Blue Moon » Stilinski

Five

I'm sorry it's taken me so long, but I've finally updated. (Can't really control the whole 'writer's block' thing.) Anyway, please VOTE. COMMENT. FAN. ENJOY. :D

                                                               Chapter Five

                                                                •  Allison  •

The next day, all anyone can talk about is the murder.

            Whispers snake their way through the halls, lingering in the ears of wary travelers. A tale of gore told from an anxious tongue, echoed by half-hearted sympathy.

            According to the Sheriff, the murder occurred before midnight― but it’s hard to be certain when you barely have a body on which to perform an autopsy.

            I grasp at the rumors floating around me, piecing together what sounds like the truth. A woman was jogging through the woods earlier this morning when she stumbled across the shredded remains of a middle-aged bank teller. I didn’t know the victim personally― and when humans aren’t acquainted with one another, they tend not to think twice about someone’s passing, even if their skin was literally peeled from their bones. Six months ago, I might not have really cared about a murder. Heartless, but it’s true. I would have been more scared out of my mind, worried about my own personal safety― the usual teenage reaction. Me, me, me, oh there’s a dead guy that’s sad, me, me, me.

            But that was six months ago.

            Now, I know that this was not some random attack― and if it was, nine out of ten times the attacker wasn’t quite human. Murder doesn’t frighten me― not in the way that it used to― because I am no longer that teenager that thinks the world revolves around them. I don’t need my dad to reassure me, tell me that everything will be fine before popping in a copy of Dirty Dancing. No. I can take care of myself.

            I scan the halls for Scott or Stiles or Lydia or anyone who knows anything about the supernatural. Some part of me, hopeful and lacking common sense, believed that Beacon Hills could finally be a safe place. With the death of Peter and the absence of both the alpha pack and the kanima, I figured things could return to normal. Well, as normal as things could ever be. At the very least, not having a murder every other day.

            I guess that was just too much to ask for.

            As words swarm around me, my brain fills with conspiracies and questions, already seeking solutions. There is just so much that I don’t understand. About last night’s murder: What attacked him? It wasn’t even a full moon. About Scott: Why does he keep avoiding me? What is going on with him? About Lydia: Why all of a sudden is she acting like a normal person again? About the alpha pack: Why would they come to Beacon Hills because of Aubrey, only to kill her? Where did they go?

            About me.

            The bell rings, signaling that first period would be starting in just a few minutes. Too overcome with the whispers and my poisonous thoughts, my mind wanders and my eyes glaze over. I don’t even notice where I’m going until I run into something solid and then I’m falling.

            The whole concept of falling is strange. Everything seems so concrete one second, and the next it’s nothing. Just air. Everything seems to slow down, as if time itself is standing still, greedy eyes anticipating the inevitable drop. It’s a brief moment where breath seems tangible and there’s no pain.