𝗧𝗔𝗦𝗧𝗘 𝗢𝗙 𝗬𝗢𝗨 ── 𝘚.𝘚𝘛𝘐𝘓𝘐𝘕𝘚𝘒𝘐

♡ 𝗖𝗛𝗔𝗣𝗧𝗘𝗥 𝗘𝗜𝗚𝗛𝗧𝗬-𝗧𝗛𝗥𝗘𝗘 ♡

♡ 𝙩𝙖𝙨𝙩𝙚 𝙤𝙛 𝙮𝙤𝙪 ♡
𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘱𝘵𝘦𝘳 eighty-three.

enchanted.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

PARRISH stood before Gerard Argent, hands stationed steadily by his sides and breathing steady enough to mimic midsummer wind. Next to Gerard, of course, was Chris. Both wore an accusing look -- and both dressed it up in nonchalant concern.

"I was part of an E-O-D team in Afghanistan. Explosive Ordinance Disposal." He glanced between them. "We handled I-E-D's."

"And what about before that?"

The deputy shrugged. "High School."

Sensing dishonesty in his tone like how a dog could sense a fresh cut a mile away, Gerard slammed an open book before his face. Parrish didn't jump, oddly, and instead forced his eyes downward onto the page. "What's that supposed to be?"

It was a drawing, obviously. An old one. An illustration of what seemed to be a dying man resting against thick tree roots and a hellhound being the cause of his demise. "Werewolf?"

"It's called a Hellhound."

A blanket of unease settled on them all. Thick. Itchy. Suffocating. Parrish wanted to tear it away.

Before he could speak, though, Chris did. "What else do you remember from Afghanistan?"

The deputy tried to blink away memories as they wriggled their way before his eyes. He tried to forget how heavy the army uniform was on his shoulders and how, at times, he wished he could hide behind the helmet instead.

He tried to ignore how shaky his hands had become over the years and how still he once had trained them to be. He tried to ignore the days he spent cutting red wires and radioing bomb squads and wishing the sunlight was the only type of heat he'd have to endure that day.

Gerard clipped a gun from his armory. "You said you came to Beacon Hills," He raised both brows at the sweatbeats coating Parrish's forehead. "Because you felt drawn here."

The memories of the knife above the wires came swarming in. As did the heat.

"You hid the bodies of the Chimeras." Gerard began.

"You've got a resistance to fire." Chris joined, circling him like the two hunters they were at their core.

He remembered how he clipped the wrong wire.