Survival of the Fittest || supernatural

Chapter 3

Now, I may be 15, but I feel like a 8 year old to even freaking consider this stuff! Werewolves don't exist! I mean, at least I think they don't.. My eyes scan over my computer screen again and again and every time I read the myth, I become more convinced they could possibly exist. I swear I'm going insane... The possibility of these things being real are as likely as Bigfoot walking up to you on the streets to say hi.

Everything that I had researched related to Jill and Travis in some sort of distorted way. It almost makes perfect sense up in my conscience. The no basement rule, the people in the pictures, sudden outbursts of anger, sensitivity to silver, the scratching at night, it all adds up. Or-- just wait for it-- OR IT COULD BE COMPLETELY NORMAL!

Wow, Grace, you have really lost your God damn mind haven't you. Who am I kidding? Werewolves?! WEREWOLVES?! Werewolves are myths; Legends, creatures of fantasy, made up, and nothing else. They're--

The loud door bell rings throughout the house, interrupting my battling thoughts. I lazily get up with a groan and drag myself to the front door. It takes me a moment for my brain to register after opening the door two nicely dressed men in suits were analyzing my every move with a stern look.

I blink my eyes at the two tall men in front of me in a surprised daze. "U-Uh can I help you?" Are you here to capture the werewolves? I mentally beat myself down for even thinking that stupid ass question.

"Hi, are your parents home?" The taller one on the left asks, his voice deep to match the look in his dark brown eyes. He's about 6"4 and, in my opinion, extremely intimidating. His shoulder-length, brunette hair falls down around his face and his expression shows nothing but concern and just... He has this look of a defeated man.

I wasn't going to just tell them I didn't have parents like an ass hole, so I call out for Travis. He's jogging down the stairs in a matter of seconds.

"Nice tee." The other man smirks, pointing to my Def Leppard shirt. This guy looks like the complete opposite of the man next to him in every way possible. His dark hair is cut short, spiked up in the front. The man's eyes were almost a dark green and light freckles covered his cheeks and jawline along with some stubble. Another intimidating look, but obviously has a great taste in music. "Thanks.." I mumble with a shy smile.

"Hi fellas. How can I help you?" Travis asks and I take a step back from the door. I walk over and sit on the bottom of the stair case to listen in on what they have to say. If you haven't already guessed, I'm kind of a nosey little shit.

The two men pull out FBI federal agents badges and I freeze, my muscles tensing under my skin. "I'm agent Bradford and this is my partner agent Carter. We're here to investigate the murders that are occurring in the area. Mind if we ask you a few questions?" The man with the long hair glances back at me for a moment.

Murders? Holy shit! My mind swirls with billions of thoughts and questions and I feel like I'm going to vomit. Of course Mrs. Patricks's has me spend a week with this dysfunctional, eerie couple in a town where murders are currently underway. Wow, just my luck.

Travis lets them inside and agent Bradford, the long haired guy, smiles awkwardly at me with a small nod. I honestly don't know what to do. Should I go upstairs to my room? My head is buzzing with so many thoughts I think my head is gonna explode like a big water balloon.

The moose of a man stops his partner, whispering something to him. Agent Carter looks at me and back at Bradford. They have a small argument between themselves, obviously talking about me, before agent Carter takes a deep breath and walks over to me, sitting by my side.

"Hey, uh.. Sport." He says, his voice deep and raspy. It's enough to scare off anyone who even dares to look at him let alone have a full conversation with this man. It even scares me for a moment. Can I just ditch this foster family already? This is all too much to be completely honest.