The lights from sirens of the police cars beam as the cars drive into the dark. The heavy and dark shoes of an officer set foot on the dry leaves of the woods. Several flashlights glow, guiding the path. The search dog barks with more aggression as they move forward. They were surely looking for something rather dangerous with the highest level of caution.
----
Amongst the messy room, with rock music playing on the radio, Scott McCall was sitting shirtless, fixing the white threads of his lacrosse stick. He punches into it, to make sure everything he did held securely. After placing his newly repaired stick on his bed, he grabs onto the crowbar and starts pulling himself doing some chin-ups. His muscular arms pull his body up several times until he stops to land on his feet. He walks to the wash basin, brushes his teeth and washes his face to feel a little fresher and relaxed.
He looks at his reflection in the mirror but is soon distracted by a strange shuffling sound. A noise that someone was approaching. He bites his lip being fearful more than curious. He grabs his baseball bat and walks out to the porch. He peers around, left and right when a boy just drops down from the trellis above him. Both of them shout and panic with Scott, in terror holds out his bat firmly, ready to attack any moment when a streak of realisation reaches his mind.
"STILES WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING?" He yells at him.
"You weren't answering your phone," Says the boy hanging upside down. "Why do you have a bat?" He questions, like him appearing there like that was completely nothing to be freaked out about and having a conversation with him in such a position was normal.
"I thought you were a predator," Scott answers.
"A pre-" Stiles spits out a laugh. "Wha- Okay, I know it's late but you gotta hear this, I saw my dad leave twenty minutes ago. Dispatch called. They're bringing in every officer from the Beacon Department and even the State Police." He says still hanging upside down with his hands in the air.
"For what?" Scott asks, being confused.
"Two joggers found a body in the woods." He finally frees himself from the trellis and jumps down landing on his feet in front of Scott.
"A dead body?"
"No, a body of water," Stiles says "Yes, dumb-ass, a dead body." He quickly climbs up the short railing, making his way onto the porch.
"You mean like murdered?"
"Nobody knows yet," He shakes his head, with his hand on his hips. Just that it was a girl, probably in her twenties."
"Hold on. If they found a body, what are they looking for?"
"That's the best part," Stiles says, smiling with energy, seeming all happy about it. "They only found half." He sings."We're going,"
----
The old blue jeep roars before it comes to a stop and its headlights flash directly on the sign, "Beacon Hills PRESERVE. NO ENTRY AFTER DARK."
"We're seriously doing this," Scott asks, being unsure as he shuts the door.
" You're the one always bitching that nothing ever happens in this town." Stiles says, turning on his flashlight. He pats Scott's back as he starts walking forward.
"I was trying to get a good night's sleep for practice tomorrow," Scott says and begins to follow him.
"Right, 'cause sitting on the bench is such a gruelling effort." Stiles makes a comment as they continue to walk into the obscure woods.
"No, because I'm playing this year. In fact, I'm making first line."
"Hey, that's the spirit." Stiles encourages sarcastically, "Everyone should have a dream. Even a pathetically unrealistic one." Scott chuckles as they still keep walking. After a few seconds of silence, Scott asks, "Just out of curiosity, which half of the body are we looking for?"
