[BOOK 3]
"And suddenly life wasn't about living, it was about surviving"
Just when they think their lives are finally back to normal, everything suddenly springs back into action and the two best friends spend the rest of their juni...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
"Lydia? Lydia?" the door was open, so Lexie just walked in, hoping she wouldn't be found in a crime scene. But then she just reminds herself that her boyfriend's father is the Sheriff and she's not all that worried anymore about breaking federal law.
The Walcott house seemed like your normal suburban family home. Wooden structures, family photos, and decorative items. But other than that it seemed empty, a hollow feeling settling in the air and making the Banshee seem extremely uneasy. For some reason the presence of death there was so strong. Normally she'd be able to sense the murder of a family pretty easily, but in this case it was like she didn't even need to try, it was that strong.
She took a tentative step forward, her hand automatically tracing across the wood boards on the wall, the girl closed her eyes and breathed in. There was something else. Some other feeling of death that was a lot older than last night. Someone else had died in this house. Then she heard floorboards creaking and she worriedly opened her eyes, taking further steps in hope that it was her sister and not the axe murderer returning for part two.
Then someone turned the corner in a swift movement, causing the girl to flinch and gasp simultaneously, especially at the sight of a gun being pointed at her. But when she saw the Deputy badge and the familiar face as well as a lock of strawberry blonde peeking out from behind him, she visibly relaxed. "You guys could've perhaps announced your presence. You know, 'Beacon Hills Sheriff Department. Come out with your hands raised, no?"
"You called your sister."
Lydia rolled her eyes as she hurried to Lexie's side, the uncomforting feeling she had of being in this house still sitting with her, "Texted actually, and yes. I needed her help,"
"And I suppose she's psychic too?" Parrish questioned, causing the redhead to look between the two with confusion. What conversation had they had before she got here? And what the hell did Lydia tell him?
"No, but she knows a whole lot about crime scenes,"
Parrish finally put away his gun before raising a brow at the two teenage girls, and then watching as they split off into different directions and continued to search the area around them, "More than a deputy?"
"Definitely." Lexie replied before letting herself be drawn to a certain spot. "So you searched the entire house?"
"Yep." Lydia answered, leaning against the bannister and pressing her hand to her forehead. She hadn't found anything, but she still had this sickly feeling in the pit of her stomach. Something didn't feel right, and she knew it had something to do with being a Banshee. There was dead body somewhere, she just couldn't quite figure it out. Compared to her younger sister, she was still struggling, it was still so knew to her. "Nothing,"
"Well if you're looking for dead bodies, I think you guys are a little late." Lexie listened as her sister sighed, and then Parrish's movements behind her, but then her gaze fixated on something. In the wooden planks among the wall were distinct faces. The dark lines in the wood created abstract faces. All of them screaming. Suddenly, the whispers in the back of her mind grew and grew until they were matching the images in the wood.
