𝚜𝚑𝚎 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚘𝚗𝚌𝚎 𝚑𝚞𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚖
𝚗𝚘𝚠 𝚜𝚑𝚎'𝚜 𝚙𝚛𝚘𝚝𝚎𝚌𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚖
Amelia Sealgair spent her summer in Scotland trying to find more of her kind, but coming empty handed.
Now, while trying to fix her relationship after two...
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SHE HATED THAT PLACE.
She had never been there before, but she knew she hated it.
Why would Stiles end up there? Why was he there?
They followed Lydia and Lizzie through the hall, the two stopping in front of a door towards a place Amelia did not want to go in.
"It's here!" Exclaimed Lydia. "It's right here."
"Okay," Amelia whispered as she pulled out her bow and arrows from her bag, making the sheriff look at her abruptly.
"What are you gonna do?"
"He said someone else was in there with him," the girl recalled. "And whoever took my boyfriend deserves one of these."
The sheriff kicked down the door and they all walked in, running downstairs and looking around.
But he wasn't there. Why wasn't he there? It didn't make sense.
"Girls?" Scott asked towards Lizzie and Lydia as they both looked around.
"I don't get it," whispered Lydia. "This has to be it..."
Amelia looked towards the girl, putting down her bow. "Then where is he?" She asked.
"Where is he!?" Shouted the sheriff and Lydia stepped back, Lizzie standing in front of her. "I'm sorry," the sheriff apologized in a whisper.
"I don't understand," mumbled Lydia behind Lizzie before she started pulling her upstairs.
Amelia looked around once more before Scott place a hand on her shoulder, making her turn around to look at him.
"I promised I will find him," he muttered to the girl. "You trust me, right?"
"I always trust you," she sobbed and he proceeded to held her hand before starting to drag her upstairs.
"Then just trust me again..."
• • •
They found him in the woods.
They found him in the freaking woods.
Why the hell was he in the woods? He was in the basement. He was in a basement.
He was in a basement. He had his leg trapped.
He had his leg trapped. He was in a basement.
Amelia was stomping her foot against the floor, repeatedly, again and again. She was staring at the floor, biting her nails again and again, ripping the nail polish like it was a Band-Aid.
Scott turned around to look at her as they were sitting on the waiting room. She looked pale, she looked terrified, she looked scared, she looked anxious.
