If there was one matter, that the entire population of Beacon Hills could unanimously agree upon, it would be the fact that "Eichen house" was one hell of a dreadful place. The last person to ever set foot in it was the sheriff Stilinski, the day he rescued Parrish from the deputies trying to kill him. No one had the courage to approach it, no adventure or thrill seeker, no adept of the horror factor dared to either. In fact, there were no plans of reconstructing, remodeling or repurposing for it whatsoever, it was just abandoned, everyone just accepted it and left it at that.
The first thing Parrish perceived aside from the cursed building itself upon arrival, were the two police vehicles parked ahead. He apprehensively walked towards them flashlight in hand, to check for any sign of his colleagues, after he exited his own car that is. When all the hints led him to the unfortunate and unquestionable conclusion he feared, he drew his weapon and prudently approached Eichen's entrance.
The more he advanced towards that metal door however, the slower and more hesitant he grew, he couldn't help it, the memories of that place were flooding in at a much higher speed than he could handle. Hellhound or not, flying so close to death, on more than one occasion, at the hands of multiple people sure scarred him deeply, he simply mismeasured how deep until then, as he was being confronted with the feelings he had curbed for all those years.
The deputy came to the realization that he was sweating through his uniform, standing there only a few inches away from that damned door. He brought his sight up and glazed over the building's facade, skimming for the courage to at least push through the threshold of that hell.
He instantly froze when he locked eyes with one of his colleagues, staring at him through one of the windows. Although something about him seemed quite wrong, his appearance wasn't outright that of a living human being, his gaze satiated with years worth of hate and grudges, his skin bore the same signs of dryness and cracking as those in Jordan's vision earlier that evening.
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That was enough for Parrish to ignore all the voices screaming warnings in his head and enter the property. He moved forward very carefully, through the doors, through the hallways, a sickening sense of familiarity overcame him as he walked past the cell where he almost took his last breath.
His guard dropped to a rather low level at that moment, the biggest indication of that, was the amount of time he took to notice the figure standing at the other end of the corridor. He quickly pointed his gun in its direction before slowly lowering it, eyes wide with astonishment,"Sanders?" he called out.
Sanders, or what looked like a standing corpse version of him didn't react to his own name whatsoever, he instead turned away at a steady pace and disappeared to his right down the hallway.
Parrish followed suite, but couldn't catch up to him in time, Sanders had vanished behind that corner, "Sanders?" Jordan called out again, this time louder and most importantly in vain, at least it was until a far-sounding voice reached his ears.
"Parrish? Parrish, I am here!" she screamed.
"Fisher? Where are you?" he had a vague idea about where her voice was coming from, the darkened route Sanders took to vanish, he reluctantly accepted that it was the route he needed to take. Wherever she was, she didn't sound like she could wait for much longer, her tone was heavy with urgency, and so, Parrish did his very best to move as fast as he could while remaining vigilant.
"Fisher?" he called for her again, he began to grow more anxious because of the lack of response he was getting, but what he disliked the most in that setting was the unsettling feeling that he was walking in a straight line to no end, he literally couldn't see any end to that hallway, the more he went, the more he felt like the walls were stretching forward, as little as he could view of them through the thick layers of darkness.
His disconcert escalated higher when he picked up on a nauseating metallic scent, faint at first, though becoming more pervasive the further he proceeded down that path. He was nearing something he was sure he could never unsee.
His heart skipped a beat, he immediately regretted wishing for an end to the corridor he was running through. As soon as it was granted, he was assaulted with the mortifying reality, the disturbing fate of his colleagues.
Bince, Sanders, Wilson, Gibbs and... Their youngest recruit, Reyes, were aligned horizontally, all hanged by their necks with fishing lines, so thin that Parrish thought they were only floating before the realization sunk in.