"Jace, I told you for the thousandth time, it was one rat." Sam grumbled, scraping at her empty dinner plate with her fork.

"That's not what everyone else was saying." Jace countered, side eyeing her as he took a sip of water. "Nolan said he heard there was like, a hundred."

"I have no idea who Nolan is, but he's a dirty rotten liar because I saw it with my own eyes." Sam lied through her mocking smile. "One rat."

Why was Sam lying to her brothers about the rat incident at school, one may wonder? Because if she didn't, they'd never shut up about it. Jace would be dubbed the weird kid obsessed with rats, Nathan would be even more sad about still being in middle school whilst his brother was officially a freshman, and Kade would be scared shitless about a rat invasion. Not to mention what their dad would think if he found out their new school had a rat infestation.. thankfully, David Harlow was working the late shift at the police department.

Dinner tonight had been cooked by chef Samara Harlow, with help from her sous chef Jace. The main dish consisted of the finest noodles sold at the grocery store, coated in a cheesy sauce. The side dish was fresh baguette with garlic butter and cheese, and dessert was the utmost luxury; finely aged biscuits with a drizzle of chocolate. In other words, kraft dinner with garlic bread, followed by stale cookies covered in chocolate syrup to mask the staleness.

The only thing Sam actually knew how to make was garlic bread, but apparently that wasn't a suitable main course. Kade was appalled by the lack of dessert, so Sam had improvised and drenched some old cookies in chocolate syrup. Her dad was going to kill her later when he was wide awake on a sugar high, but that wasn't her problem. Her problem was more along the lines of forgetting to put her textbooks in her newly assigned locker.

The sight of a classroom full of rats replaying in her mind was oddly distracting, so being a little unfocused was understandable, but not enough that Sam didn't notice the extra five pounds of weight in her backpack (or the lack of room for any of the necessary supplies she'd need when her classes began the next day) once she arrived home. 

It was only 7 o'clock on a school night, surely there'd still be a teacher or two at the school willing to let her in just long enough to drop her books off. She'd gone to her old school a couple times after hours to retrieve items she'd forgotten in her locker (though it had been far closer to 4:30pm than 7).

The worst that would happen is the doors would be locked, and she'd just have to leave her textbooks in her truck, but she had overheard that the library was open for late night studying. Surely the door connecting the library and school would also be open, in case a studying student needed to retrieve their textbooks for consultation. Maybe while she was there she could finally check out some books on weird dreams.

"Can I have another cookie?" Kade questioned, interrupting her thoughts.

He reached for the box of stale cookies and Sam was quick to move it away from him. "Hell no, you've had 3."

"Jace had 4." Kade huffed, crossing his arms over his chest and pouting.

"Yeah, and Jace is gonna help Nate with the dishes." Sam smiled and turned to the aforementioned boy. "Aren't you, Jacey?"

"Isn't it your night to do the dishes?" Nate questioned, furrowing his brows. It was Sam's night, but now that she remembered the library was open, she was booking it to the school (pun intended) before closing because she really did not want to have to drag a bag full of books and arms full of supplies to school in the morning. She could barely drag herself there.

"I have to run back to school, I forgot to drop my books off in my locker." Sam shrugged, taking her plate over to the kitchen counter. She placed it in the sink along with her empty glass, before turning back to her brothers. "I'll be back by 8."

She could already see Jace and Nathan side eyeing each other and gesturing to the cabinet that blocked the secret room. If it weren't for that, they undoubtedly would've been protesting the dish washing situation (which wasn't even a situation at all; all they had to do was load the dishwasher, and then unload it when it was finished without breaking anything).

"Clean up before you go exploring." Sam spoke firmly, in the same way Austin used to years prior when he was her age. All those years he'd complained about being the oldest, always tasked with babysitting his four younger siblings.. Sam finally understood it all when he went off to college and she inherited the responsibility. She got the blame if her younger brothers colossally screwed up the house when she was supposed to be present. "And you better be on the couch watching television or something by the time I'm back, because I'm not lying to Dad. If I catch you in there, I'm telling."

"Nobody likes a rat." Nathan grumbled.

"Nobody likes people who open haunted freezers, either." Kade chimed in, pouting. It was safe to say he was very much against anyone going into the hidden room, especially when he was around. "Sammy can I go to school with you? I don't wanna be here if they're gonna let the ghosts out."

"There's no ghosts." Sam assured her brother. The police had already been in there, and the entire room had been thoroughly cleansed of any carnage before they even viewed the house. Technically it was their aunt who viewed the house and FaceTimed them (she lived just outside of California and thought her brother was absolutely insane for so much as thinking about blowing thousands of dollars on plane tickets just to view a house), but that was beside the point. "You can come with me as long as you don't run off like Jace did earlier. We're just going to the library and my locker. No exploring."

Kade nodded, jumping up from his seat at the table and running off to find his jacket and shoes. Sam rolled her eyes and took his plate and glass to the sink, before following after him. It had gotten a bit cooler as the sun set, but Sam didn't bother with a jacket. By the time she had her shoes on, Kade was already waiting out by the passenger side door of her truck.

"It's locked."

Sam pressed the button on her key. "Not anymore."

The drive to the school was short, and consisted of little to no conversation after Kade asked to turn on the radio. He liked listening to music as they drove, as did Sam, although they didn't get to listen to a full song before arriving, by the time Kade had found a station he liked. Sam had only been listening to her CDs since arriving in Beacon Hills, so her radio was still set to Saint John's K100.5. She liked that station, and losing it was a bit of a bummer, but Kade found the station of a neighbouring town with decent songs to make up for it.

"Remember, you're we're going straight to be library. No exploring." Sam reminded her brother as she exited her truck. "By the looks of the cars there's a few other people here, so don't be loud."

"I'm not loud." Kade responded, walking off towards the school. He wasn't lying, as Jace and Nathan often did; Kade was surprisingly well behaved. He was quite the opposite of his two older brothers, and had a tendency to be more quiet and observing (albeit easily frightened). It was why he and Sam got along so well, despite the large age gap between them.

Kade was only 9, but he didn't have a lot of friends his age. Jace and Nathan were only a year apart, and had a habit of excluding him. He'd often spend time with Austin when he wasn't with friends, but now that the eldest Harlow had gone off to college, Sam was the only one left. She had her friends, but she didn't mind taking her little brother to the park every once in awhile. It gave her an excuse to climb on the monkey bars and do flips like she used to when she was younger.

"Slow down, you don't even know where you're going!" Sam spoke loudly as she noticed Kade was gaining some distance. She could see the light shining out of the open library doors, and Kade was going in the opposite direction. Sam jogged to catch up to him, the textbooks in her bag weighing her down with every step. "See the light? That way."

"It looks like the gym entrance at my school." Kade commented as they walked up the path to the library.

"It's probably bigger than the gym at your school." The elder Harlow replied, chuckling. "I've never seen a library so big, it's insane. Look."

Sam stopped in front of the open doorway. The library appeared empty at first glance, and she let out a silent sigh of relief— there was no way in hell Kade wasn't gonna want to explore, and Sam really didn't want to look like some random weirdo. She was still the new girl, after all, and she still had to avoid obtaining the reputation of Beacon Hills high school's resident weirdo.

"Holy shit." Kade muttered as he caught sight of inside the library, his mouth agape at the sight.

"Language." Sam scolded, even though shit was one of the more mundane words Kade had acquired from his older brothers over the past few years. He very seldom swore, and was usually the one scolding all the other Harlow children for swearing, which is why Sam took the opportunity.

She didn't blame him, though, holy shit had been her reaction to the gymnasium sized library as well. She couldn't believe the fact that this was a school library, and not a public one in a major city. Hell, Sam still couldn't believe Americans had dollar bills instead of coins— and their bills.. God. From the bland colours, to the flimsy paper, Sam had a lot of opinions on American currency, and none of them were nice. She missed her colourful, waterproof bills.

"This is where you're gonna go to school someday." Sam told her brother as they sat down at a table. She slung her heavy backpack onto the chair beside her with a loud thud and unzipped it, pulling out her array of textbooks. "I'm gonna run these to my locker, are you okay staying here by yourself for a few minutes?"

"Yeah, can I look at some books?"

"As long as you put things back where you got them from, yeah." Sam nodded, tucking her cellphone into the back pocket of her jeans before picking up the stack of four textbooks. Biology, mathematics, geography and another science book; Sam didn't know why she needed the additional science book when she was only taking biology. "If anyone asks you what you're doing, just tell them you're with me, okay? I'm gonna leave my bag here."

"Okie dokie." Kade agreed, running off to one of the many bookshelves lining the library.

Sam rolled her eyes at his excitement, jogging up the small set of stairs. She turned towards the door that led into the hallway, finding it already open. The discovery didn't cause hesitation, but it did prompt Sam to wonder; had someone else made the same mistake as her? She wandered down the hall towards where her locker was located, hoping her assumptions were right.

Having someone else to talk to while her brother looked at books would be a godsend, because there was no way she'd be getting Kade out until closing. Plus, the halls of Beacon Hills high school were oddly.. unsettling? Sam wasn't sure what word accurately conveyed the uneasy feeling it gave her to wander down the hallway lit solely by moonlight.

She quickened her pace as she made a right turn, only to stop dead in her tracks at the sight ahead. There were no people in sight, though she wasn't sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing. The doors at the end of the hallway were wide open, and Sam's phone was in her hand, ready to dial 9-1-1 at the first sign of movement.

The lockers on either side of the hallway were dented, as though something large had been slammed against them repeatedly. The indents had splotches of crimson on the sharper parts of metal, and Sam's heart dropped as she grew closer. She'd innocently believed it to be red paint contrasting against the blue at first glance, but as she stood directly in front of it she found the dark red to be a liquid, eerily similar to blood.

Sam cringed as she noticed there were also droplets of crimson on the floor, leading towards the open door. Immediately she turned back in the direction she'd originated from, about to break out into a sprint, but halted as she noticed more blood. It led back around the corner she rounded minutes ago, and terrified her more than the dented lockers— Kade was alone.

The Harlow girl didn't hesitate to start moving as fast as she could while still following the blood trail. It was subtle enough that she couldn't sprint, but she was able to jog. Sam was absolutely baffled at how ignorant she'd been when originally walking down the hall— what kind of complete and utter idiot missed a trail of blood? Then again.. what kind of person was looking for a trail of blood in a high school hallway?

What kind of person was leaving one?

Sam found herself slowing to a walk as the blood trail curved and stopping entirely as it abruptly ended in front of the boys' locker room. Was it naive to hope that weird Nicholas Cage movie about people vanishing into thin air had foretold the future and whoever left the blood trail had simply disappeared into thin air? Yes, very much so, but that didn't stop Sam.

Please be the rapture, please be the rapture.. Sam breathed, swallowing hard as she slowly pushed the door open; as if doing it slowly would somehow lessen the horror she'd feel upon discovering that the blood trail continued. It didn't.

Why did Sam even open the door, you may be wondering? Because no seventeen year old girl would dare to walk away from a door with a trail of blood leading to it, of course. What if Ryan Reynolds is behind the door? What if Ashton Kutcher jumps out & says "you've been Punk'd!" Sam couldn't possibly pass on those two nonexistent possibilities, even though it was probably a serial killer planning on making a soup bowl out of her skull.

Curiosity killed the cat, but satisfaction brought it back. As a vengeful spirit, hellbent on— whoops, wrong show.

Sam bit her lip as she stepped into the locker room, her eyes following the trail of blood towards a row of lockers. It disappeared behind them. If she wasn't already on the verge of cardiac arrest, she sure as hell was now. Mistakes had been made. So many mistakes. So, so many. She should've just left the stupid textbooks in her truck. Too bad she was lazy, and made bad life choice number 701.

Time for bad life choice number 702.

"Hello?" Sam called out. As she moved closer she could hear breathing; it was laboured, as if whoever was doing it was in a great amount of pain. Was this the part where she was supposed to call the cops? If so, Sam didn't get the memo. "I know you're there."

Sam nearly had a heart attack when a familiar face stepped out from behind the row of lockers. She recognized him instantly; it was Mason, one of the two boys she'd met earlier in the day. He didn't look injured, nor was he breathing heavily, although she could still hear someone doing so.

"Sam." Mason forced a very obviously fake smile. It didn't come off as rude, as fake smiles normally did. It was the kind of fake smile you'd make when you're trying to be distracting, and prevent someone from seeing something they'd regret. "You here for a late night study session, too?"

"I was just here to drop off my textbooks in my locker.." Sam furrowed her brows, taking a step forward in hopes Mason would move back so she could see further beyond the lockers. He didn't. "What happened?"

"What do you mean?" Mason shrugged nonchalantly. "I was just.. grabbing some lacrosse gear from my locker." He reached for a damaged looking lacrosse stick lying on a nearby bench.

"The lockers out in the hall are all bent, and there's blood everywhere." Sam gaped. "Did you not notice it when you came in here?"

"No?" The teen responded, but it came out sounding far more like a question than an answer. He was really bad at this. "Uh, yeah, actually— it was just.. uh, a fight. Two rival lacrosse players. Super intense. They're fine now, though."

"Are you sure?" The Harlow girl asked suspiciously, unbelieving of his cover up. "Whoever's hiding behind the lockers doesn't sound very fine. My stepmom was a paramedic, I can try to help, if you want."

"Oh, no, it's fine. He's okay."

"People that are okay don't usually leave trails of blood." Sam countered, raising a brow. "If you're bleeding that much you're gonna need stitches, and you won't get them from a hospital without questions. But me? All you gotta do is get me a lighter and a travel sewing kit. Or a stapler. Or some safety pins. Or wire. I'm pretty crafty. I could probably use a paper clip, too. I also don't get grossed out by gore and I don't ask questions.. that's a lie, I ask a lot of questions, and I talk a lot, but on the plus side, listening to me ramble is probably going to be more painful than whatever wounds your friend has."

Mason looked back over his shoulder, as if questioning whether or not allowing Sam to evaluate the injuries was a good idea— she seemed pretty cool, and open to the idea of supernatural things, but ideas and reality were two very different things. The final verdict reached was a very clear no, seeing as how the wounds were scarily large gashes.. made by the claws of a hellhound. "Don't worry, he's okay. He's actually putting on some bandages right now, it's barely even bleeding anymore."

Sam hesitated. She knew Mason was lying, that was clearer than the clearest thing in existence. Sam didn't know what the clearest thing in existence was prior to this moment, but it was now officially the fact that Mason was lying. The question was, did Sam really want to push it? She'd feel like shit if he was actually hiding a dead body back there. He seemed nice, but so did everyone— including serial killers.

The Harlow in her said to call her dad, but Sam wasn't a snitch. Unless of course Mason was actually hiding a dead body (or an about to be dead body), then she was gonna sing like a goddamn canary because she was not an accessory. But had to know for sure..

Sam didn't regret her choice to quickly move by him, but she did feel a little stupid at first when she realized it was no other than Liam, the other boy she'd met earlier. Of course Mason was covering for his friend— who else would it be? Not a dead body. Sam really needed to stop watching true crime documentaries.

"I- um, sorry, I didn't— wait," Sam paused, noticing the rips in Liam's shirt alongside the blood. He didn't have any cuts on his face that she could see, which led Sam to initially just brush it off as a nosebleed, but the large tears indicated otherwise. Sam looked back at Mason, "that's your definition of fine?"

The teen shrugged, unsure of how to reply. Liam didn't know what to say either— he couldn't exactly tell her he'd just fought a hellhound and won. Technically. He didn't die, so he considered that a win even though he didn't look like much of a winner. He didn't feel like one either. He felt like shit. His girlfriend broke up with him, his friends were leaving him, and he got his ass kicked.

"It looks like a mugging turned attempted murder." Sam commented, taking a few steps closer. She couldn't see many details from a distance in the dim lighting, but as she moved over by the bench Liam was half sitting half laying on, she took notice of something even more disturbing than the actual slash marks in his shirt— it almost appeared to be burned. "Look, you don't have to tell me what happened, but my dad's a cop.. if someone came at you with a knife or something, you should report it."

"One of the deputies was here when it happened, he took the guy." Liam blurted out, only somewhat regretting it. Sam asking her dad would lead to confusion, but it was nothing that couldn't be brushed off by Sheriff Stilinski. The main problem was getting her to leave before he started healing.

"And he didn't call for backup? Or an ambulance?" What kind of deputy left someone severely injured alone at the scene where they were nearly killed? Not a good one, that's for sure. Protocol was to call for an ambulance if anyone was injured. Liam was very injured, and yet no ambulance was anywhere in sight. Amateurs.

"It was just one guy." Liam shrugged, but winced at the pain from his sudden movement.

"Did he also have a blowtorch?" Sam was practically interrogating him, but with good reason. His story didn't add up, and she wasn't leaving until it did. The only thing Mason had been telling the truth about was the fact that Liam was barely even bleeding anymore. Forget serial killer, serial liar was a far more suitable title. Some of the wounds hadn't even been bleeding to begin with, and it only confused Sam more. "Some of your wounds are cauterized."

"The knife was really hot." Mason chimed in from behind her.

"Do either of you want to tell me what really happened?" Sam raised a brow, looking between the two. "I get it, you don't want anyone to know, and I won't tell. I'm extremely disturbed, but I'm also extremely intrigued because you really shouldn't be conscious right now with wounds that deep. Are you on painkillers? Illegal or not, you should always inform your doctor about any medications you're on before—"

"I'm not on painkillers." Liam cut her off. This really wasn't going to end well for him. "I'm not on any drugs." He still had a prescription for antipsychotics, but they were rather pointless at this point.

"Did someone come at you with a knife blowtorch Doofenschmirtz Inator thingamajig?" The Harlow girl wondered aloud, mildly curious of whether or not anyone had ever actually tried to create an Inator.. Not now. "Sorry, uh, can you please just tell me? I promise I won't tell anyone. Or question your sanity if it's one of those wildly unbelievably stories. Trust me when I say I've heard and seen some really weird shit."

Did she mean it? Hayden had heard and seen some weird shit too, but she still punched him in the face when she found out the truth. In her defence, he did growl in her face.. he wasn't going to do that again. He'd start with healing. "This definitely classifies as.. really weird shit."

"I've dreamt of the same cobweb filled museum for the past five nights." Sam deadpanned, crossing her arms over her chest. "I live in a house previously owned by freaking cannibals. You can't out-weird me." Adding the part about her cannibal house was probably oversharing, but hey, if Sam was good at anything, it was oversharing. She really didn't know when to shut up.

Liam sighed, taking a moment to push himself up into a sitting position. He turned towards her, his eyes falling shut. Sam's brows furrowed, and she looked back at Mason for clarification, but he offered none.

Well, she asked for weird. Sam turned back to Liam, watching him curiously. She noticed the wounds on his chest almost seemed to smoke a little bit, as if they were still on fire deep inside, but it dissipated so quickly Sam brushed it off as a pigment of her imagination. But she couldn't brush off what happened next.

Slowly, his wounds began to close— they were healing, right before her eyes. The larger gashes on his torso had become noticeably less deep in a matter of seconds, and the smaller scrapes had disappeared entirely, as though they'd never even been there. Sam was absolutely astounded, and a small part of her worried this was just yet another of her scarily vivid dreams.

But then, Liam opened his eyes. Only, they weren't the piercing blue she knew; they were glowing bright gold. There was absolutely no way to deny it, nor was there a possible way to debunk it as a reflection of light; his eyes were glowing.

Perhaps the scariest part of the whole ordeal was that the thing that disturbed Sam the most wasn't his inhuman ability to heal, or his glowing eyes. It was the three words they both mumbled in unison, sounding equally shocked.

"What the hell?"

—

UNEDITED.

time to play "is he surprised she didn't scream & punch him or does he see something"

ps. no sam didn't forget about kade, she isn't worried about him because she doesn't know there's a wild hellhound on the loose— or that her guidance counsellor is a psychopath.