𝙷𝚘𝚗𝚎𝚢 𝚆𝚑𝚒𝚜𝚔𝚎𝚢 𝙴𝚢𝚎𝚜 - 𝚂𝚝𝚒𝚕𝚎𝚜 𝚂𝚝𝚒𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚜𝚔𝚒 𝚇 𝙾𝙲

𝙲𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝙴𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝

As Stiles drove, we noticed cop cars zooming past us. "What's that about?" I questioned out loud, feeling a knot of unease forming in my stomach. We were almost at my house when I saw the vehicles come to a sudden stop near it. "What's happening..." I mumbled, my nerves growing. "I... I'm not sure," Stiles replied, glancing at me and then back at the scene. He pulled up to my house, and my heart raced as I took in the sight of police cars, an ambulance, and a fire truck. It was a chaotic scene. We quickly hopped out of the car. "Mom?! Dad?!" I call out starting to walk toward my house, a cop stopping me.

"Mom?! Dad?!" I called out, my voice filled with worry, and I started to walk toward my house. A cop intercepted me, blocking my path. "Miss, you can't go in," he said in a plain tone. "What do you mean I can't?! This is my house!" I snapped back, annoyance lacing my words. "Where are my parents?!" I hissed, trying to push past him.

The officer held me back, attempting to restrain me. Frustration boiled within me, and I forcefully shoved the cop away, determined to find my parents. "Mom!" I yelled, pushing through the crowd of people. The fear in my voice was palpable. "Let her go," Sheriff Stilinski's voice cut through the commotion as another officer tried to stop me.

 A mixture of sadness and guilt filled his face. "Sheriff... Where are they? Where are my parents?" I pleaded, looking away from him and scanning the faces around me. "Steph..." he said softly, trying to calm me down. My front door stood wide open, beckoning me, and I took shaky steps toward it, with the Sheriff by my side. "Persephone, listen to me," he insisted, his voice filled with concern. "Where are they? Mom! Dad!" I cried out, panic coursing through my body, overwhelming me.

"Persephone, they are dead," he finally said, his voice heavy with sorrow. He had given up on trying to break the news gently to me. I froze in my tracks, my entire being going still as I turned to face him, my gaze shifting between the Sheriff and Stiles.

"No..." I mumbled, tears welling up in my eyes. "They can't be! They were fine just a few hours ago. Tell me you're lying," I pleaded, my heart shattering into pieces. But their somber expressions told me the truth I didn't want to accept.

In a moment of anguish, I snapped and turned, running into my house. As I entered, the devastation before me intensified. A broken vase, shattered pictures strewn across the floor, a table in ruins, and the couch torn and tattered. Food from their interrupted dinner scattered across the carpet.

My house was trashed.

I raced through the house, my voice filled with desperation as I screamed for my parents. "Mom!" I cried out, pushing through each room. I checked their bedroom, hoping to find them there. "Dad!" I called, my voice trembling with fear. I checked the bathrooms, desperately hoping for any sign of their presence. "Answer me!" I yelled, my voice echoing through the house. I even ventured into the garage, my heart pounding in my chest with each futile attempt to locate them.

That's when I saw it, a trail of blood leading to a pool that surrounded my mother's lifeless form. "Mom!" I cried out, my voice filled with anguish, as I ran to her side and crumbled next to her. Her blood soaked my clothes, but in that moment, I couldn't care less about contaminating the crime scene. "No! No, no, no!" I wailed, my heart breaking into a million pieces. "Mommy! Please wake up," I whispered, my words choked with sorrow, as I desperately clung to the hope of her miraculous revival.

Hot tears streamed down my face, blurring my vision, but I turned and saw my father lying on the ground, surrounded by shattered glass from the dining room table. Paramedics were attending to him, their urgent voices a distant echo in my ears. "Daddy!" I screamed, propelled by a mixture of grief and disbelief. I ran to him, my body consumed by a searing pain, every sensation heightened. "Daddy, no! It's your princess. Wake up!" I pleaded, collapsing onto his chest and clutching his bloodied form. My hands became stained with the blood of both my parents, my forehead pressed against his chest as I sobbed inconsolably.