Driven by Instinct

Chapter 2: Sunday

The sun's rays, piercing through the curtains, effectively chased away the last remnants of sleep I had been fighting to hold on to in the final moments, hoping to delay the inevitable moment when I would have to open my eyes and face reality. However, resigning myself to the undeniable defeat, I groaned and opened my eyes, sitting up while looking at the clock on the wall. 6:20. It was going to be a long day. Given that my body usually woke up with clockwork precision after eight hours of sleep, I treated sleeping for over eleven hours as a small personal success.

After using the bathroom, I dressed in my running gear and braided my shoulder-length dark brown hair into a tight French braid. Without a doubt, I considered myself one of those people for whom daily rituals were crucial to staying sane. And a morning jog in the beautiful natural surroundings of the forests in California would undoubtedly have a positive impact on my state of mind.

I put on my sport watch and headed to the kitchen, where I hastily wrote a few lines of explanation in case one of the Stilinski men woke up before I returned and found the apartment empty. I then made my way toward the nearby forest, where my legs carried me along paths I had never walked before. Ever since I can remember, I've loved the smell of the forest. Living in Boston, I didn't always have time to venture out of the city for hikes—my morning jogs were usually among the single-family homes of the Roxbury neighborhood or the nearby green space of Franklin Park.

However, the forest in Beacon Hills definitely had a different atmosphere than any green space I had visited in Boston. As I moved through the dense greenery, it felt like time had stopped, and the land seemed much less transformed by human hands than other places I knew. It was wilder, more untamed, and yet beautifully silent. In that moment, I gave myself a mental high-five for deciding to leave my phone and headphones at home. Passing through the meadows, I even noticed traces of the morning dew that hadn't yet disappeared under the sun's rays.

I became so absorbed in the scenery that it wasn't until I heard a beep from my watch that I realized I had run 3 miles, which was half of my usual distance. Considering my terrible sense of direction, I decided to retrace my steps. As I turned to head back, I caught a glimpse of some ruins in the corner of my eye—remnants of a two-story building, probably a former residence. Driven by curiosity, I approached to get a closer look. The state of the house indicated it had been destroyed by fire, but despite the extensive damage, it was clear that in its prime, it had been a beautiful example of architecture in the manor style. I could see the characteristic porch supported by four columns, several dormers, and windows that I could only imagine once had wooden shutters.

I moved closer to examine the ruins, maybe even peek inside, but after a few steps, I stopped, feeling an odd sense of unease. I felt as though something was pushing me away from the building, and goosebumps formed on my arms.

After a moment of reflection, I decided to ignore these irrational feelings and, with quick steps, I climbed the steps and opened the door. Upon entering, I was met with a large hallway, with a pair of wide double doors on either side. The room to the right had probably once been a living room, while the left side showed remnants of what had once been a kitchen and dining area. Straight ahead, a staircase led to the upper floor, and sitting on the stairs at that moment was... a cat. "What's a cat doing in a place like this?" I thought, examining the animal, which didn't appear to be a stray—it was neither thin nor injured, and its black fur gleamed. The creature didn't react to my presence, its golden eyes fixed on me.

"Hey kitty, are you lost?" I said calmly, extending my hand toward the animal.

In none of the scenarios that had played out in my mind did I expect the cat to react so violently to such innocent words. Its whole body tensed, its pupils narrowed, and an ominous growl began to emerge from its mouth, combined with nervous licking.