Not far from the mysterious woods, where wild creatures roam, sits a two-story home hidden beneath a thick canopy of trees. In an upstairs bedroom, a mischievous wind sneaks through an open window, carrying with it a scene of hilarious determination. There, two hands painstakingly thread the laces on the head of a lacrosse stick. It's a slow and arduous process, as if each lace has a mind of its own, refusing to cooperate.

Completing the final loop of the intricate lacing, seventeen-year-old Amelia Gilbert proudly stands with the newly re-threaded stick in hand. Clad only in athletic shorts, her slender physique bears witness to the hours she dedicates to training for the lacrosse team.

You see, Amelia's dreams of lacrosse stardom are hampered by a minor detail—she's simply not good at it. Her attempts to make the team have resulted in a series of comical blunders, leaving her perpetually seated on the bench. It's not because she's a girl, mind you; her coach is insistent on him not being a sexist. No, it's because, well, she stinks. It's as if her stick has a magnetic attraction to everything except the ball, leading to an impressive display of unintentional slapstick humor on the field.

Scooping a ball up from her bedroom floor, Amelia gives the lacrosse stick a hesitant spin, testing her handiwork. Suddenly, a voice echoes from outside the open door.

"Kids, I'm off! Dinner's in the fridge!" Jenna yells out.

Caught off guard by the sudden interruption, Amelia's aim falters, and the ball she was handling goes careening off course, crashing into a nearby lamp and causing a loud shattering sound.

"Glue is in the cabinet!" Jenna adds, hearing the crash.

Amelia kneels down to pick up the shattered pieces as Jenna peeks into the room, her eyes widening at the broken lamp.

"I thought you gave up on lacrosse," Jenna remarks, a mix of surprise and concern evident in her voice.

"I didn't quit. I just... don't really play," Amelia sighs, holding the broken pieces gingerly in her hands.

Jenna considers her niece's words, her expression filled with a combination of understanding and empathy.

"Have you ever considered quitting?" Jenna asks, her voice gentle yet probing.

"Jenna..." Amelia sighs, feeling a mix of frustration and determination welling up within her.

"Just want you to be happy. High school is supposed to be fun. You should be out there, chasing after boys," Jenna says, her tone attempting to inject some light-heartedness into the conversation.

Amelia can't help but let out a wry chuckle, despite her current predicament.

"Well, I'm not having much luck with that either," she confesses, a hint of self-deprecating humor coloring her words.

Realizing the impact her words may have had, Jenna quickly shifts gears, aiming to uplift Amelia's spirits.

"Alright, I should probably stop before I completely demolish your self-esteem. Don't worry, Junior year is always better. I promise," Jenna reassures her, her voice filled with sincerity.

As Jenna leaves, Amelia finishes picking up the pieces of the broken lamp. Getting ready for bed, she pumps out a few chinups at the bar mounted in the doorway of his closet and then brushes her teeth in the bathroom. But a sound--an odd cracking--spins her around.

The front door to the porch swings open, and now armed with a baseball bat, Amelia steps out into the yard. With bated breath, she moves cautiously down the porch steps, her grip on the bat tightening. Suddenly, the sound of movement freezes her in her tracks. She remains perfectly still, her eyes scanning the side of the house when...

A dark figure swoops down, causing Amelia to let out a terrified shriek, her reflexes nearly causing her to swing the bat in defense.

"Stiles, what the hell are you doing?" Amelia exclaimed, a mixture of relief and annoyance evident in her voice.

Stiles, still hanging upside down, looked at her nonchalantly as if this bizarre upside-down conversation were completely normal.

"You weren't answering your phone," Stiles explained, his voice slightly muffled. "I know it's late, but you gotta hear this. I saw my dad leave twenty minutes ago. Dispatch called. They're bringing in every officer from the Beacon department and even State Police."

Amelia's curiosity piqued, but she couldn't help but feel a tinge of annoyance at Stiles for his ridiculous approach.

"For what?" she asked, trying to make sense of the situation.

"Two joggers found a body in the woods," Stiles revealed, his words hanging in the air, sending a chill down Amelia's spine.

Amelia's grip on the baseball bat loosened slightly as she processed Stiles' words.

"A dead body?" Amelia questioned, her voice filled with disbelief.

Stiles rolled his eyes, clearly unimpressed by Amelia's response. "No, a body of water. Yes, dumbass, a dead body," he retorted sarcastically.

Amelia watched as Stiles reached up to free himself from the trellis, landing on his feet in front of her. His words hung in the air, leaving a somber atmosphere between them.

"You mean like murdered?" Amelia asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

Stiles nodded, his expression grave. "Nobody knows yet. Just that it was a girl, probably in her twenties."

Amelia's mind raced with a mix of shock and curiosity. The thought of such a tragic event happening in their small town sent shivers down her spine.

"Hold on," Amelia interjected, trying to process the information. "If they found a body, what are they looking for now?"

A mischievous glint appeared in Stiles' eyes as he leaned in closer. "That's the best part," he whispered. "They only found half."

Amelia's eyes widened in disbelief, a million questions swirling in her mind.  Amelia's thoughts were abruptly interrupted by the sound of her brother's voice echoing from above.

"Hey dumbasses, I'm trying to sleep!" her brother yelled, his head popping out of the window as he peered down at them.

Startled, Amelia and Stiles glanced up, meeting her brother's annoyed gaze. It was clear that he had been disturbed by their conversation.

"Sorry!" Amelia called out. She quickly realized that their discussion had likely disrupted her brother's sleep. 

-

A beat-up jeep screeched to a halt in front of the gated entrance to the Beacon Hills Preserve. Stiles stepped out, clutching a flashlight in his hand, with Amelia following closely behind, trying to keep up as they ventured into the winding hiking paths.

"Are we seriously doing this?" Amelia asked, a hint of hesitation in her voice.

Stiles turned to her, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "You're the one always complaining that nothing ever happens in this town," he retorted.

Amelia sighed, her thoughts momentarily drifting to the restful night's sleep she had hoped for. "I was trying to get a good night's sleep for tomorrow," she explained.

Stiles smirked, his words tinged with sarcasm. "Right, because sitting on the bench is such a grueling effort," he remarked.

Amelia's determination flared up, and she spoke with unwavering resolve. "No, because I'm going to prove myself this year. In fact, I'm going to make the starting lineup," she declared.

Stiles chuckled, seemingly amused by Amelia's ambition. "That's the spirit. Everyone should have a dream. Even a pathetically unrealistic one," he teased.

As they continued their trek through the dense forest, Amelia couldn't help but let her curiosity get the better of her.

"Just out of curiosity," Amelia asked, her tone laced with intrigue, "which half of the body are we looking for?"

"Huh. I didn't even think about that," Stiles mused, his mind clearly occupied by their impulsive decision.

Amelia couldn't help but voice her concerns. "And what if whoever killed the girl is still out here?" she asked, her voice tinged with unease.

Stiles' eyes widened, realization dawning upon him. "Also something I didn't think about," he admitted, his confidence faltering for a moment.

Amelia couldn't help but feel a mixture of frustration and fear at Stiles' lack of planning. "Comforting to know you've planned this out with your usual attention to detail," she remarked sarcastically.

As they raced up the paths, Amelia's breath began to shorten, the adrenaline pumping through her veins. A thought crossed her mind, and she couldn't help but make a wry comment. "Maybe the severe asthmatic should be the one holding the flashlight," she suggested, her voice laced with a hint of irony.

Cresting a hill, Stiles abruptly paused, his eyes fixated on the scene below. Flashlight beams scattered across the shadows as the police conducted their search, just a stone's throw away. Unable to contain his restless energy, Stiles urged Amelia forward.

"Come on!" he called out, his voice filled with urgency.

Amelia struggled to keep up with Stiles, her breath growing ragged as she gasped for air. "Stiles, wait up--" she called out, her voice filled with exertion. But her efforts were in vain as Stiles disappeared into the distance, his determination propelling him forward.

Realizing that she had been left behind, Amelia came to a halt, her chest heaving as she reached for her inhaler. As she took a moment to catch her breath, Stiles slowed down and turned back to look for her. However, before he could fully assess the situation, a cacophony of barking pierced the air, causing him to spin around.

Amelia's heart skipped a beat as she watched a menacing creature with fanged teeth snap ferociously at her, sending her stumbling backward and landing on the ground. A search dog, held back by its leash, prevented it from tearing her apart.

Amidst the chaos, a stern voice commanded, "Stay right there!" Amelia froze, thinking that the State Trooper's words were directed at her. She cautiously peered out from behind a nearby tree and realized that it was directed at Stiles. Stiles, who was now surrounded by members of the search party, their flashlight beams blinding him as he obediently raised his hands in the air.

Deputy Stilinski emerged from the darkness, stepping into the illuminated area where the growling search dogs were held back.Stiles, visibly shrank under the weight of the deputy's stern gaze, sensing trouble looming ahead.

"Hold on, hold on, this little delinquent belongs to me," Deputy Stilinski declared, asserting his authority with a firm tone. Stiles couldn't help but feel a pang of guilt, knowing he had been caught red-handed.

"Do you listen in on all of my phone calls?" the deputy questioned sharply, his disapproval evident in his voice.

Stiles, attempting to lighten the tense situation, responded with a hint of humor, "No... Not the boring ones." His attempt at a joke fell flat, as it was met with his  fathers stern expression.

The deputy continued his inquiry, his skepticism apparent, "And where's your usual partner in crime?"

Stiles, noting of his friends absence, replied, "Who? Amelia? She's at home. She mentioned wanting to get a good night's sleep for the first day back at school."

Deputy Stilinski, still harboring doubts, called out to Amelia's name, his voice resonating through the night. However, Amelia remained hidden in the shadows, refusing to reveal her presence.

The deputy's suspicion lingered as he refocused his attention on Stiles, making his intentions clear, "All right, young man, I'm taking you back to your car, and we're going to have a discussion about a little something called Invasion of Privacy." He grabbed his son by the collar of his jacket and dragged him away.

Watching Stiles being dragged away, Amelia steps out from the cover of the trees, letting out an sigh. She begins retracing her steps, attempting to find her way out of the woods. However, as she progresses, the darkness becomes increasingly oppressive, making it difficult to see.

Arriving at a fork in the path, Amelia hesitates, unsure of which direction to take. Just as she is about to choose a path, a rustling sound emanates from the surrounding trees. She freezes in place, her breath catching in her throat. Gripping her inhaler tightly, not only due to her asthma but also fear.

Suddenly, an unfamiliar rumbling fills the air, growing in intensity and speed. Amelia's senses heighten as she tries to make sense of the chaotic noise. Then, without warning, a group of half a dozen deer burst forth from the darkness. Their thunderous hooves pound against the ground, creating a powerful and awe-inspiring spectacle as they swiftly pass by Amelia.

Startled, Amelia drops the inhaler, her hands trembling in the darkness. Alone once again, she kneels down and pulls out her cell phone, using its light to search for the lost inhaler. As she scans the ground, the phone's light briefly reveals something else—a haunting face, pale and beautiful, but with lifeless eyes, belonging to a young woman torn in half.

A gasp escapes Amelia's lips, her heart pounding in her chest. In a state of shock, she stumbles backward, tripping over her own feet and tumbling over the roots of a tree. Momentum takes over as she is propelled down a slope, crashing into trees and rolling until she finally comes to a stop at the base.

Breathless and disoriented, Amelia pushes herself up, her eyes darting back up the embankment she just descended. Her senses heighten as a low growl reaches her ears, freezing her in place. Something large and menacing lurks in the shadows nearby.

With caution, Amelia begins to turn around, her fear mounting. Before she can fully comprehend what is happening, a shape hurtles toward her. In the briefest moment, she catches a glimpse of razor-sharp teeth, instinctively crying out in terror. Managing to disentangle herself from the attacking creature, she scrambles back to her feet, propelled by sheer adrenaline, and breaks into a panicked run.

Branches whip at her, tearing at her skin and clothes as she races blindly through the forest. The sound of her own heartbeat drowns out everything else, until she crashes out onto a road. Wide-eyed, Amelia whirls around to face an oncoming car, narrowly avoiding being hit as the driver swerves and blares the horn in warning.

Breathing heavily, Amelia takes in her surroundings, her torn shirt clinging to her back, revealing a deep and vicious-looking bite. As she attempts to regain her composure, a strange sound reaches her ears—a haunting and primal howl that echoes through the night, unmistakably the howling of a wolf.

It echoes through the hills, over the trees, across the rooftops and into the night...

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Disclaimer: I do not own the body of work that is The Vampire Diaries and Teen Wolf. Only the character Amelia Gilbert.
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I hope you enjoy this new story.
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