Series Rewrite (A Teen Wolf Fanfiction)

Second Chance at First Line Part 3

It was well past 9:30 as the three of us waited in the trees in Stiles' jeep. We'd been waiting for an hour for Derek to leave. His sleek black car was sitting in front of the burnt Hale house. Honestly, it wasn't much of a house. More accurately, a mansion. It had three stories at one point, and was wider than two houses put together. The back half of it was nearly gone, the rest a burnt and charred mess. How anyone could live there, Were or not, was beyond me.

Finally, Derek came out, keys in hand. The car chirped, and he got in and drove off. As soon as he was out of earshot, Stiles drove up closer to the house and parked, the engine turning off with a dull clank. We got out, got the shovels and followed Scott to where he smelled the body.

"Wait, something's different," Scott said. Stiles turned on a flashlight, waving it over the black walls of the house.

"Different how?" he asked.

"I don't know," Scott answered. We stopped at a pile of fresh dirt. "Let's just get this over with." We started to dig, throwing out the dirt over our shoulders.

The hole got deeper and deeper, and the moon higher and higher, then lower and lower. Owls hooted, and my ears were on high alert for incoming activity.

Scott wiped his face with his jacket sleeve. "This is taking way too long."

"Just keep going," Stiles huffed.

"What if Derek comes back?" I asked nervously.

"Then we get the hell out of here."

"What if he catches us?" Scott asked.

"I have a plan for that."

"Which is?" Scott asked, since I was willing to accept Stiles' answer.

"You run one way, I run another, and her the other. Whoever he catches first, too bad." Stiles shrugged, looking at me and Scott. I stood, stopping my digging and blinked at him.

"That's a terrible plan," I groaned. I shoved my shovel in the dirt and it thudded like I'd hit something solid, but not hard. Stiles told me to stop, his hand reaching out and holding his hand over mine to shop me from shoveling. He didn't even realize he was doing it, but my heart nearly burst out of my chest.

Stiles threw his shovel out and bent down, only removing his touch to wipe away dirt from the area. Scott helped, and I stood over them, content to let them find the body. There seemed to be a brown bag closed by knotted rope.

"Hurry," I said.

"Yeah, well, did he have to tie the thing in like 900 knots?" Stiles snarked, his long fingers working deftly to work out the knots. Scott started working on another knot, while I gulped and jittered nervously, looking around into the woods. Nothing was coming, but the anticipation was killing me.

I heard them (mostly Stiles) scream and they flew back, knocking me backwards as they jumped out of the hole.

"What the hell is that?" Stiles asked after he stopped screaming.

In the now open bag was the chopped of head and half-torso of a wolf. It's eyes were blue, like cataracts. The cataracts of death. It's mouth was open, tongue hanging slightly out. I wiped myself off and put my hand on my hips to look up them disapprovingly.

"It's a wolf. And it's dead, so will you chill?" I asked.

"Yeah! I can see that! God, don't you ever get scared?!" Stiles grumbled at me.

"No. Scott, I thought you said you smelled human blood?" I said, climbing out of the hole.

Scott shrugged at me, telling me with his body that it wasn't his fault. "I told you something was different."