Hey guys! This is the first chapter of my long planned story for Teen Wolf, starring an OC, which I love writing. I've been working on it for a while and only now decided I was going to put it up on the internet somewhere. I probably wouldn't have been able to (because I didn't think there was an interest) if I hadn't read the incredible (and still on-going) stories Blood in the Water and Black Water by it-belongs-in-a-museum. If you haven't read them, go read them now because they're super well realized and detailed and I could gush about them for like, years but I won't. I would only hope to reach the level of world she's built around her OC and wait, I said I wouldn't gush. I tend to have commitment issues with stories so I can't promise how long this story will go on, but it's just something I've been toying with for while and want some feed back on it. This story picks up at the beginning of Season 3, and anything familiar is obviously based on actual canon TW which I don't own, blah blah blah, mandatory nonsense. Let me know what you think! [Also the name is based on a trope, because I've been way too in to tropes for a long time now.]
Savannah squinted down at the papers laid out in front of her, thinking that given a little more concentration, the formulas would make a little more sense. Unfortunately, the only thing that she accomplished was giving herself a headache and she dropped her head roughly on the book in front of her with a loud groan. She tried to let the music playing gently in the background soothe her throbbing temples, but that wasn't helping any either so she slammed the book closed and paused the music, grabbing the remote and flipping on the television. Maybe what she needed was a study break. She'd been trying to do these problems for a solid twenty-three minutes and if that didn't merit a break, she didn't know what did.
She scanned impatiently through the channels, looking for something she could stand long enough to relax to. She settled on the local news and headed for her dresser to find some aspirin. She'd been getting these headaches more and more lately, sometimes so severely she was immobilized, left to curl up in bed and wait for them to subside. Finally finding the bottle, she dumped three pink pills into her hand and threw them into her mouth, indelicately swallowing them with a gulp and with water dribbling down her chin. She plopped back down on her bed and checked her phone only to find a blank screen.
Glancing back up at the television was reflex. She didn't know what had caught her attention in the first place. Was it the harsh words of the anchor or the caption across the screen – "Mutilated body found in desert; yet to be identified." Honestly, bodies in the desert were in no short supply, most dating back to the rat pack days when control of the strip was a prize the mob constantly warred over. Even now, some poor sap was found almost every other week and it felt uncaring to say, yet it was true, that no one really flinched at the news. But mutilated? What did that entail? How often were gangsters found mutilated?
Now her attention was captured and she turned up the volume and crawled forward, resting her head on her hands. Ah. By mutilated they meant most likely by wild animals, and by wild animals they most likely meant coyotes. She had never liked the animals. In an effort to identify the man, they would show a facial reconstruction, and if anyone could help identify the man, the anchor reported, the police would be grateful. Please, the pretty blonde woman said, we only hope to bring peace to this man's family. A number scrawled across the bottom of the screen as a professional drawing came into focus. Savannah's breath caught in her throat.
The piercing eyes. The slightly crooked nose. The distinctive split in hair that she knew was dark brown. But it couldn't be. Could it? She jolted into a sitting position and tried not to jump to conclusions. She stared down the drawing on the screen and shook her head, but for all the doubt her brain tried to logically instill, she just knew somehow that it was him.
"Selene!" she called out suddenly, needing confirmation that her suspicion was accurate, "Selene!" She waited for a moment but no response sounded back from down the stairs. She sighed and realized that her mother was standing firm on her promise to only reply if she stopped using her first name. "Mom!" she finally shouted, conceding if only to get an answer.
"Yes?" Her mother called back, annoyance heavy in her voice. Savannah hesitated for a moment before proceeding, not looking forward to her mother's reaction if her hunch was correct. "Turn on channel 15." Then a pause, and "Don't ask why. Just do it."
She could have sworn she heard her mother sigh but the television clicked on all the same, and segments of clipped voices signaled her nearing the proper channel. Another pause. And then a gut-wrenching scream. And another. Then sobbing. Then the too combined into a wet sounding yell and she knew she had been right from the second she saw him.
Wasn't he supposed to be on a business trip? Why would he even be out that far in the desert and how could he possibly have been in a position to be mauled by a coyote? Could her mother hold it together without him? She stared at the television as the image disappeared and questions filled her head. Her own image in the mirror by her bed caught her eye now, and the pensive look she wore turned into one of disgust. The worst question she had kept tumbling around in her brain until she couldn't stand her reflection anymore. How sick of a person do you have to be to feel relieved when you learn the body of your mutilated step-father has been found in the desert? Even if you hated the prick, how twisted did you have to be to take comfort in the fact that he would never come home? How evil did you have to be to feel glad?
"If you're just tuning in, this is Slim Jimmy with KCXX 103.9, California's number one station for alternative rock! It's six o'clock and an hour of music, commercial-free is about to begin, but first a word from our sponsors!" A rather annoying voice chirped from the stereo system as Savannah was stirred abruptly from her nap. She groaned and rubbed her eyes, trying to rub away the foggy feeling naps always gave her. Not that she minded all that much that her sleep had been interrupted, as the crackling voice of the announcer had stirred her from yet another one of her disturbingly realistic dreams. At least this one was her own memory and a rather tame one at that, and she'd take this dream over the nightmares she'd been experiencing any day.
She leaned back against the head rest and closed her eyes against the intolerably bright sun, fumbling around blindly for the box of cheerios next to her. She scooped up a handful of the dry cereal and shoveled it into her mouth. Despite the fact that she clearly hadn't gotten even half the amount of sleep she had intended to get, she knew she should get back on the road anyway. She still didn't know how much work the house she was headed towards would need before it was inhabitable and the first day of the new school year was tomorrow. Not only was it a new school year, but it was a new school entirely, in a new town, in a new state, full of new people. All of the unfamiliarity she was preparing herself for made her head spin and her stomach lurch and anxiety build up in her chest. But she had put off the move for long enough, and she knew she couldn't put this off any longer.
She turned the ignition and felt her truck rumble to life faithfully, the air conditioning blasting her in the face and the volume of the radio doubling. She took a deep anticipatory breath as she shifted the car into drive and pulled out of the rest stop she had pulled over in a few hours ago. She had been driving for six hours straight and now with three hours left to go, she was, for lack of a better term, in the home stretch of her journey. Savannah rolled back her shoulders and slipped her aviator sunglasses down onto the bridge of her nose, cranking up the volume of the radio even louder as a particularly catchy Black Keys song began to play. Bobbing her head along with the music and singing an occasional lyric helped distract her some, but her mind was elsewhere.
The highway was a blur on either side of her as mile markers passed by quickly. Every so often she'd stuff another handful of cereal into her mouth or fiddle with the air control, or pass through all the radio stations until she found satisfactory tunes, but in the monotony, she closed the distance between herself and her destination faster than she'd anticipated. After a questioning glance or two at the directions and a few exits, she found herself squinting at a sign in the distance and she left out a sigh of relief as it became clear – "Welcome to Beacon Hills."
She looked around at the town spread out in front of her, and truthfully, she was what she would kindly call underwhelmed. Granted she was coming from Las Vegas, where the night was lit up so bright that you couldn't see a star for miles and where drunks and gamblers and showgirls constantly filtered along the too-bright streets and, she reminded herself, where bodies were found mutilated in the desert. But despite the drastic change, the town felt a little lifeless, and there were a lot more pine trees than she expected.
'I thought California was supposed to be all sunshine and rainbows,' she thought as she shivered, switching off the air conditioner and wondering why she hadn't noticed the shift in weather before. This was not how she expected the end of August to feel, with the temperature changing so drastically day to day. But once again, she was comparing her old home to her new - Vegas was all scorching heat and pounding sun, leaving her sense of temperature a little skewed. The low sixties sounded uncomfortably chilly to her if she were being perfectly honest, and even she could understand that that was ridiculous. She'd never been good with change. In fact, she'd always resisted it, fighting tooth and nail for things to remain the same but often, in the end, it didn't make a difference. Change was inevitable. Maybe this change would help her work out some of the other things she'd been experiencing lately.
Despite the anxiety remaining firmly in her chest, it was a comfort knowing that at last, she had arrived. She even felt a little giddy. Maybe it was the lack of sleep. Regardless of the cause, not even the poor weather could sour her mood. Perhaps a storm was on the horizon. The suddenly grey skies and absence of sun felt slightly ominous, but fuck it, she couldn't care less as she neared her new home.
She pulled up to a red light and absentmindedly changed the song playing, while in front of her, two cars seemed to be having some sort of awkward exchange. The light couldn't change fast enough and one car, the one in front of her, sped off. She wasted no time in following, anxious to get off the road. She did manage to spare a glance at the two boys in the car next to her who seemed to be arguing. She gave them a quizzical look as she passed and seconds later, they followed.
Savannah shoved yet more Cheerios into her mouth to quiet her growling stomach, and focused her stinging eyes back on the road. She passed the small car in front of her and turned on the heat after yet another shiver, causing her truck to growl almost angrily. The sound began to grow though, much louder than it had ever before. A low rumble rose up over the sounds of the whining engine, and a scene from Jurassic Park sprung forth into her mind. She checked her mirrors, trying to find the source of the noise but saw nothing out of the ordinary. Out of nowhere, a shape rose up in the distance, a shape that grew by the second, even when she decreased her speed and turned on her high beams. Maybe if she'd gotten those extra hours of sleep, she would've made sense of the scene quicker, but without them, she was sluggish and could almost feel the gears in her brain turning and trying to come up with a viable explanation. The shape was getting bigger, and when she finally realized that it was running towards her, she had precious seconds to lay on her horn and swerve. She had hoped to alert the other drivers, but only succeeded in sending her truck careening into the bushes.
Branches scratched against the rusted brown paint and the sound of a scraping bumper made her grind her teeth together as the truck came to a stop. She groaned loudly as she brushed at the bruise surely forming on her head, poking the place where it had hit the steering wheel none too gracefully. A woman was screaming behind her, reminding her that she wasn't the only one who had just seen a deer sprinting down the middle of the road. At least she could be comforted by the fact that she wasn't crazy.
She unbuckled herself and headed towards the screaming, which had all but quieted down. Four teenagers, whom she guessed where around her age, stood around the smaller of the two cars. A tiny redhead, the screamer, was gesturing frantically at the deer protruding from the front end. The deer had lodged itself into the windshield, each antler snapped in half and dangling from its bloody head. One glazed over wild eye stared through her while the other rolled around on the dashboard. All four teenagers looked shaken but otherwise uninjured.
She stepped behind a tree and leaned back against its trunk. They hadn't seen her yet, and maybe it would just be easier to get back into her truck. Half of the group, two teenage boys, had even successfully removed the deer from the front of the car. Savannah didn't have to get involved at all really if they were all okay, and besides, this wasn't exactly a charming introduction. 'So, we just got stampeded by a rabid deer like we're in Jumanji. Do you want to be pals?' She sighed loudly in spite of herself, causing the head of the boy nearest to her to snap in her direction, as if he had heard her. How he possibly could have she wasn't sure. He urged the two girls who had driven the now wrecked car to get back inside it and drive home. One seemed to put up a fight, but the other shoved her into the passenger's side and they sped away. The two remaining boys began making their way towards her, and she figured now was her opportunity to make her presence known. She pushed herself off the trunk and spun around to face the two. She was a little dizzy but steadied herself as she took in the two boys in front of her.
One was tanned with eyes that were almost glowing in the last rays of light cast by the sun while the other was pale and freckled in plaid. At another time, she might have thought to herself that they were both rather attractive, and of course she'd have to crash her truck in front of guys who were attractive because that was just the kind of luck she was used to. But all she could think about now was the damage to her precious truck and how much her head was aching from the collision.
"Are you alright?" Glowing eyes asked, stepping towards her a little hesitantly but with what looked like sincerity in his eyes.
"I'm fine. I will be anyway. How are your friends? I wanted to make sure that deer didn't skewer them or anything like that."
"You're bleeding." The same boy told her, ignoring her question and gesturing toward her head.
"Am I?" She asked, wiping the red from her brow. The boy took another step towards her, looking concerned. "I'm fine, honestly. It's just a scratch." She looked down uncomfortably and wanted to crack a joke, but her head really was pounding.
"How's your car?" The other boy questioned, finally speaking up.
"I'm a lot more worried about it than me. I mean, I know it looks like a piece of junk, but…" she trailed off, glancing back at the truck. "You know, you probably won't even be able to see the damage. Might look the same as before I decided to become a landscaper." Savannah finished, as she gestured towards the split bushes her car was currently crushing under its tires. Both boys smiled as she glanced down at her cell phone. "If you're alright, then uh, I really have to go. First day of school's tomorrow and I'm sure this concussion I no doubt have will make it just, just, so much better. See ya later, boys." She said with a smile and turned away, heading for her truck.
"Who was that?" She heard glowing eyes ask his friend as she walked away. Maybe he thought she was out of ear shot but her hearing had gotten strangely acute over the last couple of months, so she slowed down her pace a little to hear the conversation.
"Guess we'll find out tomorrow. This is going to be a good year, I can just feel it." He responded, digging through his pockets until she heard the jingle of car keys.
"That's not all you want to feel." glowing eyes countered, earning himself a gentle punch from his friend as he let out a low laugh and rolled his eyes.
She shook her head and gave them a knowing smile from over her shoulder, causing them both to look a little stunned and embarrassed. 'Boys.'
"Good god." Savannah muttered under her breath as she pulled up the dirt driveway that led to her new home. It towered over her truck like this was some half-assed horror movie and she could almost hear the pluck of violin strings in a suspense building orchestra number as she pedaled the break and shifted into park. She turned off the truck and stepped out to take a better look at the exterior of the house, finding that once again, like when she first drove into this town, she was underwhelmed.
As she stared down the dilapidated building that was to become her new home, she let out a sigh of pure exhaustion. It was almost immediately clear that she would have a long line of repairs in her future, and she was glad now more than ever she had sent a plumber here a few weeks ago to ensure she'd at least have running water.
The crescent moon seemed abnormally bright as it shone down through the leaves, scattering its rays across the forest floor and illuminating the dust that was thick in the air surrounding the house. She wouldn't be surprised if it was all that held the old home together. At one time this place must have been beautiful, when it was cared for and full of life, with sun shining brightly onto its two stories like a spread straight out of Home & Garden. She could almost imagine a hammock swinging, gently strung up between the trees, and sheets billowing on a wash-line, but those days were long gone, and though it still stood in the same spot, the house was now only a shadow of its former self. She could almost laugh at the irony. Almost.
Leaning back to rest on her truck, she found herself not knowing exactly how to feel about this place. Should she be glad she had somewhere to go or eternally skeeved by the qualities this place shared with your more traditional haunted houses? Should she question again why she had never heard stories of the family that lived here? So yes, maybe the deed was left to her by some long dead relative, and yes, she had nowhere else to go, and yes, she was really trying not to look a gift horse in the mouth here, but still… She was hesitant to even step inside much less stick out a 'home sweet home' doormat. She made a note to, in the future, always ask for a recent picture before she took off to start a new life after being willed some sort of property.
Perhaps, along with the plumber, she should have sent someone from the county to test the structural integrity of the place, as it almost seemed to sway when a gust of wind blew through, blowing hair into her face and causing her to shiver. Then again, she was also standing in the middle of the woods, another bonus of her new home, with few houses around for miles, so although it was getting rather chilly, she would also call her current surroundings rather shiver-inducing. She glanced over her shoulder into the night, and she almost could have sworn she heard a howl rise up somewhere in the distance, but that was stupid, because she was tired and there was nothing in California that was capable of howling. She had looked it up. After the incident that happened to her step-father, some of her worst nightmares were of the attack, with the coyotes that did him in often securing a starring role. Just the thought of her nightmares made her suddenly uneasy and noticing her sweating, tightly clenched palms, she decided in that moment that she couldn't stand there any longer.
She made for the passenger side door to grab her bag, shoving in everything that had tumbled down on to the floor mat. Though she had shipped most of her belongings down a few weeks ago to be stored in some facility, she was incredibly glad she had the forethought to bring a sleeping bag and pillow, having no idea what waited for her inside. She also scooped up the box of Cheerios, tucking them under her arm as she reached for the glove compartment. She unlatched it to pull out the manila envelope with all the paper work inside and slid out the lone silver key for the door.
She winced as she put a foot cautiously on the first step leading up to the porch, and though it let out a loud groan, it thankfully didn't give in. The wood creaked rather loudly as she made her way up the steps, protesting the weight of footfalls it hadn't supported in what was probably a long time. She was just glad she didn't fall straight through the dry-rotted planks and chose her moves carefully as she neared the door. An old rusted knocker stared her down as she reached for the knob, and positioned the key. She took a deep breath and fed it into the lock. With a click, it was open and she pushed into the pitch black entry way. Her hand fumbled on the wall, desperately looking for a light switch as her eyes adjusted to the dark that lay before her. Her fingers brushed over it and without warning the room was lit by a single bulb that swung from the ceiling. She felt her stomach lurch as she stared at the swaying light and she could hardly pull her eyes away as shadows leaped around the room. When she finally wrenched her focus off of it, she took in her surroundings.
Directly in front of her, she was greeted with a wood paneled hallway, seeming to immediately split the house in two, a staircase leading to the second floor on the right and a large living room branching off to the left. Although every instinct she had pushed her to investigate the strange new place, her head still hurt from the accident and exhaustion weighed heavily on her eyelids. She veered left into the living room.
Though the windows were boarded, and it was rather empty, it was far cleaner than she had expected, almost as if someone had been taking care of it all of these years it sat abandoned. It didn't just feel clean though. It felt maintained. A brown, Victorian looking couch was positioned against the far wall next to an old wooden end table, and a large patterned rug was spread across most of the floor. Besides these few furnishings, there were only thin fabric curtains, various vintage posters, assorted bottles lining the mantle of the fireplace, and a wall with curiously bare mounts, like the ones that usually held a hunter's trophy. The mounts, maybe ten or fifteen of them, each displayed a set of antlers, a name and a year carved underneath them. They seemed ancient, the oldest being from 1927 and the most recent and also the largest pair, were from 1990. From the décor, it was hard to believe that anyone had lived in this house after the 1940's, but the relatively clean nature of the place led credence to this. Why had her mother never spoken about whoever had lived here? Why did she hardly speak of her family at all?
An open door on the adjacent wall led to a small bathroom, and she headed towards it to appraise the plumber's handy work. Flicking on the light, she gave the room a once over. It was clean enough to use, which again was confusing, but saved her the hassle of scrubbing away twenty year old dirt, and she appreciated that immensely. The water came out of the faucet and showerhead just like it should, and she positioned herself over the sink to stare at her reflection in the mirror.
So here she was. She had no idea what the rest of the house would look like, but for now, with these two rooms at least, she had dodged a bullet. There were no feral animals burrowed into torn up armchairs, or weird smells that would never entirely dissipate, or plants wedging their way up through the floor boards. There was hot water and a place to lay her sleeping bag down for the night and that, at this point, was all she could ask for. She'd tape up the cut on her head, gulp down some more Cheerios, and get some rest. The remaining unexplored bits of the house would still be there to deal with later.
She splashed cold water onto her face and inspected the angry lump that was forming slightly above her left eyebrow. Heading into the living room, she retrieved the plastic bag full of supplies she had gotten at the first 7/11 she could find and pulled out a roll of gauze and medical tape. As she opened the gauze, questions again began swimming through her mind like they so often did. Was she really prepared for this? Was she prepared for tomorrow? She hadn't been to school in almost half a year, and that was if you didn't count the summer. She was supposed to start a whole new life here, and was she really ready to do that? Her brain immediately reasoned that no, in fact, she wasn't ready for that, and that no way in hell did she have the energy for that, but that wouldn't really matter. Her new life here did start tomorrow, whether she was ready for it or not. To hell with tonight, and the weird deer incident, and the scary house that left her in the woods all by herself. She was going to make Beacon Hills her new home – even if it killed her. She gulped as she secured the gauze over her clotted cut. Hopefully it wouldn't come to that.