Hey haha wow weird it totally feels like it's been almost two months since I updated? That's not possible.

Needless to say I'm SORRY. Life got in the way. I suck. I'm sorry. Also I'm thinking every two weeks is a more realistic update schedule for me because I work five-six days a week. I LOVE YOU GUYS.

Although because this is a hella bad cliff hanger I will try to posties the next chapter within a week. ALSO the chapter title is a hint as to what my big bad will be for at least part of the story. It's pretty obvious (I think?). Anywhooo. Enjoy. Love you guys.

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The scream ripped Lydia from her fugue state, dragging her back to consciousness. It rang in her ears, shivers racking her body as her thin pajama shirt clung to her skin with the freezing rain water. Her cheeks were flushed, and while it wasn't even below forty degrees, the water seemed to sap her body heat. As she recovered her wits, the sounds of water dripping onto concrete replaced the echo in her ears. She looked around, wide brown eyes searching for what had brought her here, what had made her scream. Or rather, who. It was an old, run down warehouse, one of many apparently in Beacon Hills. If she even was in Beacon Hills. It was dark, but as it was storming that wasn't a good indication for the time. It was also painfully obvious she had walked quite far, her feet stinging with a million tiny cuts. Looking behind herself, she saw small smears of blood in the shape of her footprints. As she stepped forward she grimaced, but continued on. She had come here for a reason, someone had died, or would soon. But as she walked further into the building, it seemed as though no one was there but her.

Until with a sickening crunch, the body of a man with his head twisted in an unnatural way landed on the floor in front of her.

The sight of the body itself didn't scare her, she had seen too many a corpse for that, but it's sudden appearance did startle her. She didn't scream, but stumbled back, head snapping up to scan the support beams for the killer. Or at least, the messenger. The redhead was half expecting to be greeted by a pair of glowing eyes, framed by long, dirty blonde hair. But it was dark and she was, for the most part, human. If there had been anyone else up there, they were either long gone or hiding very well in the shadows. Then she heard it, that immediately recognizable rattling of bones, the low rumble of a deep growl. Hands shaking, partly from the cold and partly from her terror, she pulled out her phone and called the first person that came to mind.

A groggy voice answered. "Hello?"

"Parrish?"

The nightmares had become more diverse as of late, including images of flaming birds and large, ghostly dogs with yellowed fangs. Often the dogs were standing over bodies. Sometimes the bodies were unrecognizable, almost seeming to have no face at all. Other times, they were the bodies of people he cared about. His family, the Sheriff, once even Lydia. That particular night he had woken up confused for many reasons.

Suddenly awoken from yet another bout of fitful sleep, Jordan wasn't quite awake enough to look at the name on his phone before answering. There was only a few people he imagined it could be, anyway. If it was the Sheriff, it wasn't good. If it was Lydia or one of her friends, at this hour that probably wasn't good either. However, when he immediately recognized Lydia's voice, he held a small amount of hope that maybe she had just made a breakthrough in her research and just couldn't wait to share it. Despite that, he was immediately concerned at her tone.

"Lydia? What is it? Are you okay? What time is it?" He could hear her shaky breathing, and teeth chattering before she answered.

"I'm... I'm at some warehouse. There's a body."

The Deputy was out of bed and heading for the door before she even finished the sentence, snatching his shoes on the way out. He always had a clean pair of socks ready in his shoes, in case of emergencies like this. However, as soon as they were on, he returned for his gun which he had forgotten in his minor panic. "Lydia. Go outside and find a road sign. Or like, drop a pin on your maps thing and send it to me."

Her voice lowered to a whisper, and the sound of fear so evident in her voice sent a chill down his spine. "I think the killer is still here."

He froze, terror welling in his chest. "Get outside and hide. Now. Send me your location, and I'll call for backup, okay? Just hide." The okay she gave was barely audible, and he heard her hiss as she began to move. His stomach clenched, wondering if she was already hurt. As much as he hated to, he needed to get off the phone. "Lydia, I'll be there as soon as I can. You're going to be okay." He hung up, and a few seconds later he received a text. Swearing under his breath when he saw it was nearly twenty minutes away, and wished that for fucks sake he had driven the cruiser so he would have the siren. Thankfully he had a small police radio in his car, and called it in as soon as he got in. "This is Deputy Jordan Parrish, enroute to 14 crest way, civilian reported body on the scene. Perp may still be on scene, repeat perp may still be on scene, requesting back up." He was speeding away by the time the dispatcher had responded, informing him two units were enroute as well.

It was the longest fourteen minute drive of his life.

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Once Parrish dropped the call, she went into maps and sent him the location. She was somewhat tech savvy, and had done it many times before. Lydia would have been surprised, and impressed, Parrish knew how to do it, if she hadn't been so worried about the sounds coming from above. Each rattle sent a spike of fear through her gut, each growl elevating her pulse. It was a sound that on occasion haunted her daydreams. A sound that made her stomach drop, each spike of fear weighing it down as it dragged along the ground as she moved gingerly towards the side door that was hanging off its hinges. If it really was a berserker, and not her imagination, there wasn't really any point in even trying to get away. But she was going to try anyway. Lydia Martin never gave up without a fight, and she wasn't going to start now.

Once she was outside, the pebbles of what had once been a parking lot dug into the cuts on her feet, causing her to cry out. The sound seemed to alert whatever was lurking inside, and was followed by a dull thud from the building, the rattling growing louder. She walked, determined to do as Parrish had said, towards a small shroud of trees near the road. "Come on, Deputy."

Pebbles were scattered as he shot into the parking lot, slamming on the breaks. He jumped out, his car dinging at him as he left the driver's side door open. Jordan's entire body was tense as he jogged around the building, gun pointed to the ground. "Lydia?!" He did a perimeter check, but part of him wanted to go back to the car. The area was eerily still, no signs of life. He wanted to go back and let one of the other officer's look. Let on of the other officer's find her body if he had been too late.

As he neared a patch of trees, a flash of red caught his eyes. Her brilliant hair was visible even in the impressive darkness. He froze. The red wasn't moving, which meant Lydia wasn't moving. Maybe she hadn't heard him call out. "Lydia?" His breath caught as there was still no response or movement. The different ways her body could be mangled flashed before his eyes. The different ways she could be gravely hurt, all because he had taken too long to get there. All it took was a soft moan to snap him out of his morbid reverie, and he rushed forward. He knelt beside her, eyes scanning the rest of the trees before he tucked his gun in the waist of his pants at his back. Despite the sound that had signaled to him she was still alive, Lydia remained entirely unconscious. He did his best to check her over without being too handsy, as touching her in any way while he looked so vulnerable felt wrong. She had a fairly deep gash on her right forearm, and her hair was matted at the back from the blood of a small cut. It was the head wound that worried him, especially since she still hadn't woken up. "Lydia.."

The sirens of two cruisers and an ambulance drew his attention away from the red head for only a moment, and he flagged them down. "Bring me a stretcher!" Two EMT's rushed over, accompanied by an officer. As much as he hated to, he stepped back to let them do their work and addressed the officer. "Clear the building. I'm going to ride with L- Martin to the hospital, contact her parents. Sheriff been informed yet?" She nodded.

Jordan ran to the ambulance just as they were loading her in, jumping up beside her. Without a second thought, he took her hand in both of his. "C'mon, Lyds. Wake up."

Her beautiful, big brown eyes shot open and she started screaming.

"Lydia, Lydia please it's Jordan, Deputy Parrish? You're okay." Her breathing was quick and panicked, but the screaming stopped. "What happened, Lydia? Who hurt you?"

Those terrified eyes found his. "I.. I don't remember.." They grew wider. "Berserkers. It was a Berserker."

Jordan glanced sideways at the EMT waiting for Lydia to calm down and Parrish to get out of the way so he could do his job. As much as he hated to, Jordan knew he had to delay Lydia's explanation until they were out of mixed company. "Well, whoever it was is gone now, okay? You're safe. It's just me and Robinson here, who would probably feel a lot better if he could check you over. Is that okay?" She gave a weak nod, and he moved awkwardly around the moving vehicle to give Robinson full access to his patient.

"Hey, Lydia right? As Deputy Parrish just represented, most everybody calls me Robinson, but you get to call me Jake. Sound good?" Lydia nodded again, but Jordan grimaced at the tone he used, a mixture of child-talk and flirting. "Alright, so you were having a little memory trouble there? And it looks like you got your head a good whack." Another nod. "Okay, can you look straight ahead please?" He whipped out a little flashlight, checking her pupils. She grimaced as the light flashed in her eyes. "Okay, okay. Can you tell me your full name and address?"

"Lydia Lorraine Martin. I live at, uh.." She hesitated, squinting at nothing in particular. Jordan's stomach clenched. "It's uh, 28th Prescott, sorry." A breathy chuckle escaped his lips. He had no idea if that was right, but she seemed sure enough.

"Alright Miss Martin, any idea how you got these cuts?" He was now examining the gash on her arm. "It looks like this one's going to need stitches, so we'll let the doctor take care of that."

"The only person who will be going anywhere near that with a needle will be a plastic surgeon, actually. And no."

Robinson laughed, loud, and Lydia flinched. "Well you seem to be doing alright Miss Martin. Odds are you have a concussion, they'll be able to tell you for sure after a CAT scan, but I doubt it's anything major."

"Thank you, Robinson." Jordan gave the EMT a pointed look, and he moved out of the way the best he could so the Deputy could be by Lydia.

"Lydia, what were you thinking going out there by yours-"

"I wasn't."

Jordan immediately felt like an idiot. He knew that most of the time Lydia didn't have any control over her Banshee instincts. "Do you remember how you got there at all?"

She shook her head, but looked down to her feet. "No, but I have a pretty good idea." He pursed his lips. A twenty minute drive was a long walk, especially in bare feet. "You should text Scott and Stiles. Did you say my name when you called it in?" He shook his head. "Okay, then they might not know it's me yet. Stiles listens in on his dad's scanner. If he was awake they're probably on their way. Just, let them know it was me. That I'm okay. And.. What I told you."

At first he wondered why she didn't do it herself, but then noticed just how violently her hands were shaking. "Robinson, where are the blankets?" He whipped around, ready to tear the EMT a new one for not doing his job, but he wasn't there. The back of the ambulance was empty except for Lydia and himself. Thinking that he had to have somehow climbed to the front, even though Jordan was sort of in the way, he peered through the opening. "Fuck."

"Parrish?"

He turned back, beginning to pull open drawers. "Okay, I know you're cold, and I'm going to find some blankets for you, but I need you to call Scott while I'm doing that."

"What's going on?" He pulled open a drawer full of gauze and medical wrap, and piled some into the crook of his arm. Thankfully the next drawer had blankets. "Parrish."

He turned back, tucking three blankets around her, except for her feet. "Lydia, call Scott."

"Not until you tell me what's going on."

He sighed, kneeling at the end of the stretcher, gently placing gauze over the cuts on her feet, then carefully wrapping them. "It appears that the ambulance is driving itself."

Lydia pulled out her phone.

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The sounds of someone clambering very awkwardly through his bedroom window brought aroused Scott from his dreaming. Normally he would have leapt into a defensive position, but the sound was all too familiar.

"Dude, come on, someone found a body somewhere in the warehouse district."

"Someone?"

"Parrish didn't say who when he called it in, but it seems like whoever it was told him directly, so-"

"Lydia." Stiles looked somewhat crestfallen, and Scott gave him a pat on the shoulder as he moved to his dresser. "C'mon dude, she's not replacing you. Lydia has always wanted to call the cops first, and now we have someone to trust who isn't your dad."

"I know, and Parrish is awesome and everything, but what if she's hurt?"

"Then he'll take care of her."

"I know dude, but what if like, it's Kate or something? So far all we know about Parrish is that he makes for some pretty shitty kindling, we don't know if he could fend off a Berserker."

"Yeah but she's probably fine-"

"Dude, hurry up."

"It's not like the body is going anywhere anytime soon."

"Yeah but the killer might. Parrish said they might still be on scene."

"And Lydia's there?"

Stiles' tired eyes widened, and the two boys thundered down the stairs and out to his jeep.

They pulled in right behind the Sheriff, and he gave them an exhausted glare as they climbed out and ran over to him. He held up a hand as both of their mouths opened, ready with a flurry of questions. "Lydia is fine. They think she probably has a minor concussion, other than that all she had was a decent cut on her arm and her feet were pretty torn up. Parrish rode with her in the ambulance, they should be at the hospital soon." Stiles's nodded, opening his mouth again, but the Sheriff beat him to it. "No, we didn't find the killer. The victim was a sort of security guard. The people who own this building own a lot of others, and he comes out every night to check for vandalism or kids goofing off or whatever."

"Cause of death?"

"Won't know for sure until an autopsy, but my bet is the fact that his head is twisted around."

Stiles grimaced, Scott pursed his lips.

"Now why don't the two of you just go home and get some sleep before school. We can handle this."

"Dad-"

"Hey, Sheriff!" Deputy Jerome waved him over from the entrance to the building. "We found something!" He headed over, not even attempting to stop Stiles and Scott from following him.

"What is it?"

"We found something." She held out a small, rectangular object. "It's an old cassette player. We found it stuck to the side of one of the support beams. And listen." She walked over, placing it back where they had apparently found it, and pressed play. The sound that echoed around the building sent chills down their spines. "That sound mean anything to you?"

The Sheriff answered before Stiles could say anything stupid. "No, besides being unnecessarily creepy. Bag and tag it, we'll have the analysis look at it." She nodded, and the Sheriff turned back to the boys. "Now why would someone have that playing where a dead body was found?"

"It was probably for Lydia." They both looked at Stiles. "They probably knew she would find the body, and wanted her to think it was Kate. Or at least someone besides them. Where was Lydia?"

The Sheriff pointed to a side door. "Out that way by some trees. She was unconscious when Parrish found her."

"Right, so, when did Parrish get here?"

"A good few minutes before the two units who responded to his call."

"So, maybe they knew the response time, and were banking on a few extra minutes to be able to finish up and then grab the tape. But then Parrish shows up early, and they scurry off to whatever dank hole they came from, forgetting the tape."

"But finish what?" Scott looked confused. "If they were going to kill Lydia, why play that tape to make her think it was Kate?"

"Maybe they weren't going to kill her."

"This doesn't make any sense."

"Yeah, well Dad crazy people generally only make sense to crazy people."

The three of them turned to the sounds of sirens approaching, the lights of an ambulance flashing against the side of the building. The Sheriff gave an exasperated sigh, turning to head towards the front of the building. "Who in hell called another ambulance?"

A young Officer stepped forward, looking both guilty and confused. "I-I did sir. Well I called the first one, but they already came-"

"When did you call the ambulance?"

"When we arrived on scene, and saw that the Martin girl was injured."

"And when did it get here?"

Understanding dawned on his face. "Just.. Just a few minutes after I called it in."

Muttering expletives under his breath, the Sheriff pulled out his phone.

"What is it Dad?" The Sheriff ignored his son, calling someone and then launching off towards his cruiser when they didn't answer. "Dad! What does that mean?"

"If the officer didn't call for a bus until we got here, that means it took less than five minutes for it to get here." The boys turned to the Deputy who had been inside the warehouse. "It took Parrish fifteen minutes to get here, and us almost twenty. The ambulance that picked up your friend isn't one of ours."

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Please leave review! I really want all of your opinions/suggestions/constructive criticism. Also if anyone got my hint about what the big bad will be. Kisses!