Chapter 1: Chapter 1;
Scott was in his room, fiddling with his lacrosse stick in preparation for tomorrow. His phone had rung but when he saw the caller id, he ignored it. All that was on his mind for the upcoming school day tomorrow and the lacrosse tryouts. At least he was until he heard a noise outside. He went over for a bat and quietly went to see what it was. I carefully moved off to the front porch and raised the bat to be ready when a shape suddenly fell down in front of him and caused him to scream. And it was screaming to. Scott was close to swinging the bat before he got a good look at what, or rather who, it was.
"Stiles! What the hell are you doing?!" Scott yelled off at him.
"You weren't answering your phone!" He was dangling upside down at him but still answered him as if he normally talked to people this way. He looked to the bat in Scott's hand. "Why do you have a bat?"
"I thought you were a predator," Scott gasped.
"A pre-?" He shook it off. "Look, I know it's late, but you've got to hear this. I saw my dad leave about twenty minutes ago. Dispatch call. They're bringing every officer in Beacon Department. Even state police."
"For what?" Scott asked getting curious.
"Two joggers found a body." He sounded like Christmas came early. He then went to free himself from hanging off the roof and he landed right on his feet.
"You mean like a dead body?"
Stiles excitement dwindled a bit. "No, a body of water. Yes dumbass a dead body!" he sarcastically shouted.
Scott disregarded his friend's sarcasm. "You mean a murder?"
"No one knows yet, only that it's a girl in her mid-twenties."
Scott was taken aback. "Hold on, if they've found the body, what are they looking for?"
"That's the best part." Stiles squeaked. "They only found half," he said not losing a beat. "We're going!"
Soon enough, the two of them were in his jeep and were pulling up to the Beacon Hills Reserve. The two of them came out and started to trek into the woods.
"I still can't believe we're doing this," Scott said as they walked off together into the dark with only the light from Stiles' flashlight giving them any sight ahead of them, outside the light of the moon overhead.
"You're the one who is always bitching about how nothing happens in this town," Stiles said back to him.
"I was trying to get a good night's sleep before practice tomorrow."
"Yeah," Stiles said sarcastically. "Because sitting on the bench is such a grueling effort."
"No," he said back. "Because I'm playing this year. In fact, I'm making first line." There was no doubt in his voice as he said that.
"Hey, that's the spirit!" he said still being sarcastic. "Everyone should have a dream, even an unrealistic one." Stiles said.
There was a reason why the two of them were always on the bench. Scott wasn't able to overexert himself without his asthma acting up and as for Stiles, well, he wasn't exactly the most graceful person around.
After a while, Scott thought of something. "Stiles, what part of the body are we actually looking for?"
"Uh, didn't really think about that." Answered Stiles.
"And what if the killer of the girl is still out here?" Scott asked.
"Didn't really think about that either," he answered to that one.
Scott huffed. "It's nice you thought this out with your usual level of detail." He halted as his breathing started to suffer. He took his inhaler and shook it before he took a whiff. "Maybe the severe asthmatic should have the flashlight?" he coughed.
Stiles halted in his pace and went back and gave it to him. "Fine, here you go."
"Stiles?" he said as pointed his head out into the distance.
They looked over to see a bunch of lights moving about. It was Stiles' father and his search party.
Weekly Power Status
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Ranking 
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