Samantha Emerson was my first ever story on here, and my goal is make some restorations! It's been 5 years since the original was complete, and I'm taking the time to go back and clean up the story that started it all. With The Lost Boys making a reappearance on Netflix, I've been reliving some of my favorite parts of the movie, and I hope I can bring it to you!

I don't own any rights or characters aside from my Sammy, and without further adieu, let's get into this!

Chapter 1

Welcome to Santa Carla

She didn't fit the mold, and her mother was hardly tolerant of change.

Even though she loved her mom, she knew Lucy wasn't perceptive through the divorce, and Michael stepped up big time. She started hanging out with her big brother, finding her time spent fixing up his bike, playing ball with the boys, running away from her life in Phoenix. Boy-oh-boy she could run, and run far. That led her to her decision - rash, unfortunately.

She cut her hair.

"Samantha, what have you done?!" Lucy looked, and hair was everywhere.

Samantha had long flowing hair that draped down her waist. It was lighter than Michael's, and shone in the sun. Lucy loved it! She stood, looking at her daughter with horror; Samantha hadn't cut her hair in years. Her pristine hair was now messy and unkempt, chopping it to her shoulders. It was uneven and of novice skill, but she looked into the mirror with confidence.

Change was brewing. Summer was coming. They were moving.

Santa Carla was hot with the sun at it's peak, but the crowded car could care less as they stopped to stretch and grab lunch before the grueling start of unpacking. Michael stretched, showing off for the girls walking by and Samantha chuckled, jumping up from her seat.

"Oh, shove off Sammy." Michael grinned, pulling an arm around her as they walked to the stalls of boardwalk food.

"Stay close, you two!" Lucy spoke over the crowds, and she looked around the cluttered pier herself. Boy, times had changed. She grew up not far from here, and the crowd was much more rowdy than she remembered.

Regardless of the heat, the ocean breeze was a welcome change of pace, and the overcast coming in was lovely. Sammy and Michael enjoyed the chance to look out over the sand before heading back to the car. The drive to their grandfather's was also a pleasant one - far enough away from the noise of the boardwalk and away from the traffic of town. The dirt road made Michael smile under his shades, itching to get on his bike. Sammy looked out the window, but she grimaced instead. She spotted several horses on the property, and thought back to the time she was bucked off one as a kid. They crept to a halt in front of the elaborately decorated porch, covered from top to bottom in woodwork. At first, Sammy felt comforted by the cabin, and quickly changed her mind as she took in all of the animals. All of the stuffed animals. Grandpa was well known for his kooky taxidermy in the family, but she had never seen it so close. As her eyes averted from a stuffed beaver, she quickly scanned passed - Grandpa! He was lying on the floor!

"Hey, mom? Take a look on the porch." Sammy pointed to the body. Lucy ran over to her father, stricken with fear.

"It looks like he's dead." Michael didn't know what to do. A moment later, a deep chuckle broke the silence.

"Ha ha! Oh, Lucy, I'm just playing dead, and from what I can tell I'm doing a damn good job of it too. Let me know you guys around." Grandpa took his sweet time getting up and brushing off his pants, saying his hellos.

"Oh dad, that was a mean trick!" Their mom laughed, trying to brush past her embarrassment.

After an extensive tour of the cabin home, Sammy tried to settle in. Contrary to what she had thought, her room thankfully wasn't filled to the brim with taxidermy. During the move, their mom won custody and ran. They didn't have a truck of furniture and clothes waiting for them, and Sammy was upset she had to leave a lot of her life behind. She did have a couple boxes of her favorite clothes, and after unpacking the crammed shirts, she tried to get the wrinkles out of her favorite one the best that she could. The breeze outside was wonderful, and she changed into a light sweater.

Trying to straighten out the shirt, Sammy walked out to the top of the stairs. Mike was talking to the "Old Fart" on and on about the supposed murder capital of the world. Grandpa had told them only to reserve that title for special occasions. Sammy peered over the stairs, trying to hone in on their conversation.

"Well, let me put it this way, Michael. If all the corpses buried here was to stand up all at once, we would have one hell of a population problem."

"But if that were the case, wouldn't more people be out looking for these missing kids? There were a bunch of posters down on the pier, Grandpa." Sammy chimed in from the top of the stairs. Michael nodded in agreement. Honestly, Sammy could care less. I mean, come on! Santa Carla, the murder capital of the world? -That kind of news would make headlines! Someone call the National Inquirer!

After unpacking, Sammy had trouble staying awake. The afternoon was creeping along, and she was so tired of moving boxes here and there, moving them when her mom found the perfect spot. That wasn't the worst of it though; Mike had brought his weights with him, and boy were they heavy. She slowly crept back to her room, kicking off her shoes, and plopped on the freshly made bed. Scooting towards the window, she cracked it open for some much needed ventilation, and before she knew it, she found her way to the pillows. They looked so inviting, and after all of the driving and unpacking, sleep came easy.

Knock knock

Knock knock

"Sammy?"

Knock knock

"Samantha?" The sun was gone by the time that Lucy came up to check on her daughter, only to find her fast asleep on top of her covers. She leaned over the bed to close the window, the breeze picking up in the afternoon. The noise was enough to have Sammy stir, and after rubbing away the sleep from her eyes, she could focus on her mom.

"Well, good morning, sweetheart." Her mom spoke in the sing-song voice she used to joke. "I hope you're hungry, there's pizza downstairs, and I know that Michael is hungry." Sammy nodded, sitting up and rubbing her cold legs. "And he said something about heading into town! Maybe you'd like to join him." Her mom hinted.

"Thanks for the heads up, I'd love that." Sammy stood up, moving over to a box filled with her pants, and brought out a pair of jeans. "What do you plan on doing, Mom?"

"Well, I suppose I'll have to start looking for a job sooner than later. I'll check out the shops, but I'll try to catch up with Grandpa before I head out." Her mom smiled, and walking to the door, she stopped, turning back once more. "Hey Sammy?"

"Hm?" She hummed, turning to wait for her mom to continue.

"I know that it's been tough, with the divorce and all, but I really think you're going to like it here. Santa Carla has really grown into its own, and I hope you feel comfortable when you're...growing into your own." She paused "I know it's been some time, but I'd love to help with your makeup, your hair, if you plan on going down to the boardwalk!"

"Mom, it'll be okay, I really don't need-"

"Come on, it'll be fun. We'll have some girl time, just like we used to." Sam looked up to her mom, whose expression was quickly breaking. To shine some light, Lucy had always wanted a daughter. She had always wanted the little girl to dress up, shine her brightest, look her best. Unfortunately, as Samantha had gotten older and her marriage fell apart, she pushed her kids away. She was hell bent on fixing the marriage, and seeing her mother in such a state, even far away from their dad, was unnerving. She caved.

"Then we better not waste any time." She smiled at her mom.

Not long after, Sammy found herself looking better than she'd ever admit. Her mom did great work, and looking in the mirror, her hair was full, lips were plump and stained, and her eyes popped. Even though the summer weather was comforting, she kept on her sweater and jeans, and slipped on her old pair of keds. Hearing a bike revving up outside, she sprang to life and rushed outside not to miss Mike. As she left the house she heard a cat call.

"Well, hey there pretty lady. I don't think you've seen my sister around here, have you? Similar height, but she's got nothing on you." Mike joked, trying to keep a straight face.

"If I do see her, I'll tell her to stay away. She must be way out of your league." Sammy grinned, patting her brother on the back. "No hard feelings, haha." Her brother rolled his eyes, and they drove off towards the sights and sounds of town.

The live music could be heard from a mile away, and by the time the boardwalk was in view, the lights from the rides and games were blinding. Making their way through the concert crowd, Sammy took in the different types of people, young to old. It looked like an alien town, and everyone had wild piercings and clothes, and she felt out of place. She wasn't all ripped up, or what her mom would call frizzy. Everyone looked a bit frizzy, and she stuck out like a sore thumb. Even Mike, who had settled into the crowd, kept a protective arm over her. She looked up to the band and back to Mike, only to find him drooling over a gypsy in the crowd.

"Hey Mike!" She yelled over the crowd, even though she was right next to him. "Why don't you go say hi? It's not like she'll bite." he looked down to his younger sister in shock. Accepting the advice of his best wingman, he turned, scanning the crowd.

"Just meet my by the bike in a couple of hours, alright?" Sammy nodded, and Mike disappeared in the wave of people.

Finding herself drifting away from the music and closer to the games and shops, she felt small. She saw a group of older kids yelling and drinking, causing a mess, and they were coming at a b-line towards Sammy. Slipping into a shop off the main path, she pulled her sweater tight, and proceeded in further.

SANTA CARLA COMICS

Stopping in the middle of an isle filled with Batman comics, the hair on the back of her neck stood up, and she scanned the area. Two boys were watching her every move, and even though her body was screaming to get out of there, these kids couldn't be any older than fifteen. 'Play it cool, Sammy.' She thought, and walked over to them with a questioning look.

"Do we have a problem, guys?" She was still trying to figure them out. They looked to each other, and back to her. They both looked at her with judgement and caution, one wearing a greasy jumpsuit, the other sporting a red bandana.

"No." A gruff voice spoke.

"You're not a regular. You new here?" The other asked, his voice a lot less forced. Hesitantly, she nodded.

"Just got into town today, actually. My name's Sam." She planned on standing her ground.

"I'm Alan" The taller boy smiled. He held out his hand for Sammy to take and she willingly accepted. "And this is Edgar." He nodded towards the boy much more on edge.

"We're the Frog Brothers." Edgar added, his voice still much lower. "So, you've got a new perspective on the place. Notice anything...unusual about Santa Carla?"

"Edgar, don't scare her." Alan warned, casting a glance at his brother. Ignoring Alan's wishes, he motioned towards Sammy, expecting an answer.

"Everything's a bit weird. I don't know what to say. The whole place is a big change of pace. I feel like a martian." Sam kept her eye contact with Edgar. She didn't want to blow her cool.

Snagging a comic off the shelf, Edgar shoved it in Sam's direction.

"Trust us, you'll need this." She glanced at the book, noting the childish title. Vampires Everywhere. The book itself was old and worn, the blue cover fading; they must have had it for a while. "It may just save your life." Sam's face dropped, and she looked at them with disdain. Sensing the tension, Alan stepped between them.

"Hey Sam, don't freak out, it's just a comic book. But there are some real characters out there. The boardwalk isn't a safe place, especially at night. Here, take it, no charge." Alan was trying to mediate the tension without going into too many details, and Sam suddenly felt like she was in a good cop - bad cop situation.

"Hey look, I appreciate it. But I didn't bring a bag, and I'd much rather not carry it around all night. I'm happy to come back for it." Edgar and Alan shared a cautious look, and after a moment of contemplation they nodded. Sammy handed Edgar the comic, and headed towards the front of the store. Even though they acted like they were mad Rambo characters, they seemed quite sincere. Somehow, she didn't want to let them down. Turning, their eyes were still boring into her, and she spoke up again.

"If I can get a ride, I'll swing by around noon tomorrow." She smiled, and they nodded together. As she turned she heard them talking about something of 'distractions against the enemy' and 'truth, justice, and the American way', or something like that. Shaking her head she left the shop for good.

She found her way back to the concert, letting the music distract her from the Frog Brothers and their comics that could "save lives". Swaying with the beat, she started down a long set of stairs, noticing that time wasn't on her side. She had to get back to Mike! Not registering the last step was lower than the rest, Sammy found herself falling face first towards the concrete, and she braced for the impact. She didn't have the time to make a sound, but much to her surprise, she stopped falling in a quick rush. Strong arms circled her, and without a beat she looked up to see a stranger holding her tight. A stranger on the boardwalk stopped to help her! She gripped his arms for support, and they stood up together. With her eyes scanning up, she took in the long curly locks framing his face, and she was breathless.

He looked at her in awe, and she looked at him the same way. He was a beautiful stranger, with his eyes, bright against the lights on the boardwalk. They must have been blue, or maybe grey? It didn't matter and Sammy was captivated, looking up at him like he saved her from the grave concrete danger. His eyes were curious, his cheeks were red, and slowly his lips turned from a cocky grin to a low, almost shy smile. He looked at her the way that all girls want to be looked at. Slightly stunned himself he took in her darker eyes, cheeks red with embarrassment, and her lips were slightly agape in awe. Slowly coming back to her senses, Sammy realized just how close he was to her rescuer. A musky smell lingered on his jacket, which was adorned in bright but scratchy patches, and she realized his arms were still around her. He must have realized the same, and took a small step back, giving them both some needed space.

"Thanks for the help. I...I didn't even see the step." She was stuttering, impressed that she had found words at all!

"Anytime. I'm glad I was there." He smiled, almost a cheshire grin forming. His voice was without fault, and he spoke with such a smooth confidence. Sammy almost melted to a puddle, and was just shy of openly gawking at him. She...was almost hypnotized by the way he was looking at her, and it was something that she had never experienced by, well, anyone. Clearing her throat, she tore her eyes away from him to grab hold of reality, and let out a more mellowed breath.

"Thanks again," She began, trying to form a cohesive sentence. "I better get going. With this being the Murder Capital of the World, a girl can never have enough mace." She joked, turning to walk away. The man raised a brow as she turned.

Nothing will hurt you on my watch.

Sammy furrowed her brows, looking to see if anyone had spoke. He grabbed her arm lightly, stopping her in her tracks.

"I'm sorry, but…" he began "are you new around here?" Smiling slowly, Sammy nodded at him.

"It's my first night here in town. I used to visit as a kid, but now it's on a full time basis." She didn't know why, but she wanted to tell him more, and now she was kicking herself for telling all of this to a complete stranger.

"That's...oh, really?" He spoke quietly, and seemed to slowly dissociate. He was deep in thought for some time before speaking again. "Well then, I guess I'll be seeing you around. I'm Marko, by the way." He grinned down to her, straightening out his jacket. Marko, Marko.

"My name's Sam." She grinned. "I'll see you later." Turning and walking away, Sammy found herself carefully walking back up the stairs, gushing about her curly haired rescuer. Marko. By the time she had made it to Mike and the bike, she was beyond grateful for the bright lights to mask her blushing.

"Any luck with that girl?" She asked her brother, trying to clear the fuzzy thoughts in her head. Mike shook his head like he had brushed it off, and mounted the bike, Sam soon after. "There will be more nights to try, bud. Maybe she'll come around." She hugged at his back, and found herself going back to thinking about her own time on the boardwalk; her thoughts drifting back to Marko more often than she'd like to admit.

I'd like to approach this as a restoration piece, trying to capture what my goal was when I started Samantha Emerson 7 years ago. Thanks for the love and support, and I'd love to hear from you! What do you think of this idea? I'm so excited to be back!

Best wishes, Crimsonsky132