Blurred Lines
lions in cages.
THERE'S A PUDDLE OF BLOOD that is practically the size of the Pacific in Hallie's driveway, and it doesn't take a genius to figure out that something is wrong. As if that wasn't enough, dark red footprints lead from the pool of blood towards the woods behind her house and they help diminish every bit of hope that the blood belongs to some animal.
Hallie Jacobs has officially lived in Beacon Hills for eight hours and she already hates it. More that that, she feels slightly sick at the find— she wonders if she should call the cops, which she quickly decides is probably the correct thing to do when there is a pond of dark blood staining your sidewalk. It's just her luck that her parents are out shopping for furniture at the same time; with the way things always tended to work out for her, she wouldn't be surprised if whatever caused the mess was sneaking up on her as she dialed for the Beacon Hill's police.
"Hello?" she says into her phone, voice coming out slightly frantic. She's standing on her front porch, blue eyes's shifting in every direction. "Yes, I— my name's Hallie Jacobs, I live on 26 Maffet Street. Er- there's— well, there's like a lot of blood in my yard and there's foot prints and I'm home alone and—"
Hallie is cut off by the person on the other line, who tells her 'don't panic' and 'someone will be sent there now, go inside until they arrive.'
She obeys, double locking both sets of doors when she is inside. Then she finds herself pacing across the ugly seafoam green carpet in the living room, cursing the house and the town and her parents for choosing to move there in the first place. Her mother had insisted it would be the best for them ("Hallie, don't be selfish— you know your father can't turn down this job."), and her dad seemed undeniably happy with the news that he'd got the job as lead surgeon in the orthapedic wing of Beacon Hill's Hospital. Still, Hallie felt bitter about the move— shouldn't her parents know better than to make a sixteen year old girl with a relatively good social life move in the middle of junior year? Beacon Hills wasn't even that nice, not compared to their old home in Huntington Beach. From the research she did, it seemed like all they cared about was the mediocre lacrosse team from the local public school, and a spew of murders that happened last year— none of it made Hallie happier to move there.
And now, when all she wants to do is explore the place that is now her home, she's stuck waiting for some police man to show up and do something about the possible murder scene in her front yard.
The knock on her door causes her to jump slightly, but a look through the window shows a uniformed man and the sight slows down her franticly-beating heart. Hallie opens the door to meet the man that introduces himself as 'Sheriff Stilinski,' then answers a quick set of questions about where her parents are and the details of her find.
"I was going to my car," she tells him, nodding from her spot in the doorway towards a light blue Volkswagen that's parked in an open garage. "My parents said I could go into town when I was done unpacking. And so I'm walking out and I see that," she stops again to point towards the obvious puddle of blood in her driveway. "And like, at first I thought, 'Okay, maybe it's some animal or something.' But then I saw footprints and they lead behind my house and— well, yeah. That's when I called."
Sheriff Stilinski, a man with a kind smile who seems to be in his thirties, nods. "Did you tell you parents about this yet?"
"No, I'll do that now." Hallie realizes how stupid that is, not letting them know that there's a cop at their house and that there is possibly some bloody lunatic running around in the woods behind their house. As she makes the call and reassures her frantic parents that she's okay and that they don't need to rush home, the sheriff walks outside and looks at the blood and footprints, brows furrowed. Before ending the call, her parents promise that they'll be home as soon as possible— they've had to travel out of Beacon County for the particular furniture set they were looking for, but they'd be back within an hour or two. Once off the phone, she relays this information to Sheriff Stilinski.
"Is it safe?" she asks, and then quickly adds, "Staying here alone, I mean. My parents said two hours and in their world, that'll end up being at least three. Is it safe to just stay here until then?"
"Well, someone was definitely here. I don't know how far they'v gone and there isn't much indication of what went on." He pauses to adjust his hat and cast a glance off towards the woods. "I can't make you leave, but in my professional opinion, I'd say that's the safest option. At least until your parents get home."
"Alright," Hallie nods slowly and then asks, "You don't have any clue what happened? None at all?"
"This is a lot of blood, Miss Jacobs. I don't mean to scare you, but it takes something serious to cause that kind of blood loss. Unless I have some type of body to base it off of, though, I can't know what actually caused it. It could be something as unfortunate as an animal attack on some hunter, or something worse." Seeing the mask of fear on the girl's face, Sheriff Stilinski starts talking faster to ease her worries. "Don't worry, though. I'll get a team to search the woods and until we find anything, I'm just a phone call away."
Hallie's scared expression barely changes; her eyes are shifting in every direction, and it seems as if all her senses are heightened in a fit of paranoia. The familiar feeling of her blonde hair blowing against her neck is enough to cause a shiver to run through her body.
Finally, after several moments of silence, she nods. "Thank you, Sheriff."
She goes inside and grabs a purse that holds her keys and wallet, and then she's backing out of her driveway, giving Sheriff Stilinski a small wave as she pulls away. He had told her, as she was leaving, that he'd check the area and get that team there as soon as possible to cover the surrounding area. It didn't completely calm her nerves, but the further she drove from the house and the closer she got into town, Hallie began to feel the sick feeling in her stomach diminish. After a long while of driving and window shopping, she decided on stopping at some small corner joint for food; that, maybe, was what she needed.
IT'S ALMOST NINE AT NIGHT on a Tuesday, and in any other case, Isaac Lahey would have probably been either working or doing school work. Instead, he's pacing around town; it's another weak attempt to clear his mind from the situation at hand. Derek had warned against going out alone, saying cryptically that 'the alphas could be anywhere, Isaac. Don't be reckless.' But he almost died the other night and with the way things were going, he wouldn't live long enough for another chance to be reckless— he might as well get it all out of his system.
His hands are stuffed in the pockets of his jeans as he walks down the dark streets, trying to decide where he should actually go. As he thinks about it, his stomach growls and it's like his body has made the decision for him. Food. Now that he thinks about it, he's barely eaten since the whole stint at the hospital and Derek's place. The thought of a juicy burger makes him mouth water and he's practically speed walking towarsa somewhere that will help to satisfy the hunger.
There's a diner on the corner near him that he hasn't been to since his father died, and whatever memories it may hold are pushed to the back of his mind. They had the absolute best burgers, and Isaac is intent on not letting his father ruin anything else (even after his death). The bells on the door chime as he walks in, and he isn't surprised to see the same bunch of waitresses there as in the past; Beacon Hills had a knack for never changing.
"Hey," he nods, sitting himself down on a stool at the counter. The waitress who stands in front of him has a name tag that reads 'Marge.' She looks about fifty and her eye shadow is the color of blue that resembles a bruise. "I'll have, uh, the double stacked hamburger? With a side of seasoned fries. Just a water with that, thanks." Marge smiles and writes it down, giving him a water and then giving the order to the cook.
Isaac is left alone, then, sipping at his cup and casting glances around the diner. He doesn't know what he expects to see— the alphas eating some burgers at a booth? The thought almost makes him laugh. Instead, he continues his scan of the area until his eyes land on a pretty blonde who is talking harshly into her phone. She has a plate of untouched food in front of her, and Isaac can't help but hear the words 'Sheriff Stilinski, blood, psycho killer' in her conversation.
"Listen, dad," she sighs into the phone, casting an apologetic glance at the waitress who is hovering near her. "Why are you acting like this is my fault!? If i had a choice, we wouldn't be in this stupid town! I told you, the sheriff told me it would be safer if I was out of the house while I was alone— because, dad! Are you not listening to anything I'm saying? There could be some crazy killer running around in the woods and I am not about to sit home and wait for them to kill me! Yeah, yeah, I know. I'm sorry for not letting you know, okay? But I'm safe, I'm at some diner. I'll be home soon, alright?" Her tone has softened considerably, and he sees her let out a long breath. "Yeah, love you, too, dad. Bye."
The girl places her phone on the table and apologizes to the waitress, then tells her that a refill of water would be great. Isaac cares less about her drink, though, and more about the conversation she was having. The talk of killers and Stiles' dad peaks his interest, and he has a sinking suspicion in his stomach that this has something to do with the alpha pack.
He is hesitating saying something to the girl, or at the very least sending Scott or Derek a text of what he's heard, when she beings digging through an awfully bright pink purse, then through a matching wallet to reach her money. After finishing the drink she had just ordered, she slaps a twenty on the table, tells them to 'keep the change,' and then hurries out the door, leaving the untouched food still on the table.
Suddenly, the hamburger that Marge places in front of him isn't his focus; Isaac knows the second that the girl steps out the door that he needs to find out more.
Hallie Jacobs has officially lived in Beacon Hills for eight hours and she already hates it. More that that, she feels slightly sick at the find— she wonders if she should call the cops, which she quickly decides is probably the correct thing to do when there is a pond of dark blood staining your sidewalk. It's just her luck that her parents are out shopping for furniture at the same time; with the way things always tended to work out for her, she wouldn't be surprised if whatever caused the mess was sneaking up on her as she dialed for the Beacon Hill's police.
"Hello?" she says into her phone, voice coming out slightly frantic. She's standing on her front porch, blue eyes's shifting in every direction. "Yes, I— my name's Hallie Jacobs, I live on 26 Maffet Street. Er- there's— well, there's like a lot of blood in my yard and there's foot prints and I'm home alone and—"
Hallie is cut off by the person on the other line, who tells her 'don't panic' and 'someone will be sent there now, go inside until they arrive.'
She obeys, double locking both sets of doors when she is inside. Then she finds herself pacing across the ugly seafoam green carpet in the living room, cursing the house and the town and her parents for choosing to move there in the first place. Her mother had insisted it would be the best for them ("Hallie, don't be selfish— you know your father can't turn down this job."), and her dad seemed undeniably happy with the news that he'd got the job as lead surgeon in the orthapedic wing of Beacon Hill's Hospital. Still, Hallie felt bitter about the move— shouldn't her parents know better than to make a sixteen year old girl with a relatively good social life move in the middle of junior year? Beacon Hills wasn't even that nice, not compared to their old home in Huntington Beach. From the research she did, it seemed like all they cared about was the mediocre lacrosse team from the local public school, and a spew of murders that happened last year— none of it made Hallie happier to move there.
And now, when all she wants to do is explore the place that is now her home, she's stuck waiting for some police man to show up and do something about the possible murder scene in her front yard.
The knock on her door causes her to jump slightly, but a look through the window shows a uniformed man and the sight slows down her franticly-beating heart. Hallie opens the door to meet the man that introduces himself as 'Sheriff Stilinski,' then answers a quick set of questions about where her parents are and the details of her find.
"I was going to my car," she tells him, nodding from her spot in the doorway towards a light blue Volkswagen that's parked in an open garage. "My parents said I could go into town when I was done unpacking. And so I'm walking out and I see that," she stops again to point towards the obvious puddle of blood in her driveway. "And like, at first I thought, 'Okay, maybe it's some animal or something.' But then I saw footprints and they lead behind my house and— well, yeah. That's when I called."
Sheriff Stilinski, a man with a kind smile who seems to be in his thirties, nods. "Did you tell you parents about this yet?"
"No, I'll do that now." Hallie realizes how stupid that is, not letting them know that there's a cop at their house and that there is possibly some bloody lunatic running around in the woods behind their house. As she makes the call and reassures her frantic parents that she's okay and that they don't need to rush home, the sheriff walks outside and looks at the blood and footprints, brows furrowed. Before ending the call, her parents promise that they'll be home as soon as possible— they've had to travel out of Beacon County for the particular furniture set they were looking for, but they'd be back within an hour or two. Once off the phone, she relays this information to Sheriff Stilinski.
"Is it safe?" she asks, and then quickly adds, "Staying here alone, I mean. My parents said two hours and in their world, that'll end up being at least three. Is it safe to just stay here until then?"
"Well, someone was definitely here. I don't know how far they'v gone and there isn't much indication of what went on." He pauses to adjust his hat and cast a glance off towards the woods. "I can't make you leave, but in my professional opinion, I'd say that's the safest option. At least until your parents get home."
"Alright," Hallie nods slowly and then asks, "You don't have any clue what happened? None at all?"
"This is a lot of blood, Miss Jacobs. I don't mean to scare you, but it takes something serious to cause that kind of blood loss. Unless I have some type of body to base it off of, though, I can't know what actually caused it. It could be something as unfortunate as an animal attack on some hunter, or something worse." Seeing the mask of fear on the girl's face, Sheriff Stilinski starts talking faster to ease her worries. "Don't worry, though. I'll get a team to search the woods and until we find anything, I'm just a phone call away."
Hallie's scared expression barely changes; her eyes are shifting in every direction, and it seems as if all her senses are heightened in a fit of paranoia. The familiar feeling of her blonde hair blowing against her neck is enough to cause a shiver to run through her body.
Finally, after several moments of silence, she nods. "Thank you, Sheriff."
She goes inside and grabs a purse that holds her keys and wallet, and then she's backing out of her driveway, giving Sheriff Stilinski a small wave as she pulls away. He had told her, as she was leaving, that he'd check the area and get that team there as soon as possible to cover the surrounding area. It didn't completely calm her nerves, but the further she drove from the house and the closer she got into town, Hallie began to feel the sick feeling in her stomach diminish. After a long while of driving and window shopping, she decided on stopping at some small corner joint for food; that, maybe, was what she needed.
IT'S ALMOST NINE AT NIGHT on a Tuesday, and in any other case, Isaac Lahey would have probably been either working or doing school work. Instead, he's pacing around town; it's another weak attempt to clear his mind from the situation at hand. Derek had warned against going out alone, saying cryptically that 'the alphas could be anywhere, Isaac. Don't be reckless.' But he almost died the other night and with the way things were going, he wouldn't live long enough for another chance to be reckless— he might as well get it all out of his system.
His hands are stuffed in the pockets of his jeans as he walks down the dark streets, trying to decide where he should actually go. As he thinks about it, his stomach growls and it's like his body has made the decision for him. Food. Now that he thinks about it, he's barely eaten since the whole stint at the hospital and Derek's place. The thought of a juicy burger makes him mouth water and he's practically speed walking towarsa somewhere that will help to satisfy the hunger.
There's a diner on the corner near him that he hasn't been to since his father died, and whatever memories it may hold are pushed to the back of his mind. They had the absolute best burgers, and Isaac is intent on not letting his father ruin anything else (even after his death). The bells on the door chime as he walks in, and he isn't surprised to see the same bunch of waitresses there as in the past; Beacon Hills had a knack for never changing.
"Hey," he nods, sitting himself down on a stool at the counter. The waitress who stands in front of him has a name tag that reads 'Marge.' She looks about fifty and her eye shadow is the color of blue that resembles a bruise. "I'll have, uh, the double stacked hamburger? With a side of seasoned fries. Just a water with that, thanks." Marge smiles and writes it down, giving him a water and then giving the order to the cook.
Isaac is left alone, then, sipping at his cup and casting glances around the diner. He doesn't know what he expects to see— the alphas eating some burgers at a booth? The thought almost makes him laugh. Instead, he continues his scan of the area until his eyes land on a pretty blonde who is talking harshly into her phone. She has a plate of untouched food in front of her, and Isaac can't help but hear the words 'Sheriff Stilinski, blood, psycho killer' in her conversation.
"Listen, dad," she sighs into the phone, casting an apologetic glance at the waitress who is hovering near her. "Why are you acting like this is my fault!? If i had a choice, we wouldn't be in this stupid town! I told you, the sheriff told me it would be safer if I was out of the house while I was alone— because, dad! Are you not listening to anything I'm saying? There could be some crazy killer running around in the woods and I am not about to sit home and wait for them to kill me! Yeah, yeah, I know. I'm sorry for not letting you know, okay? But I'm safe, I'm at some diner. I'll be home soon, alright?" Her tone has softened considerably, and he sees her let out a long breath. "Yeah, love you, too, dad. Bye."
The girl places her phone on the table and apologizes to the waitress, then tells her that a refill of water would be great. Isaac cares less about her drink, though, and more about the conversation she was having. The talk of killers and Stiles' dad peaks his interest, and he has a sinking suspicion in his stomach that this has something to do with the alpha pack.
He is hesitating saying something to the girl, or at the very least sending Scott or Derek a text of what he's heard, when she beings digging through an awfully bright pink purse, then through a matching wallet to reach her money. After finishing the drink she had just ordered, she slaps a twenty on the table, tells them to 'keep the change,' and then hurries out the door, leaving the untouched food still on the table.
Suddenly, the hamburger that Marge places in front of him isn't his focus; Isaac knows the second that the girl steps out the door that he needs to find out more.
♠ ♠ ♠
wow let's talk about how awful I am at fan fiction and how this is crap.yeah?
idk guys kind of regretting this. I guess I'll see how I feel about it and depending on it's reception, I may or may not get rid of it or, at the very least, rewrite this first chapter.