Full Summary: A young woman seeks out Edgar frog in an attempt to join him in the fight against Santa Carla's undead, but when she is stalked by the leader of a new coven, Edgar and Sam find out who she really is, and why she is so equipped to aid their cause. However, when a vampire has chosen his mate, he will do anything to obtain her, including launching a full-scale human vs. vampire war. Santa Carla will be shaken to the core… will Edgar, Sam, and a strange girl from Texas with extraordinary powers be able to keep it standing? Rated for language, gratuitous violence, and some sensuality. NO SLASH.

A/N: This story takes place directly after the horrible events of TLB2: The Tribe, but blatantly ignores both alternate endings of the movie, as well as the hidden scene in the credits. It also takes into account the events of the Reign of Frogs comics, except for the little boy that Edgar told the story to, who seems to have been forgotten by the movie as well.

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The road to Santa Carla, CA was long, hot, and testing. The gusts that blew off the sea from the breakers kicked up dust and provided no relief from the blistering summer heat. She had been walking down this road for six hours now, since nobody had been generous enough to offer her a ride. The peeling soles of her soiled black Converse All-stars absorbed the heat from the road and added to her discomfort. The road dust seeped into the vents on the sides of her shoes and mixed with the sweat, creating mud. Her long trench coat flapped around her calves in the wind. She looked down at the ground as she walked, seemingly tuned out to any part of the world but the earth her feet stomped upon. Her black RayBan Wayfarers gleamed in the unforgiving sun.

She slowed her steps as she heard the squeal of brakes behind her and surveyed a rusty shitbox pickup truck that pulled up beside her. A grimy man reminiscent of the dirt underneath a trucker's fingernails shot a slimy grin in her direction.

"Need a ride, sweety?" His flat, hungry eyes traced the shape of her body.

She replied with her slender middle finger and a toneless "Fuck you."

His face crumpled into rage as he slammed the gas and drove away. She held the back of her hand to her mouth and coughed at the dust the truck tires sent dust flying into the air.

Looking up to follow the truck with her eyes, she saw something in the distance that looked like a giant billboard. Squinting, she made out some larger words on it. They read "Santa Carla."

The town spread out in front of her like a tin toy, aged, and rusted by the sea air. She could see the boardwalk and the midway by the coast, and the smell of the various taco stands, burger hutches, and sandwich shops floated up to her along with the scent of the sea, causing her stomach to spasm and groan violently. Who would have thought two days with no food would be so hard? However, now was not the time to start thinking about her next long awaited meal. Her pockets were empty, except for a creased, crumpled business card with the name of a surfboard shaping business on it. She examined this card now for the umpteenth time, willing herself to keep going, knowing her destination was no longer dauntingly out of reach. Letting down the bulky duffel on her shoulder, she detached the longboard that was strapped to it, slapped it down onto the rough, distraught pavement, and took off like a bat out of hell.

She weaved her way in between careless people on the crowded boardwalk, gazing dreamily past the pier. The water was good today. She inwardly moaned as she watched a tight, blue, glassy curl defeat an inexperienced surfer. She would definitely have to find a way to scam herself a surfboard while she was here.

She continued past the boardwalk, down a rough road, and hopped off her board when the pavement ended. She traveled on foot until she reached an area with an intimidating vibe—a place that was not for tourists. The scrub was thicker and taller, and any color which had once belonged to the place was long since lost to the harsh sun and corroding salt. Farther down the road, a series of signs began to appear, growing more numerous as she went.

No trespassing. Positively no visitors. Stay away. No entry. No one allowed. Leave now. Dead end.

She ignored them all, knowing her destination. Finally she happened upon a small, atrophied trailer, with a garden shed and an old Ford truck beside it. There were wooden crucifixes of every shape and size nailed to and leaning against everything in sight. She stopped as her feet reached the edge of a white circle that completely surrounded the ground around the trailer.

"...A circle of salt? Heh, this guy's a nut..." She stepped over the line, not putting one grain out of place. Pausing momentarily before the door, she summoned her resolve once again before knocking three times, slowly. There was no answer. She knocked again, harder, and heard shuffling inside. She was about to repeat her actions when she saw the blinds covering the window next to the door open a crack. Two gleaming eyes glared out at her. She took off her sunglasses, slipped them into her pocket, and backed out of the shadow of the trailer, into the sun. Shrugging off her coat, she threw it over her shoulder, and spreading her arms, stared directly at the sun for a number of seconds without squinting.

"Proof enough for ya?" She called. The blinds flicked shut, and the door opened. Inside stood a young man, 35 or so, wearing a black tee shirt and camo pants. His sandy blond hair was accented by a bright red headband tied off to the side, the tails hanging down to his shoulders. His brow was knotted in a distasteful expression.

"Mister…Frog?" She asked politely, tucking her chin-length brown hair behind her ear.

"Yeah. Edgar. What do you want?" He replied gruffly.

"I…seek employment, if that is not too much to ask," She walked closer to him, her piercing blue eyes meeting his brooding brown ones.

"I don't need another shaper. Frog Surf Company is a solo operation." He answered curtly.

She was undeterred.
"I'm not interested in helping you make boards, actually. I was hoping to utilize my…other talents."

"I'm not into that shit," He replied. "I run this place clean. No hookers."

"I'm afraid you are very mistaken as to what my talents are," He shrunk back slightly under her intense stare.
"I'm not a whore. I'm a modern Van Helsing. And I'm serious about the job I do. When I heard that there were clans of unwieldy vampires running about in this quaint town, and that there was even a small militia fighting against them, I decided to come down here and offer you my expertise. We fight the same fight, sir. I wish to be on your side."

"Let me get this straight," The man crossed his arms. "You came here from...wherever..."
"Texas," She indicated.

"Right, Texas. All the way from Texas...to fight vampires that don't even exist?"

"I mean this in the most respectful way, sir, and I don't mean any offense, but don't bullshit me. I know the creeps are ligit." She crossed her arms back at him.

"Yeeaahh, no." He uncrossed his arms and put his hand on the door, ready to close it.

"You see," Edgar continued. "Every once in a while, I get a kid like you come down here thinking they know everything there is about fighting the unruly undead, but you know what? They never know shit. And I don't do training."

"I'm not a kid, I'm eighteen, I'll have you know. And I don't need training. I know my shit pretty damn well."

"Have you ever even seen a vampire?" He asked skeptically.

"Have you ever seen a million dollars?" A smirk played at her lips.

Edgar snorted. "No."

"But you'd pretty much know what to do with it, right? And I would know what to do in the instance of a vampire encounter."

Edgar shook his head. "A vampire is nothing like a million dollars."

"Oh yeah? Well, it's just about as hard to handle. And as dangerous," She added.

"You come back when you can back that statement up, right girly? Then I'll see what I can do."

"I can back it up now, son." A tense moment of silence passed between the two as Edgar began to feel challenged.

"Bring it on," He said.

She thumped her duffel onto the ground and crouched to dig through it. She brought up two wooden throwing knives with looped handles. Holding one knife in each hand by the loops with her little fingers, she swung them two or three times around before grasping them firmly in an attack position.

"Pure oak kunai. Sharp as metal, if not more so, and excellent for the vampires. Check em out," she held out a knife for Edgar to examine. He took it gently and looked down the blade, then weighed it in his palm.

"Hmm…where did you procure these?" He inquired, trying to hide his interest.

"I made them," She answered. "I make all of my own weapons. It's not like I can hop down to the 'Monster Hunter Supply Superstore' and get exactly what I want. Custom is the only way."
Nodding slowly, he handed the knife back.
"What else you got in the steak department? How about holy water? Crosses? Garlic? How can you be sure you're prepared?"

She laughed lightly. "Everyone knows crosses and garlic don't actually do anything but make teen vampire slayer tv shows funny. As for steaks..." She stowed the knives and produced a slender, white, eighteen inch, tapered wood steak. It was smooth and sleek, and as Edgar took it, he found it fit comfortably into his hand without slipping.

"First I pick the oak tree," She began her explanation. "Then I cut it down, into smaller logs. I split the logs to the preferable size, and then I burn them down. Scrape off the burn, sharpen it up, and shape it, and you've got some of the slickest, fastest weapons there are. How's that compare to lawn stakes from Lowe's?"

Edgar took a few test stabs to the air to feel out the stake. "These are so slender, you don't need a mallet to drive 'em home. Nice."

He began to hand it back, but she shook her head. "Keep it. Production sample. You can't buy them like that anywhere."

"Hmm…You seem promising," He stated, smiling ever so slightly.
"Promising, at the very least. Tell you what," He continued. "You leave me your phone number, and if I ever need some extra help, I'll give you a buzz. I'm not guaranteeing anything, but there is always the small chance of you maybe getting to accompany me on one of my missions."

She shook her head firmly.
"No, you don't get it. It's either yes or no. I can't hang around waiting for a call that won't come."

"Well then, no." He retorted coldly.

Her shoulders drooped as the smile died on her lips.
"Wow…that's really…sad." She sighed. Bending down for her duffel, she stuffed her trinkets back into it and zipped it up.

"Well, that's the way I work, hon. I'm a picky guy," He explained arrogantly.
She shook her head forlornly as she walked away from him towards the salt circle. Pausing at the edge, she laughed at herself pathetically.
"And to think I was actually counting on you. Heh." She stepped over the salt line and began to walk away.

"Uhh, hey…" He called after her.
She took her sunglasses out of her pocket, shook the legs straight and put them on before she looked back at Edgar.

"What's your name? If you ever want to come back around, I'll know you."
She chuckled.
"My name is Kat Helleck, but I doubt I will have the time for this again. Goodbye…" She turned away and looked at the ground as she walked away.
"Have a nice life," Edgar called after her. He slammed the door of the trailer.
"Death, actually," She mumbled to herself. She didn't think he could have heard her…but he did.

Edgar silently watched her through the blinds as she made her way back down the road until she was out of sight. He remained quiet for several more moments, his mind ticking away, and an odd feeling in his stomach.

"Oh, she'll be back," Edgar said to himself, not sounding as confident as he had hoped.

...Right? He thought

He did not answer himself, still seeing the haunting image of the girl walking away from the door. He licked his suddenly dry lips.

She didn't feel the heat anymore, neither did she feel pressed in upon by the people around her on the boardwalk. She was numb, with an odd thrumming sort of realization reverberating through her chest. She was alone, with no place to go, no money, and she hadn't eaten in two days. She faced the possibility of death with the oblivious realization of an untimely end, although she had pretty much supposed she was going to waste away like this somewhere eventually. Her life had never carried the tag of 'simple'. As far back as she could remember, her mother had drank. It got progressively worse over the years, so she had pretty much taken care of herself, as well as her booze-soaked, unsound mother, while simultaneously enduring the physical and mental abuse that came along with living with a drunk. Her father had never really existed, and her mother never talked about him. Whenever Kat attempted to coax even a minute factoid from her mom about her father to hold onto, and to somehow prove to herself that he had actually existed, her mother would dissolve into a fit of rage, sobbing, screaming, and striking out at anything in reach. Kat had long since stopped trying to care about knowing her father, but it didn't stop her from wondering.

She had recently decided to escape her doomed life by seeking out a career on the other side of the country in a field which she had always specialized in. From a young age, Kat took great interest in the occult, and found that whenever she came into contact with such, she could manipulate it with ease. At nighttime, she could hears screams and wails issuing from the cemetery behind the slum she was forced to inhabit with her mom. She began to sneak out at night and jump the fence to find out who was making the awful, haunting noises keeping only her from the solitary peace of sleep. As soon as she entered the grounds, she could hear the voices of a hundred distressed souls calling out to her, and in turn, she answered each one. Slowly, one by one, the whispers stopped, and their screams died away with them. Every night for weeks she did this, until there was no more wailing of pain, only slight, soft murmuring.

She once encountered a neighbor girl who was about three or four, and was having terrible fits. The child would hiss and snarl, lashing her little arms and legs out at anyone who tried to dissuade her from her tantrums. She would spasm and seize, while all manner of unholy sounds issued from her mouth. While minding her own business, Kat was attacked by the child, and had to do nothing more than touch the girl on the forehead to cause her to collapse. When Kat brought the girl home, the child's terrified mother was astounded to find her little girl asleep, and confided to Kat that the girl had not rested in weeks. When the little girl awoke after several hours, she was perfectly normal in behavior again, and when left alone with Kat, thanked her for "taking the monster out."

Lost souls, poltergeists, demons; they came to her with all their problems, and she vanquished them. Kat considered now that she probably should have regaled Edgar with these tales of her feats, but by his attitude, she was not confident that he would have believed her to be anything more than an arrogant kid who had watched too many monster movies. She was never one to beg, anyway. Although she may be desperate, she did not want him to think of her as an over-excited amateur with more enthusiasm than sense and skills.

So to now escape the reality of her harsh fate, she started walking, with no thought as to when or where she would ever stop. Perhaps she thought that if she could just keep moving, she would eventually outrun her troubles. She walked uphill with no concept of time until the sun had disappeared beyond the ocean, and her eyes met a pleasing sight.

A steep, ferocious slope of asphalt spread out in front of her and dropped, shooting up the other side and peaking far above. On her board, she could probably hit 40mph+ before she could think about slowing down. The road was shaped like a V and the terrain was smoother than most of the rest of the pavement she had seen in Santa Carla. A smile returned to her rosy lips as she set her duffel down and once again detached her longboard. From a side pocket she pulled a pair of cheap leather garden gloves with shaped pieces of plastic cutting board epoxied to them. Strapping the duffel firmly across her shoulders, she jumped onto the board and took off.

Crouching down to the board, dropknee, and grabbing the board between her legs, she leaned back hard and dragged her left hand on the ground behind her, letting the gloves do their work to pull her through a hard left slide. As she picked up speed, she leaned forward and swapped hands holding the board, laying down her right hand to power through a front slide. She alternated like this until she was halfway down the hill, where she wrapped both hands around her back, pulled her head down and pointed her left shoulder ahead to streamline her body. Her trench coat flapped behind her like the wings of a giant bat, and she looked like hell on wheels as the white lines in the middle of the road turned into a solid streak. The yellow splotches of light put out by the streetlamps added an underwater feel to the scene.

There is a place for everyone where they feel like they have reached the limit of the universe and nothing in the world can bring them back down. This was where Kat was. The run was perfect, seamless, and faster than she had ever gone in her entire life. The speed made her eyes tear up and she blinked quickly as the wind whipped away the moisture. Her teeth were exposed in a snarling grin as the adrenaline pumped through her system like steroids through a major league baseball player, opening her every sense and running tingles through her every extremity.

Suddenly something was wrong. She felt cold wash through her body as intense fear prickled through her chest. She fought the nearly overwhelming urge to panic long enough to realize that the feeling was not caused by the run. Something was hunting her.

A group of teenage boys going just as fast as she was pulled up parallel to her, each giving the other space enough for comfort. She had the room to easily slide out the run to a halt without hitting them, but she stopped herself from performing the instinctive action. Looking up, she met the eyes of the boy who was clearly the head of their group. He was grinning back at her, his bright white teeth flashing. He wore a coat similar to hers, except black. His eyes were dark onyx, and his skin was much paler than a normal California native. His hair was black with grassy blonde highlights and was to the top of his neck. He had bangs that ended right above his ominous dark eyes. They seemed to speak to her, saying, "Come on. Let's go faster."

All traces of fear left her body and were replaced by a brazen hype that those eyes seemed to fill her with. He continued to grin back at her, and she nodded at him, putting her head forward again and pulling it down along with her shoulders. Her chin was only seven inches away from the nose of her board. When she peered over at the boy again, he was in the exact same position. She concentrated on the hill again; the dip was fast approaching, and the road that turned up would slow them down from the bomb run.

They reached the dip and started up the other side of the hill, but the speed hardly decreased at all. They shot up it like cannon fire, tucked in, bearing down. Kat's knees and ankles started to burn from being folded up for so long, and her face was numb from the air whooshing past it, but she felt fantastic. She was absorbing the aura of adrenaline from the skaters around her, and all she wanted to do was go faster. She almost felt drugged, and it was hard to concentrate on anything but the road dead in front of her.

They reached the peak of the incline, still blazing, and started down the next hill. Kat strained to see where it went, trying to discern what the fast approaching red and orange blur was. She snapped out of it in time to realize where she was.

They were in a cul-de-sac, and the road simply stopped several hundred feet away, a red and orange rail with reflectors marking the hill's end. She looked up at the boy again, who was laughing manically, and she could hear it's sharp, harsh sound even over the wind. All of the boys were laughing and whooping now as the group approached the end of the thoroughfare, the rail growing ever closer. She kept glancing back up at him, looking for any sign of him breaking into a slide, until she realized what was going on.

He's playing chicken with me!

She salivated. This was going to go out good, or she was going to die.

The rail was a hundred feet away. She glanced up at the boy again. He wasn't slowing.

70 feet. Still nothing.

50 feet. It was getting too close.

40 feet. She broke out in a sweat.

She gave at 30 feet, letting out a howl and breaking into the hardest slide she ever pulled off in her life, grinding her wheels against the ground, grabbing her board with her right hand and smashing her left against the ground behind her. The glove got so hot that her hand sweated profusely. She saw the wheels spit out smoke as they burned from the friction and several little chunks flew off. The same thing was happening to the group around her, and she realized that they had all started their slides at the exact same time as her. She slowed drastically to a halt, her board stopping as it bumped against the curb. Her vision was slightly fuzzy as she gazed up at the rail above her, the orange reflectors gleaming in the lamplight. She panted uncontrollably as she lay suspended in a state of total ecstasy. The ground throbbed and pulsed around her as she started to laugh hysterically, and she heard the boys around her laughing along with her. She rolled over and sat up, looking at them all. There were six total, and everyone but the boy with the blonde-streaked black hair wore a black, leather half-trench coat. One boy had long blonde hair that looked bleached as if by the ocean. He was skinnier than the rest. Another had short, dark brown hair slicked straight back in a ducktail style. He was burly, with veins on his neck sticking out. One with short, spiked black hair had deep, sunken eyes and hollow cheeks. There was also a set of twins, both with pure white hair and pink eyes, Albino.

Their leader spoke to her, still laughing.
"Damn, girl! We've never met anyone who could keep up with us like that,"

"I run pretty hot most times," She agreed, still trying to catch her breath. She noticed that none of the other boys even seemed winded other than gasping from laughing.

"Where are you from?" He asked, standing up and kicking his board up into his hand.

"I'm a wayfarer. Been hitching the whole way here from Texas. It's been a pretty rough ride. I came out here looking for employment opportunities, but I kind of got turned down."

"All the way from Texas on your own? Wooo, you gotta be a pretty tough girl. Got anywhere to stay?"

"Not as of now, no," She said, getting up and dusting off her jeans.

"Well, I tell you what," The boy continued, "We got a pretty nice little setup by the bluffs on the other side of town. There's tons of room, and you could stay with us until you find another place if you like,"

She shook her head politely.
"Thanks very much, thats a really kind offer, but I--"
She was cut off by the burly boy.
"We're not creeps, and we know you pretty much have no other option than sleeping in an alley tonight. Seriously, you should come with us. We've got a great place."

"Ahh..." She put her hand behind her head and messed with the back of her hair. The boy with the highlights stepped closer to her and put out his hand, his onyx eyes making her feel completely at ease.

"Well, why don't you take a little time to think about it? We'll take you to go get some dinner. You look like you haven't been eating much."
She chuckled in an embarrassed way as he pointed out her main weakness.
"That, actually, would be really, really, like, awesome."

He chuckled too.
"Great. My name's Ilya," She took his hand and he squeezed hers, smiling warmly at her.
"I'm Kat,"

He put his hand on her shoulder and she turned as he pointed to the rest of the group.

"This is Deeke," He said, pointing at the largest boy. Deeke nodded.
"Erin," He pointed at the skinny blonde boy, who smiled at her.
"Javi," The boy with spiky black hair winked at her.
"And this is Zay and his brother Jaz." The brothers laughed as if at an inside joke.

"Aaannd now it's time to eat!" Ilya shouted.
"This way!"

They took off down a side street with not much slope, but enough speed to negate pushing. This led them back down to the boardwalk where they patronized a 1950's style restaurant. They got two booths; Ilya and Kat sat across from each other as the other boys smooshed into the next one. As they ate, the other boys joked and laughed with each other, but Ilya ignored them, speaking only with Kat. He asked her about her journey to California, her old living situation, and why she decided to come to Santa Carla of all places.

"Welll...it's...kind of silly, actually," She looked down at her empty plate to avoid his eyes.

"Oh, come on, silly is great. I love silly. Seriously. Why here? Why not L.A. Or Venice, where all the fathers of skateboarding came from?" He put his elbow on the counter and rested his chin on his fist, gazing at her intently.

She sipped some of her milkshake, mentally conflicting on whether or not to tell him the truth.
"Hmmm...okay, but you're gonna think I'm a total idiot."

He laughed.
"Oh, no, no I won't. Seriously, tell me!"

She blushed.
"Fine...well, I heard this little rumor about Santa Carla..."

"Mmm hmm?"

She looked up into his smoky onyx eyes and felt that she could tell him anything, and he would truly want to hear it.

"...that there were covens of vampires here, and I have kind of always loved stuff like that..."

She looked away then, blushing more.
Oh, why did I tell him? He's gonna think I'm an airhead monster movie fan. Now what am I gonna do?

She was startled by his sudden silence. She had expected him to laugh, or at the very least, snort or something. She looked back up at him, afraid that she had made him angry for believing a stupid myth about his hometown that was made to bring in tourists. It surprised her even more to find that he didn't look angry or mocking, but enthralled. A slight smile played at the corner of his lips as his eyes shone in a playful way.

"Ohhh, the vampires? No, that's actually pretty cool. I've heard a lot of whoppers about them myself. They say, whenever someone new comes to Santa Carla, onto the vampires' turf, the bloodsuckers scope the newcomers out and feed on the males and mate with the females, and after the girls lay their eggs, they will eat the girls too. Creepy....waah."

Kat laughed.
"Oh come on, man! Now you're just messing with me!" She pushed his arm off the table and he cracked up.

"I'm not, really, I just heard that one last week! Okay, okay. I'll tell you a better one."

"Let's hear it then," She shrugged her shoulders up and leaned forward to listen.

"All right, here's a really good one.

"One time, there was this kid, and he was a real troublemaker. So one day, he decides to skip school on a whim and go hit the surf in the coast of the other side of the island. He goes and convinces some of his buddies to go with him, so all five of them ditch together. They get some beer, surf for a couple of hours, hang out, and get totally wasted. Just be stupid, right? And they're just having fun.

"So the sun sets, and the moon is full. The kid and one of his buddies are still out in the water, and the other three guys are on the beach. Suddenly the kid and his buddy get dragged underwater by something. They keep struggling against whatever it is, and it's attacking them, and tearing them to pieces. Then the thing is gone, and it takes the kid's buddy with him. The kid floats back up to the surface of the water, and his friends on the beach see him floating all mangled and they rush out to help him. They take him to the hospital because they think he's been attacked by a shark. They wait for him for a couple of hours, but then he dies. A nurse calls the three guys into the room where the kid is so they can say goodbye..."

"While they're standing there looking at his body, he wakes up, and attacks. He slaughters the nurse and one of his friends, and seriously hurts the other two before he can come to his senses, but he doesn't kill them. Only then does he realize what that thing in the water that attacked him was—a vampire. A feeding vampire."

"So he takes his friends who aren't dead yet, and gets the hell out of that hospital. God knows how he left without being seen. They all go back to the kid's house where his parents are waiting for him because he's been missing for a whole day. Nobody knows exactly what happened that night...but the next day, the kid's parents are missing. They never found the kid, but two weeks later they found his mom and dad's bodies underneath the boardwalk, rotting, and completely drained of blood."

He remained silent for several moments as she thought about the end of the tale. She noticed that the other boys had stopped talking as well. Had they been listening to the story?

Ilya moved then suddenly, making a ridiculous scary face and shouting,
"BLAAAH!!!!"

Kat jumped in her seat, not expecting Ilya's ridiculous action. She cracked up when she realized that he had scared her on purpose, and reached across the table to push him over in his seat. He dodged her blow and darted underneath the table, coming back up on her side and grabbing her. She heard the other boys explode laughing as he swept her from the table.

"RAAAAWR, VAMPIRE ATTACK!!!" He snarled in her ear as he picked her up.

She laughed hysterically as Ilya dropped her and ran from the restaurant. She chased after him, and the rest of the group ran after her. He jumped into the truck bed of a black Dodge and she followed him, cornering him and grabbing him around the middle as they both collapsed, laughing. The twins and Erin hopped into the bed also, while Deeke and Javi got into the cab.

Deeke drove them back up the hill they had bombed earlier and on toward the other side of town. The rising moon was touching the horizon when they stopped at a beach house overlooking Hudson's Bluff. The boys got out of the truck and went into the house, and Ilya led Kat over to the bluffs.

"God, you never get tired of it. It looks like it lights the ocean on black fire every time," He pointed out at the moon as he spoke. It glittered off of the water.
"Man, the surf is gonna be killer. And it's a full moon tonight..."

Kat looked at the building breakers down below and felt a tingle run through her arms and legs. Things were actually turning out pretty good for her first day here, and it would be the cherry on top of the sundae if she could actually get some surfing in.

"Hey Kat..." Ilya looked at her with a twinkle in his eye. She returned the gesture.

"What say we have a party tonight?"

She grinned.

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So tell me what you think! I am in love with writing this fanfic, and if anyone else wants
to actually read it, then I'll keep posting what I write. Also, I can't think of a name for my series as a whole... I want it to be in the form of '???': The Hellkat Genesis. For example-- Reign of Frogs: The Hellkat Genesis. Suggestions are VERY welcome. So REVIEW, peoples!!!