xii. DEGREES OF SEPERATION

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xii. DEGREES OF SEPERATION

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        A week had passed since the death of Vernon Boyd occurred, the aftermath hanging heavy over each and everyone who witnessed it. Not only that, but it was now less than a month until the next full moon, meaning that they only had around two weeks to think of a plan in which they can stop Kali from attacking Derek, Isaac, and Cora. 

        Which is why Foster was a bit more than less than pleased to be parking her shitty Honda in the parking lot of BHHS at the ripe time of midnight. It turns out that Lydia was having another one of her feelings in which she usually ends up finding a dead body. Foster was in no mood to find a dead body, if she's being honest. She still hasn't fully recovered from the multiple she's already seen. It's not exactly something you forget about after a week.

        She climbed out of her car, glancing up to see Scott hopping off his motorcycle and Stiles slipping out of his jeep. All three of them wore similar looks of confusion, wondering where the hell Lydia Martin was.

        "Where is she?" Stiles demanded automatically, his concern toward the girl growing rapidly. Although, Foster didn't blame seeing as though he's in love with the strawberry blonde. They just needed to date already, in Foster's opinion.

        "Over here," Allison's voice sounded, the three glancing over to see Allison and Lydia off in the distance. 

        The jog their way over, the five glancing back and forth from one another as Foster looks around for a dead body. So far, though, she doesn't see one. Why exactly did Lydia call them if she hasn't found the dead body yet?

        "Lydia?" Stiles questioned, a pained look etched on the girl's face.

        She shakes her head back and forth, revealing, "It's the same thing, same thing as the pool. I got into the car heading somewhere totally different and I ended up here." Lydia then shrugs nervously, breathing out, "And you told me to call you if there's a dead body."

        Immediately, Stiles' eyes widen, the boy exclaiming, "You found a dead body?"

        "Not yet," Lydia corrected, but fully aware that it was bound to happen soon enough. 

        "Not yet?" Stiles reiterated, his forehead creasing and nose scrunching in confusion. "What do you mean 'not yet?' Lydia, you're supposed to call us after you found the dead body."

        Lydia let out a frustrated sigh, countering, "Oh, no, I'm not doing that again. You find the dead body from now on."

        "How are we supposed to find the dead body?" Stiles exclaimed, hands flying everywhere. "You're always the one find the dead body."

        Foster and Allison were far too invested watching Stiles and Lydia's bantering, unaware of the fact that something peculiar had caught Scott's eyes. The teen wolf finds himself creating distance between him and his friends, noticing the crimson colored liquid dripping down the front sign of their high school, inevitably, a body lying atop of it. And one that they were are familiar with, unfortunately.

        "Guys," Scott's voice cut through the air, all four of the teenagers glancing at him, their eyes falling upon the same sight, "I found the dead body."

        And one again, they found themselves unable to save yet another person.

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        Seated in class the next day, Foster was still feeling incredibly drowsy. Whatever happened between her and her mother took a harsh toll are her state of being, and in all honesty, she had no idea what the hell happened either way.

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