Fateful Encounter

Fateful Encounter

Scott McCall sat on his bed, a pair of gym shorts the only thing separating him from the cool evening air. He re-threaded the laces on his lacrosse stick, ensuring the net was secure. With a satisfied nod, he tossed the stick onto the bed, then rose and walked toward the bathroom. He hopped onto a pull-up bar mounted on the door frame, completing a series of chin-ups before stepping into the bathroom to brush his teeth and wash his face.

Suddenly, a noise from outside caught his attention. With his heart racing, Scott slipped on a red hoodie and grabbed a wooden baseball bat, stepping cautiously onto the porch. His gaze darted around, scanning for any signs of danger. Just as he prepared to investigate, a figure appeared, hanging from the roof.

"AHH!" Scott yelped, nearly swinging the bat at the intruder's head before realizing it was Stiles Stilinski, his best friend.

"AHHH!" Stiles echoed, equally startled.

Scott huffed, lowering his bat. "Stiles, what the hell are you doing?!"

"You weren't answering your phone! Why do you have a bat?" Stiles exclaimed, glancing nervously at the weapon in Scott's hands.

"I thought you were a predator!" Scott shot back.

"Predator?" Stiles stared incredulously before shaking his head. "Look, I know it's late, but you gotta hear this. I saw my dad leave twenty minutes ago. Dispatch called—they're bringing in every officer from the Beacon Department and even state police."

"For what?" Scott asked, brow furrowing.

Stiles struggled to contain his excitement. "Two joggers found a body in the woods."

"Wait, what? A dead body?"

Stiles swung himself free from the trellis, landing on his feet. "No, a body of water! Yes, a dead body!"

Scott's expression shifted from confusion to concern. "You mean, like, murdered?"

"Nobody knows yet," Stiles replied, grinning. "Just that it was a girl, probably in her twenties."

"Hold on, if they found the body, then what are they looking for?"

Stiles' eyes gleamed with drama. "That's the best part—they only found half!"

"Stiles, we're seriously doing this?" Scott asked, feeling a knot of dread form in his stomach.

"We're going! You're the one always saying nothing ever happens in this town," Stiles replied, and before Scott could argue, he jumped into his teal blue Jeep, headlights illuminating the warning sign against entering the preserve after dark.

As they parked and grabbed flashlights, Stiles shot Scott a teasing look. "I'm just saying, sitting on the bench is not exactly grueling effort."

"No, because I'm playing this year. I'm making first line," Scott insisted, his confidence rising.

Stiles scoffed. "Hey, that's the spirit! Everyone should have a dream, even a pathetically unrealistic one."

The banter continued as they trekked deeper into the woods, Scott's breathing quickening from the exertion. "Just out of curiosity, which half of the body are we looking for?" he asked sarcastically.

Stiles paused, sheepishly biting his lip. "Huh! I didn't even think about that."

"What if whoever killed her is still out here?" Scott asked, feeling a chill creep up his spine.

"Also something I didn't think about," Stiles admitted, but the thrill of adventure pushed them onward.

Suddenly, they spotted a group of officers waving flashlights as part of the search. Stiles, ever impatient, darted toward the action.

"Wait!" Scott shouted, scrambling to keep up. But as Stiles called out, a nearby K9 officer's dog began barking, startling Stiles. He stumbled, and a deputy's flashlight beamed on him.

"Hold it right there!" the deputy commanded.

Stiles raised his hands, trying to play it cool. "Uh, it's just me… in the woods… alone…"

"Where's your usual partner in crime?" the deputy asked, scanning the area.

Stiles' face paled. "Scott's home. He wanted to get a good night's sleep for school tomorrow."

The deputy wasn't buying it. "Scott, you out there?"

Scott pressed against a nearby tree, eyes closed, willing himself to disappear. When the coast cleared, he breathed a sigh of relief and turned to head back, navigating the dimly lit woods alone.

As he moved cautiously, thunder rumbled overhead, and rain began to fall. Pulling up his hood, Scott felt an unsettling silence envelop the forest. Suddenly, a herd of deer burst forth, stampeding past him and knocking him to the ground, his inhaler flying from his pocket.

When the chaos subsided, Scott stumbled to his feet, frantically searching for his inhaler with his phone's light. As he bent down, he uncovered something horrific— the top half of a body, unmistakably bisected at the waist. Shock coursed through him, and he stumbled backward, losing his balance and tumbling down the hill into a ravine.