Title: Werewolves of New York
Author: lildreamer
Rating: T
Summary: AU of 6.14: Sanguine Love. In this universe, the vampires are real. And that changes everything…
Disclaimer: I do own CSI: NY or any of its characters. They belong to Anthony Zuiker and Jerry Bruckheimer. Too bad it got canceled!
A/N: Wrote this a while back (obviously!) Thought I'd finally post it. A little Halloween treat. Starts out slow, but gets better. Trust me. Also, you might be wondering why it's titled "Werewolves" when the ep was about vampires. Well, you'll see…
Okay. So, on with the story…
They say "a picture is worth a thousand words." To one young woman they were worth even more. Her camera was her key into the world she'd left behind long ago. The photographs themselves were brief glimpses into a life she would never have. Wherever she went, her camera went with her. She took pictures of everything and everyone. She never wasted a single opportunity. Some might call it a hobby. Some might call it art. But to her, it was the last remnant of a forgotten past.
She sat on a bench somewhere in the park, fumbling around with her camera. The batteries had died and she'd stopped to switch out the dead ones for fresh ones, but her gloved hands had turned the normally easy task into a slightly difficult one. After several tries where one battery went in but not the other, she finally got both in. With her camera ready to go again, she stood and continued down the snow-covered path she'd been following. She glanced up at the sky. No sun today, just clouds. Not good for taking pictures. But that didn't stop her. Anyway, she hated the sun.
A gust of wind suddenly blew through the trees, bringing her attention back to her hike through the park. There was snow everywhere. It was winter, and a cold one at that. Everyone was bundled up, trying to keep warm. But the cold didn't really bother her. Whether it was because of the thick coat she wore or something else, she wasn't sure anymore. All she knew was that she was the only person out there who didn't mind the freezing temperatures.
The snow crunched beneath her feet as she headed toward an open area where some people were taking advantage of the "Snow Day." She paused to take a few shots of some kids building a snowman. When she was done, she glanced down at the tiny screen to examine her work. She sighed, feeling the familiar pang of regret she always felt when looking at pictures of children. They reminded her so much of her old life. The life she could never go back to. Once she made sure the photographs were saved, she continued on her icy trek.
She trudged through the ankle-deep snow until she came upon a statue dusted with the white stuff. A good photo opportunity. She focused her camera on the statue with the skill of a professional photographer. She was just about to take the picture when a sound from behind caught her attention.
Someone was coming.
But she didn't sense the danger until it was too late. She gasped and her dark eyes went wide, feeling the sharpened piece of wood driven deep into her back. Her camera fell from her hands, flashing several times as it hit the ground.
Blood trickled from her mouth. She stared down at the growing bloodstain on the front of her jacket before her legs buckled underneath her and she collapsed facedown onto the snow-covered ground. As she lay there, the life draining out of her, she heard the sound of someone plodding through the snow. She turned her head, and her assailant's face swam into view.
The man gave her a contemptuous look. Then without a word, he walked away, leaving her to die.
And as her world went black, the only thought on her mind was how cold she felt.