A ebony haired, tall, starved, and muscular 14 year old runs through the night. His ice blue eyes skirting the area of Beacon Hills for danger. His clothes are filthy; a t-shirt once white now a yellowed brown, tennis shoes of an unrecognizable color, and a pair of mud caked, torn up jeans. His arms, and face were covered in scrapes, burns, and scratches. He winced as a particularly nasty wound brushes against a tree in the yard of a house he was passing. He scowled, stopping, and putting a hand over it. He flinched as he pulled his hand away and saw his hand coated in crimson. The tree branch had scratched off a good portion of his scab, and now the injury was bleeding enough to cause blood loss. He gasped, and then, using his les injured arm, dug into his left pocket, coming out with a dime, half a granola bar, a and a bandaid much too small. He was out of supplies; it was either go to a hospital, or die. Still, he was torn between the two.
"Oh my gosh!" A woman shouted as her car headlights revealed the boy, and his bloody hand, "Are you okay?"
The azure eyes shot up towards her, a wide amount of panic within them. The woman then ran out of her car, and grabbed the boy's arm, whipping his bloody scrape towards her. It was a mass of scarlet red that was oozing down in his arm, and the scab was long gone. The slash went from his shoulder halfway down to his elbow, and the skin around it was turning a frightening palid. The boy panicked further, pulling away, and preparing to run, but the woman grabbed his other arm, and dragged him into her car. The boy was too shocked, and too dazed to struggle at this point. The woman put him in the backseat, laid him down, and tried to stop the bleeding. The boy passed out, but the bleeding was stopping. He still needed to go to the hospital, though, so she got in her car, and sped towards said location.
The boy shot up out of a hospital bed. The nurse, the woman who brought him in, immediately scrambled to his side, laying him back down, giving him a brief check over, and telling him to stay there before running to get the 'Sheriff'. The boy groaned, and started to get out of the bed, pulling out the IV. He sighed, and started to stand up, but the IV beeped loudly, making his eyes widen as he dizzily started to shakily run out of the room. He ran down the hallway, and towards the elevator, but a man -- the Sheriff -- grabbed him by the collar, and yanked him back. The nurse from earlier immediately apologized to the Sheriff for leaving the boy alone.
"It's alright," The Sheriff sighed, "It wasn't your fault. Go, Melissa, you're shift's over; I'll handle this one." Melissa nodded, and walked off. The Sheriff then led the boy back into his room, and then put the minor back in the bed. The boy groaned, and flung himself onto the bed, then winced, and sat up due to hitting his arm. He dangled his legs off the side.
"You need to listen to Melissa." The Sheriff told him, the boy did not respond, so the Sheriff continued, "I'm Sheriff Stilinski You're not in trouble, I just need to know where your parents are, who you are, and why you don't exist in the current records."
"My family died two years ago, and everyone thought I died with them." The boy sighed, "And I let them. My godfather would've abused, and hurt me. He already had hurt me and my sister when my parents weren't there. He hated my dad, and fell in love with my mom. He hated me in particular, because I constantly embarrassed and smart mouthed him."
"What's your name?" Sheriff Stilinski said after a moment of taking in this information.
"Daniel James Fenton, but I prefer to be called Danny." The boy - now dubbed Danny - sighed.
The Sheriff's eyes widened, everything making sense. Vlad Masters had killed himself a week ago, but this boy didn't seem to know that. He'd been constantly moving, constantly trying to evade detection, and it'd worked. Until now, that is.
"Danny...." The Sheriff took a deep breath, "Vladimir Masters killed himself a week ago, with a document with all his illegal transactions, and other immoral actions."
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FanfictionJust a bunch of stuff I will never finish. You have my permission to do with it what you will. Let me know what you do with them - I'd love to read it! Thanks!