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ABOUT ten minutes later, when Scott, Stiles, Malia, Deaton and Theo had arrived at the sheriff station— Aspen hadn't moved. She remained where she had been frozen, sat with her back against the wall, with her knees up to her chest and her eyes barely blinking— as she stared at Tracy's deceased body a couple feet in front of her.
Over the years, Aspen had grown desensitised to a lot of shit. Supernatural creatures, murder mysteries, things that sound like they should stay between the pages of folklore.
But death— death was something she didn't think she'd ever get used to witnessing.
She hardly even knew Tracy, the only words she ever exchanged with the girl were her attempts to get her to understand she wasn't dreaming. She only knew her name—and the guilt she experienced in her final moments. She didn't know her story, her family, what she was like as a person or anything like that. But even still—Aspen mourned as if she did.
What eventually snapped her out of her trance was the sound of the door to the basement being slammed open—followed by multiple sets of rushing footsteps down the small staircase. Aspen turned her head in a swift motion to look at who had just come in—and the first pair of eyes she met were Stiles', and then she saw Scott, Deaton and Sheriff Stilinski following closely behind.
Aspen shot up to her feet, wiping away a single tear that had managed to escape and ran down her cheek. She watched the horror arise on all of their faces as they all noticed the dead body of the teenage girl on the ground, and the mercury staining her lips, her lifeless eyes.
"I—I didn't do this," Aspen was quick to clarify, scared that maybe they thought this was her doing. "I swear—I tried to stop them—"
"Them?" Stiles cut her rambling off with concerned eyes, rushing over to the brunette to comfort her, as she seemed so shaken up, "Who's them?"
"What the hell happened to her?" Sheriff Stilinski asked, as Deaton and Scott rushed over to the body.
"Th-there were these people in masks," Aspen said with a panicked voice, curling into Stiles' embrace as he held an arm around her for comfort, "I— I think there were three of them..."
"What are you talking about?" Scott furrowed his brows, looking up at her from where he was crouched.
"They were really strong, Scott!" Aspen said through some tears of anxiety, "They had a weapon—i-it was a syringe of, I don't know— something! Guys, I didn't do this!"
"She's not changing back," Deaton said as he observed her claws on the beds of her finger nails.
"Of course she's not changing back—she's dead!" Aspen cried out, trying to calm herself down by twirling a certain ring on her finger, all while in Stiles' embrace.
