Accidentally In Love (Peter Hale Fanfiction) ON HOLD

Chapter Ten: Demons

                       Despite such a wonderful evening the night before, I woke up Saturday morning in a bad, bad mood. After making out pretty heavily with Peter until around midnight, I’d crawled into bed and almost immediately fallen asleep. Unfortunately, my exhaustion could not overcome the bubbling pit of anxiety in the heart of my stomach, and I woke up drenched in sweat three hours later, terrified from a nightmare that Derek was secretly the one murdering people in town. Stiles’ words chased themselves around my thoughts for a while as I lay in bed, calming my erratic heartbeat and chewing on the corner of my bottom lip. Finally, around four a.m., I got up and began pouring my thoughts and concerns out onto paper. Now, I was no writer - I’d never even been able to consistently write in a journal growing up - but I was a visual learner.

                  So I sat criss-crossed on the floor of my bedroom, scribbling names and facts on little sticky notes and smacking them across the empty wall in my room. Apart from the bed, the closet, and a tiny bedside table that consistently held my face cream and a few wrappers, my bedroom was still pretty bare. An entire wall across from the only window in the room remained completely blank, and so I seized the opportunity to take all of my confusion and tension and throw it up there.

Peter. Scott. Derek. Cora. Stiles. Allison. Lydia. After some consideration, I added a few more names to the list. Annie. Erica. Bobby Finstock. Concluding all of the people I knew in Beacon Hills so far, I now added the names of those that I didn’t but who were still vital to my investigation. Laura Hale. Kate Argent. Victim #1. Victim #2. Christina. Spreading out all of the sticky notes on my wall, I began to write in the various connections and descriptions between everyone. I pooled Peter, Derek, Laura, and Cora underneath a sticky entitled Hale Family. Beside Laura’s sticky note, I also added one that said (deceased). Looking around my barren room for something to connect the stickies, I found some red ribbon and strung it up between Laura, Victim #1, and Victim #2 and wrote “Victims” on a sticky that went on the ribbon. I also added ribbons entitled “High schoolers”, “Adults”, and the hardest one of all: “Werewolves”. Stringing up all of the connections I could think of, I then began to fill in important factors in each person. Derek’s Ex-girlfriend. Derek’s current girlfriend. Lacrosse coach at BHH. Best friends. Siblings. Family. Motive for killing victims. No motive yet. Possible suspect. Definite suspect. Unrelated as of right now. Werewolf. Werewolf hunter.

                       As I struggled over what to write underneath Peter’s sticky besides “Uncle of Derek and Cora” and “Werewolf”, I suddenly grew frustrated. It was becoming plainly obvious that one of the Hales was the one killing people, but I didn’t want to admit it. I couldn’t. Besides, any surviving member of the Hale family wouldn’t have killed one of their own; they only had a valuable few family members left. So I threw down my Sharpie, adding one last sticky underneath the Hale family category before crawling back into bed around seven a.m. to try and get two hours of sleep before going into work at nine-thirty.

Definite suspects.

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                           Utterly fatigued and grumpy, I headed into work with the barest brush of makeup covering my imperfections and a simple outfit of jeans and a loose, faded red button-down. Hair in a messy side-braid, I got straight to work without even greeting Annie. Not that I was mad at her, because I wasn’t, but I was confused and annoyed at the fact that I still had no idea what was going on in this town and no way to figure it out. Meanwhile, somebody (possibly one of my friends) was going around killing people, all people with some relation to the Hales or the Hale fire. Great.