𝐃𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐤 𝐇𝐚𝐥𝐞 𝐈𝐦𝐚𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐬

Death of me

I walk around the rest of the apartment, finding everything in place and in a total contrast to the living room I was just in. Except for the kitchen where a glass lays scattered on the floor surrounded by red wine, which I assume is where she was when everything kicked off. Something about this seems off, Y/n has stayed as far as possible from any of the supernatural drama for years and she certainly wasn't the type of person who would be of enough value to any of us to be taken as leverage. This was either completely random or Y/n has some secrets of her own that has caught up with her.

"What the hell happened?" A panicked voice demands, and I look up from the wine puddle to see Lydia standing in the entry of the kitchen, eyes large and heart raising as she looks around us. "Where's Y/n?" She asks in a rush, already moving to pull out her phone from her back, probably to call Scott and Stiles.

"I don't know." I offer simply and shrug. "I assume someone took her." I add and Lydia rolls her eyes before walking back into the dining room, voice frantic as she attempts to explain the situation to a very confused Stiles. My eyes follow her as she leaves, only to catch a glimpse of a piece of paper lying next to the fridge, where the phone is mounted to the wall as well as a pen and notepad that fell to the floor. I pick the piece of paper up quickly, reading the rushed scribble of what appears to be an address, crumbling it in my hand when Lydia returns.

"Scott and Stiles are on their way." She informs me, calmer than she was when she first came in. "I guess that means that you'll be leaving then?" She asks and I nod, lightly shoving passed her as I walk out of the kitchen. "Why were you here in the first place, Derek?" She asks, momentarily making me pause.

"I had a that feeling something bad happened." I admit honestly after a pause and she sighs softly.

"I know how that feels." She notes lightly and I tilt my head back to nod at her, gesturing to the living room.

"Good luck." I say and turn back towards the door. "I hope you find her." I say and leave before she could say anything else.

This isn't my responsibility. Her friends know that she's gone, and her friends will find her, but if this address means something then there is no harm in checking it out. If I find her then good and if I don't then at least I can say I did something. But there is something about the way it's written, the way the paper was recklessly torn from the notepad, the way it was scattered on the floor- it's like she was in a rush, like she was trying to tell us something. Or maybe she wasn't. Maybe it had no connection to whatever happened, but I was heading out of town anyway and I might as well make a stop.

The drive seems unreasonably long, leading me further and further away from Beacon Hills into wherever this, passing abandoned houses and buildings, abandoned factories and gas stations- a ghost town if I've ever had to describe one. Why on earth would she have an address to something here and if there's no one left in this town, who the hell could she be with?

The GPS beeps as I pull up in front of yet another abandoned building, a crooked and halfway hanging sign announcing the name of what appears to be an old hospital. Old ambulances randomly parked around the entrance, looking as if they were left in a hurry. I would be the first to admit that this was creepy as shit.

I didn't even have to leave the car to smell the blood, it is an intense scent, hers clearly, which at least makes me aware that I'm in the right place. It also makes me aware of the fact that wherever she is, she is badly injured and since we have no idea when precisely she went missing, she could also just as possibly be dead already.

I follow the scent carefully; her blood only being masked the strong aroma of multitudes of dust layers that once again proves how long it's been since this hospital was in working condition. I don't know how many stairs I climb before I finally hear heartbeats, only two- one hers maybe- or at least I hope it is.