Hey guys, here's the offical first chapter of my Marrish story. I hope you all enjoy it. This is much longer than the prologue, sorry for how short that was, but as said, it is just a prologue. Do let me know what you guys think of this! Tell me if you like how I also write the conversations that they have, or if you'd just like me to write stuff that happens behind the closed doors that I originally made up. I hope you like the little parts that I added to the conversation, and when I'm writing originally, I hope you think I'm writing these two characters the right way. So yeah, please let me know what you think. So sorry for any grammatical mistakes again.

The day of the homicide at the house on Baker St. was already a busy one before the Sheriff ordered Parrish to go and stand guard at the crime scene. Parrish had literally piles of paperwork sitting at his desk, two cases he was supposed to be working on, and now he was spending his day sitting in a car making sure there were no disturbances.

Taking the report with him, Parrish parked across the street, getting comfortable in his seat and opening up the report. If he was given this case, which was very unlikely, he would have a hell of a job on his hands. As he looked at the piles of photographs taken from the crime scene, Parrish was almost frozen in place. It was so..gruesome, and very unlike a lot of other murders in the Beacon Hills area. This attacker had a weapon and he was definitely..human.

Jesus, that poor kid. Parrish thought, his breathe heavy and sympathetic. Peterson always told him to get rid of that sympathy, and that he, in fact, eventually would. He would no longer feel compassion for the loved ones, or grief for the victim, he would no longer feel personally attacked by the criminal and no longer have a physical urge to that one family who needed him. Peterson said that would all go away. Parrish wouldn't allow that to happen.

Something he could never quite wrap his head around was the motive behind killers, even after he spent years studying criminology before he went off to join the military with the Hazardous Defence Team. Which might be why he probably had never really wrapped his head around this whole 'sociopath' thing. He understood war, and violence and how to deal emotionally with everything. He was trained and he was good. But that doesn't mean he can't feel the pain.

As he turned his head to look at the house, his mind couldn't help thinking about the route the murderer could have taken, and the way of entry, all these thoughts running through his head until everything stopped and a shadow moved across the entry of the house, sliding past the glass window and through into the other room. Almost invisible, but still a sign of life.

Getting out of the car, Parrish reminded himself. Gun, taser, knife, as his hand instinctively sat on his holster. As he walked up to the house, he pulled his gun out, holding it to the ground, approaching carefully, slowly and subtly. Every movement he made was accurate and precise. As his dropped one hand, to wrap around the knob of the door, he gently let his hand twist it and open it up, letting it swing open itself as he stepped inside.

The house was silent, and disturbingly so. Whoever was in here, they must have a reason for it. He sure as hell wouldn't be walking around a crime scene without a damn good reason to be explaining to the police. "Beacon County Sherriff's Department." He called out, his words ringing through the large, empty house. After no response, not even a footstep, he continued. "This is a crime scene, show yourself." He demanded.

And in that moment, before he could react, a body jumped out in his peripheral vision. Instinct kicked in and Parrish raised his gun as he moved to face the trespasser.

Oh, shit.

Lydia Martin. The girl with the vision. The girl who's name was coming out of the mouths of every policeman in Beacon Hills, and the girl standing in front of him right now.

Meeting her eyes, she looked..Parrish didn't know how to describe the word..scared? caught? confused? This girl was a mystery to him, and why she had come here, even after the bodies had been found was something that flabbergasted Parrish even more. As he lowered his gun, he finally breathed out, but didn't let the thought slide that Lydia didn't seemed frightened at all with a gun pointed at her head. What the hell was up with this girl?

"What are you?"

"I would try to explain it, but I've never gotten a satisfactory explanation myself." Lydia said as they walked through the house, her long legs striding through the rooms, clearly pulling her along to whatever intuition she had going on inside that head of hers.

"Just an unusual habit of showing up to places where people have been brutally murdered?" He asked, watching the back of her head as she turned her back to him. Parrish couldn't help himself, he was so..intrigued by her. He would have contacted the station, she was a trespasser on a crime scene. But something told Parrish that Lydia Martin was some kind of exception to the code.

At his remark, Lydia turned around, her red hair flowing with her, the tight curls falling across her shoulders. Her face tightened softly as she addressed the question.
"Are you saying I have a reputation?" She asked. How did Deputy Parrish know anything about her?

"An unusual one." Parrish replied, shaking his head at her, a soft shrug of his shoulders. "Maybe you're psychic." He offered. Does Lydia even know why she can do this? Does she know why she just shows up here with nothing but herself to look at a dead body? By the way a small scoff came out of her mouth, Parrish assumed she had some sort of secret that she wasn't going to tell him.

Even so, it wasn't his place to demand it, but it didn't stop his curiosity.

"Don't tell me you believe all that." She challenged, looking at Parrish as if he was ridiculous. Lydia's eyes moved up and down his body, before moving on and walking toward the wall behind Parrish. He rolled his eyes at her remark and turned to face her.

"I'd like to say I don't believe in anything, but I keep an open mind." Parrish said, raising his own eyebrows at how he talked. Did he believe in that sort of second conscious? Supernatural ability? "But, if you're looking for dead bodies, I think you're a little late." He told her, trying to get back to the subject they originally started on; why she was here.

Though, Lydia didn't answer, she kept facing the wall, stepping closer and closer to it. What was she doing? As she put her hand against the dark wood, Parrish took a step forward, trying to figure out what this girl was doing. Suddenly, she applied some force to her hand and pulled back, letting the door fall open, a cloud of dust coming out of the space within what Parrish thought was just a wall, but apparently so much more.

Lydia turned back to Parrish, trying to meet his eyes. For what? Guidence? Instructions? Parrish had never seen anything like this before and Lydia seemed just as confused as he did. How did she know that was there? It's not like she had been here before, and if she had, it looked like this lockway hadn't been opened in a while.

Instantly, Parrish pulled out his gun, looking at the door and stepping in front of Lydia protectively. As she pulled the door open, Deputy Parrish gently put his hand on her shoulder, letting her know that he was there, and also letting her know that he would go in first, as he took the step forward. He wanted to tell her to leave, he didn't know what the hell this lead to, and he sure as hell didn't want to deal with the paperwork of the minor following him down a trapped door into the unknown.

As he held his flashlight below his gun, Parrish stepped into the compartment, finding himself in some kind of hallway, when he felt Lydia's presence behind him, he started to walk, his flashlight moving from wall to wall, making sure nothing was there to cause any harm to Lydia or himself.

Jesus Christ, it was freezing in here. As Parrish and Lydia walked down the small, narrowed hall, a small strip door was the only thing that this place led to. Before he took one more step forward, Parrish looked back to Lydia, making sure she was still there, and still with him. He sent her a look, hopefully enough to tell her that he was going to go in. A small part of him wanted her to stay, but a bigger part wanted the girl safe, and hoped she would just scream and run out at this point and left him to deal with it. She only looked back into his eyes with just as much commitment.

As Parrish stepped through the door, the familiar feeling of it sent him back to college when he had day after day of training for sweeps. Gun pointed, every angle covered. Which is exactly what Parrish did. As he scanned the room, he was almost about to yell out 'clear', and then reminded himself that he's not at the academy, and he's not with any of his partners. Just with the crazy psychic girl.

Right beside him sat a light switch on the wall. Gun, taser, knife. The words rang through his head again, flicking the switch and watching as the bulbs gave the room light. Christ, it's really freezing. Seeing no threat, Parrish put his gun in his holster and started to rub his hands together, seeing Lydia holding her body in her arms. The girl was in a short skirt and half sleeved shirt. Without thinking, Parrish shrugged off his jacket and put it around her shoulders. She didn't say anything, he half expected her to roll her eyes at him, but she kept the jacket on none-the-less.

The whole room was filled with fog, as it started to finally clear, they both got a more insightful view to the place. Long bags hung from the ceiling, line after line after line, full of bags that were keeping cold. "I think it's a game locker." Parrish said, taking a step forward. "Like venison." He uttered, telling Lydia as he examined the bags that hung. "Hunting is legal in some parts of the state, but.." Parrish's voice ran over as he continued to look around, paying closer attention to the room. What the hell was this place?

"What is it?" Lydia's voice broke through her room, making Parrish come back to reality and start making actions. Stepping a bit closer to the closest bag to him, he put his hand on Lydia's shoulder, willing her to move back, as he started to unzip the bag in front of him.

"It's not venison." The words came out like iron blades at Parrish and Lydia became face to face with a dead body sitting inside one of the fifty bags in this place. An old woman, who knows how long she had been sitting inside there for. "Get out of here, Lydia." Parrish ordered. Stepping back and turning her with his hand on her shoulder, guiding them out of the room and quickly walked back down the freezing hallway into the house.

"You can't just grab me like that, there are dead bodies in there! We have to keep looking!" Lydia snapped at him as they got into the warmth of the house, his jacket still sitting on her shoulders. Deputy Parrish didn't reply to her, but quickly grabbed the radio on his belt and spoke into it, requesting backup immediately. When he received confirmation on his request, he looked at Lydia. "You should go." He said softly, looking at her. She seemed confused, and frightened, but mostly confused, which gave Parrish an odd feeling in his stomach. How many dead bodies had this girl actually seen? Enough to not make her squeamish, that's for damn sure.

"What? Why? I was in there with you. I'm a witness." She said, frowning at him, her body standing strong and tall, trying to match Parrish's height, which definitely wasn't going to happen.

"You're a trespassing witness. One that has been getting on all the policemen's nerves with all the supposed 'help'. Look, it's better and easier for both of us if you leave, they don't need to know you were here." He convinced, trying his best to make Lydia believe that he was doing the best that he could at this point.

She seemed disappointed in him, this man she had never met, this man that she had shared two seconds of eye contact with before she flicked her strawberry blonde hair and walked away. Her facial expression was sharp, she was obviously interested in how this was going to go down. Without another word to Parrish, Lydia walked out of the room, out of the house, and in whatever direction she came in, while Parrish ran a hand through his short caramel hair, trying to find an explanation to give the Sheriff after they all see this discovery.

"Jesus, it's freezing in there." Peterson groaned as he stepped out of the trapdoor, holding his jacket tight around his body.

"What do you think is going on? What the hell is all that about?" Parrish asked, his mind running rampant. Did the murdered family own this? Did they even know this was here? How old are the bodies?

"I don't know what the hell is up with this situation. Stilinski is pissed, and confused, and really pissed." Peterson said, shaking his head as he walked around the room , looking at each photograph in the room, trying to see if he could see any regular faces from what was down in that game locker.

"Parrish!" The familiar voice of the Sheriff pulled Parrish out from his thoughts, as Stilinski popped his head out from the trap door. "Get down here." He ordered. Instantly, Parrish moved, heading for the wall until Stilinski raised his eyebrows at him. "Where's your jacket, son?" He asked, causing Parrish stopped in his tracks.

Lydia freaking Martin.

"Uh..at the station, sir." He lied, acting casual as he stepped into the trapdoor into the freezing air of the secret body stash.

As I've already said, I hope you enjoy this chapter. I'm not sure whether I should write another chapter before the new episode which is all OC, or wait for the new episode for hopefully some new interaction with them to see everything that happens. Let me know what you think I should do. I love to hear what you think. Love you. x