The moment he entered his room, Stiles' bookbag slipped from his fingers to the floor, and he flopped onto his bed. A tired groan erupted out of his throat, and he closed his eyes. As exhausted as he was from the day's affairs, sleep just wouldn't greet him. His thoughts refused to halt their relentless race through his head. All he could think about was Scott, the body, that girl, those eyes. Scott, the body, that girl, those eyes. Scott, the body, that girl, those-
"Stiles?" Stiles raised his head, eyes flicking to the doorway where they landed on the form of his dad. The older man's wrinkled brow conveyed confusion, and his eyes – weathered with age, grief, and experience – held a deep concern within them. "What are you doing home so early, kiddo?"
"It's nothing, Dad," the teen assured his father. "I just wasn't feeling very well."
Stiles had really been hoping to avoid his dad finding out he was home already. There wasn't much he hated more than making his dad worry, especially when it was as needless as this.
"You doing okay?" the man asked. "Is there anything I can get for you?"
"I'm fine. Really, Dad, it's not a big deal."
"If you're sure."
Despite Stiles' insistence, he could still detect the worry in his dad's expression. "I'm sure. If I need anything, I'll let you know." Of course, Stiles was just saying that to make him feel better. In reality, he'd only turn to his dad as a last resort if he really needed something. Beacon Hills' Sheriff had enough on his mind as it was. He certainly didn't need his hyperactive spaz of a son nagging and complaining to him every other minute.
"Okay." The man nodded, offering his son a soft smile. "I just got a call from work a minute ago. They need me to come in early. I have to take off, but if you start feeling worse, you make sure to give me a call, alright?"
With his father's words, all exhaustion and wear were shoved out of his mind by the growing curiosity invading in its place. "You're getting called in early? Why?"
Normally they only called the Sheriff in early when it was for something very important – something like a major accident or a homicide.
"It's nothing for you to worry about, Stiles. It's police business."
"Is it a homicide?" the teen inquired, studying his father's features in hopes of picking up something from his body language if he didn't get a straight answer verbally.
"No, Stiles." The Sheriff sucked in a deep breath. "We don't know. That's why I've got to go in to help inspect the scene."
"Do they think it's a homicide? They have to have some idea on what it is." Stiles watched as his dad released a long sigh, his eyes no longer meeting his son's. The teen knew his dad plenty well enough by now to know that he knew the answer; he just didn't want to say what it was.
"Stiles, I really don't have time for this right now."
That's when it dawned on Stiles. Of course, it was none of his business what the department was investigating, but his dad often talked about his cases with Stiles. Even if the Sheriff didn't share confidential details, he at least would give his son a little bit to go off of. Right now, however, he was avoiding the topic altogether. He was dodging Stiles' questions, and that could only mean one thing.
"It's another animal attack, isn't it?" Stiles asked, though it was less of a question and more of a statement. "Another person was killed."
"We don't know that that's what it was. For crying out loud, Stiles, I haven't even been on the scene."
"But that's what they told you in the call, wasn't it?" The expression on his dad's face alone was enough to tell Stiles that he was spot on in his accusation. "Just like the girl yesterday? They went missing and their body turned up… well, you know, not exactly together?"
The Sheriff inhaled a deep breath, then blew it out through his nose. "That's what it's looking like. But, Stiles, you are going to let me investigate this. I don't want to see you out of this house for the rest of the night. If I get the slightest idea that you're sneaking around behind my back, I will ground you so hard your children's children won't be leaving this house."
Stiles raised both hands in front of him, almost as though he were fending off a physical attack rather than a verbal one. "I wouldn't dream of it, Daddy. Come on, you know me." He flashed his father an innocent smile, though there was a hint of mischief lurking behind it.
"That's exactly what has me worried." The man sighed once more, then turned down the hall. "Not one foot out of this house, you hear me?" he called as he left the room to get himself ready to leave.
"You got it, Dad!" Stiles assured his father.
SSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS
Stiles huffed and puffed as he finally came to a halt and settled behind a decent sized bush. At least this time he didn't have to walk so far into the woods like he had with Scott. Rather than being way out in the wilderness surrounding Beacon Hills, Stiles found himself in one of their local state parks. It was still very wooded and filled with wildlife, but this location was far closer to town than the previous one.
If it really was a wild animal doing this, it was getting braver. And that meant it was getting more dangerous. If it was a supernatural creature? Well, they were in a lot of trouble.
Stiles stilled his wandering thoughts as he spotted his dad arriving on the scene. The Sheriff's expression was a grim one as he ducked under the police tape and scanned the ground and shrubs around him. His main focus, however, wasn't on the scene itself – nobody's focus was. Nearly everyone there, including Stiles, had their eyes trained on the white sheet in the center of the small clearing. The pureness of the white in the sheet was tainted red with the blood of what hid beneath it.
Stiles held his breath as his dad approached the sheet, preparing himself for what he may see once it was lifted. The Sheriff reacted very similarly to his son, wiping a hand over his face before kneeling down beside the sheet and grasping the hem, slowly peeling it back to reveal the shredded remnants of what surely used to be a body.
Just like before, Stiles' stomach began to turn. At least this time he wasn't as close as before. It made it bearable to watch, at very least.
Even though he remained hidden a few yards away, Stiles could still make out some details of the scene. The body, as little as there was left of it, clearly belonged to a man. Fragments of auburn strands of hair clung loosely to his bloodied scalp, and, similarly to the girl, he had this look of pure horror permanently plastered on his face. His eyes remained open, unseeing as they stared up at the sky, and Stiles could only wonder what he saw in his last moments that could stain his features with terror like that.
Once he'd thoroughly taken in the sight, Stiles averted his gaze. He'd seen all that he needed to. There was no doubt in his mind now that it could only have been the same creature that committed both atrocities. Now, if only he could convince Scott to join him in investigating this.
Normally, Stiles wouldn't have thought it would be a problem, but there was no denying things were tense between him and Scott. Scott, it seemed, was pretty darn focused on his grades.
I mean, good for him, Stiles thought to himself as he began the walk back to where he parked his jeep. I'm glad he's working so hard on getting them up, but…
He also really needed his best friend. They always did this kind of thing together, and now… Stiles felt very alone.
A sigh slipped past his lips. Here's to hoping another body gets him back. It was a shame someone had to die though. Maybe this could've been avoided if Scott had just listened to him in the first place.
Stiles wasn't sure how long he'd been lost in his thoughts. It only felt like a few moments, but by the time he'd snapped out of them, he was back at the jeep. It was at least a ten-minute walk back to where he'd parked. Time always seemed to fly when he was trapped in his anxious mind.
He dug a hand down into his pocket in search of his keys, grasping them when he felt his fingers brush against cold metal. He drew them out, intending to unlock his vehicle, but before he got that far, he fumbled and dropped them to the asphalt.
Letting a curse slip out under his breath, Stiles knelt to pick his keys up. Somebody else, however, beat him to it. He hadn't even realized there was anyone else in the parking lot before that moment, though it was pretty poorly lit, so he guessed he had that as an excuse. There was only a single dim lamppost in the corner of the lot that provided a soft fluorescent glow for him to see by.
"Allow me," the other man said as he scooped up Stiles' keys. His voice was kind, but for some reason that didn't stop an uncomfortable shiver from running down Stiles' spine.
The man offered Stiles the set of keys and took a small step closer. That small step was just enough to allow the dim light of the lamppost to shine upon his features, giving Stiles a clearer view of his face.
The teen's heart thumped in his chest, and he found it now nearly impossible to breathe as his throat constricted. He could feel the blood drain from his face, and this icy cold feeling started to engulf him. Despite that feeling of ice, however, he somehow also felt burning hot as beads of sweat began to form on his forehead.
"Y-you…" That was the only word Stiles managed to squeak out. A sickening terror enveloped him as he glanced from the man's eyes up to his familiar auburn hair.
The man's lips turned up in a wicked looking smirk. "Hello, Stiles."
Dun, dun, DUN! Follow to see what happens next!