▪︎𝘤𝘢𝘶𝘴𝘦 𝘪 𝘭𝘪𝘷𝘦 𝘧𝘰𝘳
𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘺 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘮𝘰𝘷𝘦,
𝗜'𝗱 𝗱𝗶𝗲 𝘄𝗶𝘁𝗵𝗼𝘂𝘁
𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝘁𝗮𝘀𝘁𝗲 𝗼𝗳 𝘆𝗼𝘂.
in which an ordinary girl soon finds out that she's not as ordinary as she once thought, all while trying to hide her f...
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♡ 𝙩𝙖𝙨𝙩𝙚 𝙤𝙛 𝙮𝙤𝙪♡ 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘱𝘵𝘦𝘳 twenty-five
scream!
─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───
DALLAS LAY HER HEAD on her hand as she listened to Miss Blake. Her manicured nails tapped against the oak wood of her desk while she rubbed the pink gloss on her lips.
"Good Morning." the teacher stood before the chalkboard and spoke with a heavy heart. "As you all know, Mr. Harris is still missing - I mean, sick. - Anyway, I'm filling in while we all hope and pray for a more qualified substitute to take my place. Okay, so let's get started, shall we?"
There had been a recent flair in accidents recently and even more murders before that - all including healers. Stiles chewed anxiously on his pen and nudged Scott. "Hey, my dad said that the ER wasn't strangled but died from asphyxiation. They just don't know how."
"Do you think that the on-call doctor could still be alive?" The werewolf whispered. During the hospital craze, one of Melissa's coworkers had fallen missing and was yet to be found - alive or dead.
"I don't know, but Scott, there's got to be at least 20 other doctors in that hospital." Stiles tried to control his jittery leg. "Any one of them could be next."
⊱ ──────ஓ๑♡๑ஓ ────── ⊰
Noah Stilinski stood in front of James Garcia, conversing with him and his deputy. "Have you ever seen anything like this? Any old cases you've covered?" The Sheriff seemed royally confused by the sudden disappearances in town. They were all stood in Deaton's pet clinic and came to the terrifying realisation that he, too, was now missing.
James shook his head. "I'm afraid not." He crossed his arms. "But I'll help any way I can."
The two was cut off by Scott McCall, who entered the pet clinic frantically with a broken look plastered across his features. He knew exactly what had happened.
Meanwhile, at home, Dallas bounced the beauty blender across her skin and fluffed her hair up in the vanity mirror. Although, her routine came to a halt as she heard the soft knocking against her front door. Curiously, she dropped her makeup brushes and took small steps down her staircase.
The rain pattered against the concrete but was overpowered by faint sniffling. Pulling the door open by its cold handle, Dallie furrowed her eyebrows at Lydia Martin, who's mascara had become smudged with tears.
"Lydia?" She mumbled out. Her strawberry blonde hair was tucked underneath her fur hood and her hands shoved into the pockets."
The Martin wiped her eyes and sighed wearily. "Can I come in?"
