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Scott's POV

I entered the school as the warning bell rang. I picked up the speed in my walking so I wouldn't be late. Luckily, I reached my first class on time.
I sat down in my seat, and waited for Lydia and Malia to come.
Minutes passed, and the final bell rang. As the teacher walked into the class, shutting the door behind him, I got a message from Lydia.
With Malia. We are helping someone. Cover for me x the text read. I sighed, shoving my phone back into the pocket of my jeans.
"Attendance!" The teacher announced.
Names were called out, and I attempted to come up with a lie for Lydia and Malia.
"Lydia Martin!" He called out. No answer.
"Uh, she went home. She's sick." I shouted out. The teacher looked up at me, before looking down at the attendance sheet and marking something down. I bit my lip nervously.
"Scott McCall." He continued.
"Here." I stated.
"Stiles Stilinski!" The male teacher shouted. No answers.
"He left with the Sheriff." Someone said from behind me. I turned around to see Alexander Shaw, sitting behind Lydia's empty seat.
"What?" He asked. "I saw him this morning."
I narrowed my eyes, before turning back around.
"Malia Tate." The teacher called out.
"Also sick. Must be the flu." I spoke out. The teacher didn't acknowledge my lie this time, and wrote something down.

The bell of second period rang, and I gathered my things on the top of my desk into my bag. I picked up my knapsack, throwing the strap over my shoulder as I noticed Alexander was gone. And then I remembered...
I never saw him enter second period in the first place..
I speed-walked out of the classroom, and down the hall towards my locker. I didn't see him at all.
Suddenly, a gunshot echoed through the hall of the school.
I dropped my bag, before following where the sound came from and the scent of gunpowder. There was a mix of screams and cries coming from the crowd of people running from where the sound came. I was the only one running towards it.
People gave me looks of insanity, as if I were the psycho.
I continued to brush past shoulders, squeezing by the mass of bodies. I turned at a corner and stopped in my tracks at the scene.
A blonde, brown-eyed girl who is in my English class, laid stiff on the cold floor of the school. A puddle of blood formed around her, and it continued to grow.
I quickly ran over to her, putting two fingers to her neck. I felt for a pulse, and luckily I felt a light one.
I took my phone out, dialling 911.
After a ring, a police officer answered.
"I need an ambulance! Someone was shot! Beacon Hills University!" I shouted into the phone.
The lady told me that the paramedics and police were in their way. She then asked me questions about the victim, and told me what to do.
I took my hand, and applied pressure to the bullet wound on the girl's side. I looked around, trying to find a teacher or anyone that actually knows what they're doing. But my eyes landed on something unsettling.
Across the lockers, in blood, the words "The Phantom Killer Was Here" was spelt out.
Minutes later, I heard sirens from outside. Soon, I could hear the paramedics running in. I picked up the girl, before lightly running to the paramedics. They had a gurney, so the minute they saw her they told me to put her on the rolling bed. They suggested I were to wash my hands, and go home after they thanked me for my work. It was hard for me to go, since I wanted to make sure the girl was okay, but they forced me to leave unless I was family. So I did.

I walked out of the school after the paramedics put the stranger into the ambulance. As they drove off, the crowd of people scattered outside looked at me and fell silent at the sight of blood on my white tee. I zipped my sweater up, which luckily wasn't full of blood, to hide the blood stained shirt. I began to walk down the front steps when I heard murmurs and whispers. I ignored everyone's staring eyes and began to walk home. If I stayed any longer, the police would've questioned me as soon as they arrive. The last thing I need is to be interrogated.

Once I got home, I took a long shower. Most of the time was consisted of me thinking about the girl who got shot, instead of actually showering. I felt terrible, and for some reason... guilty. Then I began to think about Alexander. He was in class for first period, but he wasn't for second. And that's when the gunshot went off. I began to believe that maybe Stiles was right, and that this Alex person was a bit unusual. That...or he just has bad timing.
Once I finished washing up, I put a pair of jeans and a black t-shirt on with a jean jacket over it. I decided to head over to Lydia's house to see if she was alright, and to talk about what happened. She has been acting weird lately. She began to get that gaze in her eyes like she was absent, when she was clearly there. I knew she was having visions. It's pretty obvious if you've known her for as long as I have. She just isn't herself.

I parked my motorcycle in the driveway of Lydia's large house. I hung the helmet off the handle, before walking up to the front door and knocking.
The door slowly opened, and I saw Malia peeking out.
"S-Scott!" She exclaimed before completely opening the door. "What're you doing here?! Shouldn't you be at school?" She asked.
I shook my head, entering the house without being invited it. "I could be asking you the same question." I countered.
"Where's Lydia?" I asked.
"Right here." I heard a voice say from behind me. I turned around, where I saw Lydia standing in the middle of her living room. But she wasn't alone.
A blonde teenage girl sat on her couch, looking at me as if I were a ghost. It never crossed my mind that maybe she was the girl Liam told me about.
But that's not all I noticed.
On her neck, seemed to be two symbols, but one specifically stood out to me.
My pack symbol.

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