheek, which she quickly rubbed off on her sweater.
Okay, so no actual spaghetti was thrown in her face. Her nose burned though, and the space behind her eyes pounded. It must have been an intense dream. One that left her drooling like crazy.
Ashton peeled her eyes open, breath catching in her throat at the sight of an alley. Immediately the events of the night came to her in a rush, and she scrambled to her feet. Her back thumped against the crumbling brick building, eyes rolling wildly as she searched for the beast. Fuck, fuck, where was it? Why wasn't she dead? Why—
Her eyes landed on the pool of blood, the dented dumpster, all visible in the morning light. That shocked the panic from her mind. Okay. Okay, she was dead and this was a let-down of an afterlife. That had to be it.
Don't be stupid, Ash. That's not your blood. That's the thief's blood.
She closed her eyes and sagged against the wall, a heavy breath of air leaving her. She almost died. She spent the night passed out in an alley. She saw a man die in a parking lot. That was fine. She was fine.
But she wouldn't be if Benny found out she didn't lock up the night before. She pushed off the wall and began the walk back to the bookstore. Her phone was there, though she highly doubted she missed any calls or texts. Her keys were—wrapped around her wrist. Okay, Ash, get your stuff, lock up, get out before Benny shows up to open.
She stepped out onto the main street a few minutes later, a grimace settling on her face at the flashing red and blue of a police cruiser. There was the officer, and there was Benny.
She trudged over to them. "Benny—"
"Ashton Monroe, you have a lot of explaining to do." Benny whirled around to glare at her. "You didn't lock up?"
She shrunk under the shorter man's disappointment, and dropped her gaze. "Someone stole something when I was supposed to close. I tried to catch them."
"So, why is the store unlocked now?" Benny snapped.
"I'm gonna need medical responders." A voice from the side cut in.
Ashton frowned before it clicked that the officer was speaking into his walkie-talkie. His eyes were fixed somewhere below her head, and she looked down at herself. She was soaked in blood, sweater torn nearly to shreds on the back and wrapping around the sides. Her boss gasped, snapping out of his angry haze, and reached out to grab her upper arms.
"You should see the other guy. The other guy being the thief. I think he's dead." Her head got light at the verbal acknowledgement of what she'd seen.
"You should sit down." The officer removed Benny's hands and directed her to a nearby bench.
She dropped, resting her head against the wall. The officer knelt down in front of her, pulling out a pen and a pad of paper.
"Alright. Ashton, right?" He waited for her hum of confirmation. "Can you tell me what happened?"
She shrugged, exhaustion leeching the strength from her limbs. Her eyes fell shut. She couldn't be sure of what happened, she didn't think any of this would turn out well for her. She wasn't hurt and a man was dead. She was the only witness. There were no lies coming to mind, however.
"I just wanted to get back what he stole and go home," she started, corners of her mouth spasming before they pulled down. "I didn't even catch up."
"Can you start from the beginning?"
And so, she told him. She told him the truth unflinchingly until it was time to describe the beasty thing. Then she hesitated, lifting her head. She looked at him, then swept the area with her eyes. A pair of onlookers stood a ways away, both dark haired and vaguely familiar to Ashton. Aside from that, she didn't care to notice more. This was an intriguing sight, of course they were staring.
"Look, I . . . I don't know what it was. It was big. I-It killed that guy," She twisted to point at the alley she came out of. "In the parking lot near here. A-and I tried to run, I really did, but it was so fast. It knocked me down."
She shrugged, fingers pressing into her cheek,"I thought it bit me, but I guess I just—I dunno, passed out from fear?"
The officer gestured at her stained clothes with the end of his pen, "You know, you've got blood on your clothes. And they're ripped."
"Yeah? Well, the thing had claws. They probably just caught on it. And it just killed a guy, it was bloody." She licked her cracked lips. "I know it sounds stupid. It sounds crazy—"
"There's been a few instances like this these past few weeks." The officer stood. "I'm surprised you haven't heard about it."
Ashton blinked a few times, uncomprehensively. She then sucked in a sharp breath, brows pulling together.
"'Instances'?"
"Animal attacks. In town. I haven't seen this body yet, but . . . it fits the M.O." He paused to murmur into his walkie-talkie. "Paramedics will be here in a moment. Let them check you out, then come to the station to file a formal report, okay?"
Ashton swallowed around the tightness in her throat. "Okay."
He hesitated, then went to talk to Benny again. Ashton sat, trying and failing to comprehend what he just said. To reconcile the unbelievable quality of her memories with the mundane explanation. Benny sat beside her as the officer strode into the alley, sitting beside her and draping his jacket across her shoulders.
Something clicked into place, in the core of her being. She wasn't who she was before. She couldn't be who she was before. And she didn't know what that meant. Not entirely. All she knew was that she dodged death, unscathed, which the paramedics confirmed when they arrived.
They also said she was in shock. She didn't believe it, not really. Maybe that was denial, but she didn't want to deal with doctors or—or therapists. She didn't need them.
She was fine.
an: so it took 2 months for me to finally get this written out so i dont expect this to have a rapid post schedule. still, i love ashton and i love her storyline and i want to shaaare it.
