Eye of the Hurricane ▸ Scott McCall (2)

v. THREE FOLD DEATH

v. THREE FOLD DEATH

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        Without a second though, Stiles and Foster are bounding out of his jeep, sprinting toward the strawberry blonde bundled in a green jacket beside the Beacon Hills Community Pool. It turns out that after they lost all connection with Scott and Derek, whom could be possibly torn apart as they run, Lydia found a dead body at the pool. As if this night couldn't become any more bizarre than it already was.

        "Lydia?" Stiles shouts, the two sprinting toward her. "Lydia!" Lydia finally turns to face them. Making their way beside her, Stiles questions, "Lydia, are you okay?"

        Foster glances at her friend with worry, noticing her tear covered and fear stricken face. Whatever she saw must have really terrified her. 

        She lets out a shaky breath, choking out, "I'm okay. That, over there, not okay."

        Foster glances over toward where Lydia nodded. Sitting upon the lifeguard's chair is a boy, his throat slit and the deep crimson colored blood soaking him. It drips down his arms, drenching his shirt and jeans, and even dripping onto the ground as well, creating a puddle of blood. Bile rises in Foster's throat, the blonde swallowing as she tries to keep from throwing up at the gruesome sight.

        "Okay, yeah, alright," Stiles breathes out shakily, stuffing his hand into his pocket in search of something. "I'm gonna call my dad."

        "I already called 9-1-1."

        Foster's and Stiles' heads whip up, the two looking at her in complete confusion. She already called 9-1-1? They hadn't even arrived yet, how could she call them when they aren't there yet. For all she knows there could have been some supernatural clue. Or maybe it was an alpha waiting to come out and tear everyone's throat out.

        "You called the police before you called us?" Stiles questions, his left eye twitching due to annoyance.

        "I'm supposed to call you first when I find a dead body?" Lydia questions, her voice continuing to waver slightly with each word.

        Stiles' body jolts forward, the boy exclaiming, "Yes!"

        Foster shivers slightly due to the cold, rubbing her hand along the side of her arm. This night had went from awful to worse in a split second, Foster having absolutely no idea what to do right now. First, Scott could possibly be dead, that thought alone becoming enough to make her feel queasy, and now Lydia's found a dead body whom has their throat ripped out. The scene was beyond disturbing, Foster only hoping that the police show up soon.

        Foster finds herself backing away from Stiles and Lydia, the police sirens wailing softly in the distance. Stiles continues to check Lydia and make sure that she's alright, seeing as though he's hopelessly in love with her. In all honesty, Foster's just waiting for the day when Lydia realizes that she has reciprocating feelings toward Stiles. They'd honestly make the perfect couple in Beacon Hills.

        Without even thinking, Foster's fingers dance across the screen of her phone as she scrolls to Scott's contact, quickly calling him. She trembles softly, unsure if he's even alive right now. Words are unable to describe how crushed she would be if he didn't answer her call, it would only seal her fears.

        The phone rings and Foster awaits for a response nervously, soon biting on the tip of her thumb softly.

        Once the call connects, a sigh of relief quickly escapes through Foster's lips. "Scott?"