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( V. DARK OAK )
IF IT WAS ONE THING AMELIE HATED, it was cross country. All these tired teenagers, cursing at the sky and at Coach Finstock, sweaty and reeking of nasty body odor. Amelie stood next to Isaac, who knelt at the ground to tie his shoe laces. Amelie was rambling about Karly and her mom again, saying how she heard them fighting the other night and Karly told her how she hated her. Her heart hurt for the little girl, knowing that a part of Karly was never really over how their mom was done with them, and how she wasn't over their dad's death. Then again, Amelie wasn't either, and a part of her never would be.
Behind her, a branch snapped making her turn around and Isaac stiffen in his knelt position, holding his shoelaces so tightly his knuckles went white. Ethan and Aiden stood around Isaac, who was now breathing heavily. The twins' eyes glanced at the girl before looking at each other with a devilish smirk. Amelie narrowed her eyes at them.
"Pace yourself! Come on." Coach Finstock yelled from ahead. The twins set off on a run. "Isaac!" Scott called as he made their way to them. "It's them!" Isaac growled before running after them.
"Wait!" Amelie yelled, but to no avail. Both betas were gone. Looking behind her, she found Stiles walking up to her and she stiffened, clenching her fists. He was just a reminder of her abilities now. He raised his brows at her and scoffed at the two boys that ran. She groaned internally as they now walked side by side, before standing still, raising her arm at Stiles' chest to stop him.
"Do you smell that?" Amelie asked quietly. A dark, humid smell invaded her nose. Like something rotten and bitter. He furrowed his brows at her in return, shaking his head. "What do you smell?" He whispered.
She looked around her, hoping to find the source, before meeting the eyes of the boy in front of her. "Like someone died."
Ahead of them, almost on time, there was a scream, making her gasp. He grabbed her hand and started running to source. "Oh my god!" Amelie sobbed, holding her hands to her mouth, when they reached the clearing where everyone stood.
Tied to a tree, a boy with his neck slashed, head bashed, stood there. His eyes sunken and his skin turned grey. "How did you—" Stiles asked, almost to himself. Amelie shook her head in disbelief, before looking away from the dead boy.
"It's him, isn't it?" Isaac approached them, his eyes stuck on the body.
"Hey, get out of the way! Get back!" A voice shouted far away. Sheriff Stilinski ran into the crime scene, pushing away the horrified teenagers. "Get this area cordoned off before they trample every piece of evidence."
"Back up! Everyone back!"
"Dad, just come here. Look, look!" Stiles grabbed his father by the shoulder, pointing to the boy's various injuries. "Look at it, it's the same as the others, you see?"
