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[ hey wonderful readers! ]

[ so this first chapter is a bit like a prologue—by that, i mean it gets a little drawn out at times, but it's still a real chapter so it is necessary for the story line! ]

[ just stick with me here, i promise the story gets better with each chapter :P ]

[ also, disclaimer: this story was written before the show came out! i wrote it after the pilot so it is not entirely canonically accurate ]

Second person POV

You could hear the blood pumping through your ears as you came to a halt at the edge of the forest. The looming wide trunks of the oak trees were intimidating enough to keep you from wanting to enter the mass of darkness, but stopping at the edge of the tree line was just as scary as diving head-first into it, if not scarier.

The man behind you would stop at nothing to kill you, and you knew it, too, but you stopped nonetheless. You would rather face your fate with the bloodthirsty being behind you than overcome your crippling fear of darkness and try to find safety in the murky gloom of the night.

You deserved death anyway.

Your chest was shivering with fear and energy, adrenaline coursing through your veins like a drug.

The night air suddenly stilled around you, not even whispering so much as a breeze. It was almost as if it was anticipating what was about to come next. Maybe it knew that the man was quickly approaching just as well as you did.

"Stop!" the man's voice ripped through the freezing air, forcing your stomach to lurch up to your throat. "Stop right there and put your hands in the air where I can see them!"

You did not put your hands in the air. That would mean surrendering. Instead, you sucked in a sharp breath and turned around to face the dark silhouette of the man.

Despite the fact that your retinas had more than enough time to adjust to the moonlight that revealed the forest's edge, you still couldn't see any of the man's features; you only knew what he looked like from memory.

The entire time, you had been running away from Nate's house—away from this man who had no intentions other than to take your life—and you couldn't even see him.

All you knew is that you did something unforgivable, and this man wanted you dead.

"I said put your hands in the air!" His voice was so rough and forceful that it sounded like it might actually tear his vocal cords. The outline of his shoulders was shifting slightly, seeming to come closer to you. You blinked, and suddenly he was near enough so that you could see the olive tint of his jacket, the ashen color of his cheeks, the edges of his short, ratty hair sticking straight up from the top of his head, the gun that he held straight in front of him with both hands, aimed directly at your chest. "Now!"

You knew that you had no other choice but to surrender.

Taking yet another deep gulp of air, you slowly raised your hands above your head. The air flowed through your lungs like a gust, an in-and-out breath that came out past your lips as a milky fog. Your bottom lip was shaking, and even though you couldn't see the expression on his face as he said his next words—the last words you would ever hear with your feet planted on the soggy ground of the Earth—it was easy to imagine his lips curling up into a sneer with hate, his eyes narrowing with repugnance at the sight of you. He pressed the muzzle of the gun firmly against your chest and said, "I told you I'd make you regret it."

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