-

Amelia and Stiles found themselves wading through the creek in the heart of the nature preserve. Their mission was twofold: locate the upper half of the unfortunate body Amelia had stumbled upon the previous night and, equally crucial for her, recover the lost inhaler during this wild endeavor.

As their footsteps submerged into the chilly creek, they exchanged words about the day's lacrosse practice, their wet shoes a testament to the pursuit's urgency.

"I-I don't know what it was. It was like I had all the time in the world to catch the ball. And that's not the only weird thing. I-I can hear stuff I shouldn't be able to hear. Smell things," Amelia confessed, her voice carrying a hint of bewilderment.

"Smell things? Like what?" Stiles inquired, his skepticism evident in his furrowed brow.

"Like the mint mojito gum in your pocket," Amelia replied, her senses astute.

Stiles' face contorted into a mix of disbelief and curiosity. "I don't even have any mint mojito—"

However, as he reached into the inner pocket of his blazer, he uncovered a solitary folded-up piece of mint mojito gum, precisely as Amelia had detected. Amelia raised her arms in a triumphant "I told you so" gesture.

Stiles, still grappling with the inexplicable, posed a question. "So all this started with the bite?"

Amelia contemplated this, her concern deepening. "What if it's like an infection? Like, my body's flooding with adrenaline before I go into shock or something?"

Stiles, seizing the opportunity for a playful tease, wore a sly smile. "You know what? I actually think I've heard of this—it's a specific kind of infection."

Amelia's anxiety mounted. "Are you serious?"

Stiles delivered his punchline with faux solemnity. "Yeah. Yeah, I think it's called lycanthropy."

Panicked, Amelia sought more information. "What's that? Is that bad?"

Stiles embellished the myth. "Oh, yeah, it's the worst. But only once a month."

"Once a month?" Amelia echoed in alarm.

"Mm-hmm. On the night of the full moon. Aroooo!" Stiles playfully howled, and Amelia shoved him in annoyance, prompting laughter from her friend.

"You're the one who heard a wolf howling!" Stiles defended himself.

Amelia's apprehension lingered. "Hey, there could be something seriously wrong with me!"

Stiles reassured her with a grin. "I know! You're a Werewolf! Rawrrr!"

Amelia remained unamused by the joke, prompting Stiles to reveal his humorous intent. "Okay, obviously I'm kidding. But, if you see me in shop class trying to melt all the silver I can find, it's 'cause Friday's a full moon."

Their search was interrupted when Amelia couldn't locate the expected location. She frowned in frustration. "No, I-I could have sworn this was it. I saw the body, the deer came running. I dropped my inhaler..."

Stiles suggested an alternative. "Maybe the killer moved the body?"

Amelia maintained her pragmatic outlook, even in such peculiar circumstances. "If he did, I hope he left my inhaler. Those things are, like, eighty bucks."

As they continued scanning the surroundings, an unexpected presence emerged before them. A woman in her twenties, with pallid skin, raven-black hair, and a black leather jacket, confronted them sternly.

"What are you doing here?" the woman demanded in a gruff tone, irritation evident in her voice.

Caught off guard and flustered, Amelia and Stiles stammered, unable to provide an immediate response. The woman's impatience grew more pronounced.

"Huh? This is private property," she pressed, her tone growing more abrasive.

Stiles, attempting to defuse the situation, spoke up, "Uh, sorry,, we didn't know."

Amelia added to Stiles' response, "Yeah, we were just looking for something, but..."

However, a glare from the stranger silenced Amelia, and she hesitated to continue.

"...Uh, forget it," she conceded, deciding to abandon the topic.

With that, the stranger tossed Amelia's inhaler back to her. She then turned and retreated in the direction she had come, barely acknowledging Stiles.

Amelia released a relieved sigh and prepared to return from whence they came. "Um... All right, come on, I gotta get to work."

Stiles, however, had recognized the stranger. "Dude, that was Hana Park!"

Amelia looked at Stiles in bewilderment, her memory failing her.

"You remember, right? She's only like a few years older than us," Stiles reminded her, somewhat incredulous at her lapse.

Amelia frowned, struggling to recall the name. "Remember what?"

Stiles revealed the dark history. "Her family. They all burned to death in a fire, like, ten years ago."

Amelia looked both intrigued and concerned by this news.

"I wonder what she's doing back..." Amelia pondered aloud.

Stiles scoffed, as though he thought that nothing good could come of it, before walking away.

"Come on," Stiles called back. He finally turns back, and Amelia, still looking toward where Hana headed out, slowly follows behind him,"

-

Night had descended, and a thunderstorm raged as Amelia made her way to the front entrance of the animal clinic where she worked as a veterinary technician. Her concerned gaze scanned the stormy scene outside before she locked the door and flipped the sign, changing it from "OPEN" to "CLOSED."

Inside the employee bathroom, Amelia had arranged a bottle of hydrogen peroxide and some bandages on the shelf above the sink. She raised her shirt to inspect the dressing over the bite she had received just the previous evening. Her eyes widened in astonishment as she removed the tape and bloody gauze, revealing that the wound had miraculously healed in less than a full day. There was no scar or mark to indicate that she had ever been injured. She stood there, staring at her reflection in the mirror, baffled by the inexplicable recovery.

Shaking off the strange occurrence, Amelia returned to her duties. As she hauled a large bag of cat food into the "cat clinic" section of the facility, she greeted the feline residents.

"Hey, kitties."

Suddenly, the tranquil atmosphere transformed into chaos. The cats became agitated, growling, meowing, and pawing at their cages, desperately trying to break free. Overwhelmed by the bizarre events that seemed to keep happening to her, Amelia hurriedly exited the cat room, concerned for the safety of the boarders and herself.

Amelia was on the verge of closing up the clinic for the night when she sensed something amiss outside. Just then, a drenched Hanisa appeared at the front door, tears streaming down her face as she pounded frantically with her fist. Startled by Hanisa's unexpected presence, Amelia quickly unlocked and opened the front door, greeting her with a mix of surprise and uncertainty, unsure of what to expect.

"Hi..."

Distraught, Hanisa wasted no time in rambling anxiously about what had just happened.

"I didn't see it. I took my eyes off the road for, like, two seconds to change the song on my iPod, and then this dog, it just came out of nowhere!"

Amelia listened intently, trying to calm her down to gather more information.

"It's alright. It's alright. Do you remember where it happened, so I can send Animal Control to find it?"

Tears in her eyes, Hanisa replied, "No! I mean, yes, I know where I hit it, but the dog is--"

"Where is it?" Amelia asked patiently.

"It's in my car."

Amelia followed Hanisa out into the pouring rain, where she had the dog, a white and gray collie, in the trunk of her hatchback car. The dog instantly started growling at them, scaring Hanisa and causing her to jump backward. Concerned, Amelia grabbed her by the shoulders to steady her.

"You okay?"

Hanisa nodded, her breath shaky after all the crying, and Amelia smiled gently.

"She's just scared."

"That makes two of us," Hanisa admitted.

"Let me see if I have any better luck."

Amelia met the dog's gaze, maintaining eye contact with a stern expression, which seemed to instinctively subdue the collie. Suddenly, her irises glowed bright gold, and the dog ultimately submitted to her, ceasing to growl.

In the clinic's exam room, Amelia and Hanisa had brought the dog. Amelia examined the canine for injuries.

"I think her leg is broken. I've seen the doctor do plenty of splints. I can do it myself and then give her a painkiller for now."

Grateful, Hanisa nodded, and Amelia noticed she was shivering from the cold and rain.

"I have another shirt in my bag..."

Hanisa hesitated, not wanting to trouble her. But Amelia insisted, handing her the shirt.

"Here."

Grateful, Hanisa took the shirt and went to change. As she removed her wet shirt, Amelia caught a glimpse of her bare back, and the dog made a harrumphing noise, as though judging her. Amelia made a face at the dog.

"Here. What? I didn't see anything."

Hanisa returned, wearing Amelia's ivory long-sleeved t-shirt. She looked slightly embarrassed.

"Thanks for doing this. I feel really stupid."

Amelia frowned, concerned. "How come?"

Hanisa bashfully replied, "I don't know... 'Cause I freaked out like a total girl."

Amelia was a bit confused. "...You are a girl..."

Hanisa laughed tiredly. "I freaked out like a girly-girl, and I'm not a girly-girl."

Amelia asked curiously, "What kind of girl are you?"

"Tougher than that. At least, I thought I was."

Amelia smiled, trying to comfort her. "Hey, I'd be freaked out too. In fact, I'd probably cry. Like the biggest girly-girl ever. It'd be pathetic."

"Yeah, right..."

Amelia looked down at the dog, whose arm now had a yellow splint that she had doodled on during the interim. She started petting the collie comfortingly.

"So... It looks like she's gonna live. And I'm pretty sure she'll even let you pet her now, if you want."

Hanisa looked nervous about the prospect.

"I don't think so."

Amelia smiled mischievously, knowing she'd feel better if she tried it.

"Oh, come on. You don't want her to sue. I hear this breed is very litigious."

Hanisa slowly reached out and petted the dog along her side. When the collie didn't growl or move, Hanisa smiled and continued to pet her.

"You see? She likes you."

Amelia and Hanisa stared at each other for a long moment. Hanisa looked confused.

"What?"

Amelia, realizing her intense staring, looked away bashfully.

"Uh. Sorry. You have an eyelash on your cheek."

"Oh... from the crying."

Hanisa tried to get it off but missed. Amelia reached out and gently brushed the eyelash off her left cheekbone. Hanisa smiled, seemingly feeling shy about the moment.

"Thanks."

"Yeah."

Amelia walks Hanisa to her car, where the rain continued to pour relentlessly. Hanisa tossed her wet shirt onto the passenger seat as she opened the driver's side door. Amelia felt her nerves prickling as she tried to summon the courage to ask her out.

"So, um... I was wondering... I mean... Is it really family night on Friday, or do you think maybe you'd like to go to that party with me?"

Hanisa smiled knowingly, realizing she'd been caught in her earlier fib.

"Family night was a total lie."

Amelia's heart raced, and she felt a surge of anticipation.

"So, is that a yes? You'll go?"

Hanisa smiled and nodded in agreement, and Amelia was so awestruck by this moment that it felt almost unreal.

-

At her house, Amelia stripped out of her wet clothes and flopped down on her bed, still smiling from the afterglow of her interaction with Hanisa. As she drifted into sleep, she unconsciously turned from her back to her stomach, only to awaken to daylight, finding herself lying on a pile of leaves inside a coyote den in Mystic Falls woods.

Emerging from the den, she spotted the bestial wolf who had bitten her, its form shrouded in fog. Fear sent her running as fast as she could to evade it. Eventually, she leaped over a fence and plunged into a body of water. Panicked, she twisted around, only to realize that she had landed in a neighbor's swimming pool. The man in the backyard stared at her in disbelief.

Realizing she had no good explanation for her presence in the pool in just her underwear, Amelia decided to take the polite route.

"Good morning!" she offered with an awkward smile.

-

In the dimly lit history class, the topic of discussion was the Battle of Willow Creek, a crucial event in Mystic Falls' history.

Tanner, the teacher, stood at the front of the room, a stern expression on his face, as he posed a question to the students. His eyes fell on Bonnie, who hesitated.

"The Battle of Willow Creek took place right at the end of the war in our very own Mystic Falls. How many casualties resulted in this battle? Ms. Bennett?" Tanner inquired.

Bonnie, not entirely certain of the answer, replied tentatively, "Um...a lot? I'm not sure. Like a whole lot."

Tanner's response was blunt. "Cute becomes dumb in an instant, Ms. Bennett. Mr. Donovan? Would you like to take this opportunity to overcome your embedded jock stereotype?"

Matt Donovan, seemingly unfazed, leaned back in his chair. "It's okay, Mr. Tanner, I'm cool with it."

Tanner's attention then shifted to Elena, who seemed uncomfortable under his gaze. "Hmm. Elena? Surely you can enlighten us about one of the town's most significantly historical events?"

Elena stuttered, clearly struggling with the question. "I'm sorry, I--I don't know."

Tanner's patience was wearing thin. "I was willing to be lenient last year for obvious reasons, Elena. But the personal excuses ended with summer break."

Amelia winced at Tanner's harsh words, feeling a pang of hurt deep within. She had tried her best not to show how much that comment affected her, it cut deeper than she cared to admit.

Stiles, sitting nearby, shot a glare at Tanner, his anger on behalf of Amelia.

Just as the tension in the room began to mount, Stefan, a newcomer, chimed in with the answer. "There were 346 casualties. Unless you're counting local civilians."

Tanner's tone shifted to one of approval. "That's correct. Mister...?"

Stefan introduced himself. "Salvatore."

Tanner continued the conversation, intrigued. "Salvatore. Any relation to the original settlers here at Mystic Falls?"

Stefan's response was composed. "Distant."

Tanner nodded, acknowledging Stefan's knowledge. "Well, very good. Except, of course, there were no civilian casualties in this battle."

Stefan, however, calmly corrected him. "Actually, there were 27, sir. Confederate soldiers, they fired on the church, believing it to be housing weapons. They were wrong. It was a night of great loss. The founder's archives are, uh, stored in civil hall if you'd like to brush up on your facts, Mr. Tanner."

Tanner's expression shifted from its usual stern demeanor to one of surprise as Stefan's response showcased a depth of historical knowledge that few students possessed. He seemed taken aback by the accuracy of Stefan's answer, and a faint hint of embarrassment colored his features. "Hmm," was all he said in response, clearly embarrassed by the unexpected correction.

-

Amelia Gilbert had just changed into her lacrosse gear, her anticipation mingling with the nerves that came with the final day of try-outs. She neatly stowed her backpack away in her locker, but just as she was getting into the right mindset, an unexpected presence disrupted her focus. James, dressed in his lacrosse attire, stormed over and ferociously slammed his locker shut, sending a jolt of surprise through Amelia.

"Alright, Gilbert," James began, his tone laced with accusation. "How 'bout you tell me where you're getting your juice."

Amelia, caught off guard and unsure of what James was referring to, blinked in confusion.

"What?" she stammered.

James, frustration evident in every word, reiterated his demand slowly, dripping with mockery.

"Where. Are. You. Getting. Your. Juice?"

Amelia's confusion remained, unable to decipher his cryptic inquiry.

"My aunt does all the grocery shopping," she finally offered, a perplexed expression on her face.

Thinking she was deliberately feigning ignorance; James tightened his grip on his patience.

"Now, listen here, Gilbert," he continued, his anger veiled behind a facade of control. "You're going to tell me exactly what it is and who you're buying it from because there's no way you're performing like that on the field without some sort of chemical boost."

The realization finally dawned on Amelia, and she responded with a frown.

"Oh, you mean steroids!"

Her tone shifted as she directed the question back at James.

"Are you on steroids?"

James's patience waned, as he pushed Amelia against the locker, pinning her in place.

"What the hell is going on with you, Gilbert?"

Amelia, already grappling with the bizarre changes happening in her life, couldn't contain her frustration any longer.

"What's going on with me?" she exclaimed, her voice quivering. "You really want to know? Well, so would I! Because I can see, hear, and smell things that I shouldn't be able to see, hear, and smell. I do things that should be impossible, I'm sleepwalking three miles into the middle of the woods, and I'm pretty much convinced that I'm totally out of my freaking mind!"

James, mistakenly interpreting Amelia's words as mockery, sneered in anger.

"You think you're funny, don't you, Gilbert? I know you're hiding something. I'm gonna find out what it is. I don't care how long it takes."

With an aggressive pound on the locker beside her ear and a hard smack on her shoulder, James left Amelia standing alone in the midst of a whirlwind of unexplainable events, feeling utterly overwhelmed.

-

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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 story.
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