Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respected owners. The original characters and plots are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended. Therefore, I do not own the Lost Boys. They own me, he he ha ha.

Hey everybody, it's been awhile, but I've really missed posting here. I started this awhile back, it's a sequel to Destination Unknown, for those of you who enjoyed reading that. I ended up taking this one down because it wasn't exactly where I wanted it to be. Now I feel like it is and I'm excited to share it with you. Feel free to check it out and leave a review because you know they are loved. :D

Santa Carla, 1987-

Wakey, wakey girl!

Serenity tossed and turned in her bed as the sounds of the ocean plagued her mind, creating an irritable insomnia. It wasn't just the ocean either; it was the wind blowing outside her window, bringing a warm breeze just off the Boardwalk to send word that the amusement park had fallen eerily silent on this summer night. The rides had come to a halt and the lights blurred, giving a sense of sudden foreboding. The young girl, sensing these events, squirreling about in her bed, was not from this town, but the town had become her blood, as had some of its local residents a year earlier, and even though she hadn't seen them in quite some time, their need for her help was now dire. Some would call the tragedy Serenity was about to learn of a miracle, a gift from God, as the hunters vanquished these demons, one by one. To her, the subconscious pain ran deep through her veins, burning and setting her soul on fire.

At last it was too much to bear, and her eyes opened in the darkness. Her bedroom was silent and still, undisturbed by her visions, except for the noise at the window. The rose bush outside was tapping against it lightly in the breeze, its own way to whisper through the glass, telling her in private that it was no dream. A shiver moved through her body and limbs from this realization and she suddenly felt very cold, even with all the blankets piled on top of her knees as she sat up in her bed, turning to see the presence that had brought in the chill.

"Paul?" The joy that came from seeing him again after so long was quickly smothered as she took in his appearance. He was soaked all the way through, standing there, holding himself, shivering. His hair was a disheveled mess, wringing wet, and plastered against his face, where gaping holes leaked blood. But this wasn't what disturbed her most, what did was his form, blinking in and out as if he were a transparent ghost. This caused her to shrink into herself under the covers, and her face to twist in pain as she looked away in discomfort. "Why do you have blood all over you?"

Most little girls would have shrieked and hid from the monsters that go bump in the night, but Serenity was anything but ordinary. She had befriended the vampires known as the Lost Boys one night as they had been hunting in the most peculiar of places, her hayloft. From night one they had been interested in her. At first for the simple fact that she was, at the time, a nine year old child that knew what they were and was unafraid. Their leader had called her brave, and had leaned down with his famous smirk and told her that they had been searching for something bigger, but that there was more to her that met his eyes. She knew he knew things about her that he refused to disclose, but didn't see him much after that. Marko and Paul became her go to monsters and they were always there, telling her stories about their hunts, and letting her wear their jackets around for fun. Paul more often than not came to visit first. She had found him one night, sitting in the hayloft opening, his feet dangling down, and a cigarette in one hand.

"Looks like snow," he had said thoughtfully.

"Snow? Here?" She had laughed at him, but sure enough, the next day it snowed.

Now she found herself in the midst of his alarming, ghostly presence, pinching herself to make sure she wasn't still dreaming. She had always known that out of the four of them he carried the most energy, but this was so unlike him. He was silent as the stillness that comes before a storm, and it started to scare her when he wouldn't speak. "Paul!" Water began to leak from his body, pouring out over his clothes and down his boots as he stood. It formed a puddle at his feet and soaked into the carpet as his face turned on her, his eyes red with rage and pain, and his fangs protruding against his bottom lip. An eerie whine sounded out around the room and behind the noise, a screeching came with it. The beast in him was dying, withering away and had cast the vibration out into the room. It washed over her, hitting her in waves as his screams in the distance became torturous and then slowly faded away. The agony was horrid. She felt her skin melting, peeling away, her heart bursting open in flames and tears soon streaked her cheeks. The vision was too powerful and at first all she could do was weep as he stood there still, watching her, not saying a damn word and it filled her with rage. At long last she lurched forward from her bed and threw her arms around his body. To her surprise there was substance to it, and he caught her before she could fall to the floor. Her chin caught his chest and her head jerked back as she looked up at him, crying with legs that were unable to regain their balance.

"Cry for me, lil sis," was all he said before his figure disappeared and left her plummeting to the ground. An agonizing cry erupted from her mouth as she found herself caught by the palms of her hands before landing face first against the carpet. The feeling of loss had dug an enormous hole right through the middle of her chest; through her heart, her lungs and her stomach and it caused her to gag. She crawled as if she'd been dealt a powerful blow to the top of the head, digging her nails and fingers into the soaking wet rug, her legs numb and dragging behind her as she made her way to the door. An image of a house took over her field of vision, as she finally was able to grasp at the frame of the doorway, clawing at it while tears continued to stream down her cheeks. This was where she needed to go and fast. Her mouth opened as she looked up, as if expecting him to be there to help her but instead one of her own screams echoed out through the house. Now it was only a matter of time before her grandparents woke to the noise and rushed in to see what was the matter. She couldn't let that happen. In an attempt to silence the pain spiraling through her, she bit down on her lower lip and grabbed hold of the wood, grasping it tight in her hands to pull herself up.

Seeing through the darkness, it was as if someone had engrained a road map right in the center of her pupils and tunnel vision had taken over, and as much as she felt the need to get outside and get moving, there were quite a few miles between her and the place she saw before her. Not only that but her stomach felt as if it had been turned inside out. The bathroom was a few feet away, but fumbling to get there made it seem as if hours had passed before she finally managed to reach the sink. Her hands grasped the sides so tight that her fingers turned white as she stared down at the drain, but nothing would come, not even a dry heave. She groaned as she forced herself to look up into the mirror, her face tear stained and her hair disheveled as if she'd been in a fight. The image lasted but a second before the glass cracked and she jumped, looking back down as if the atmosphere had suddenly turned into a dream. She choked when she saw blood in the sink and franticly turned on the water to dispose of it down the drain, but when the water turned to blood she gasped and fell backwards. The skin on her arms began to burn once more and looked as if it were melting away. The room around her shook and once more she could hear the strange animalistic cries of one in pain. "Oh, God." Her voice wasn't even a whisper, but more of a cracking whine as she realized that Paul was calling out to her once again. His nudge was urgent and quickly becoming violent. "I can't move!" she cried out as the tears began to drip from her eyes again, blurring her vision. "I want to help you! I have to help you!"

No one ever said that a nudge from a dying vampire would be gentle, or otherwise who would listen? But Serenity had gotten the message loud and clear. Feeling melancholy was out of the question. Now it was her turn to defy gravity and the sickening sensations pulsing through every fiber of her being. With a quick gasp for air, she forced herself back up and once outside the bathroom found that her skin was back to normal. Now the journey could really begin. She glanced around the house, looking for what, she wasn't sure. Another sign maybe? But it seemed as if she was really on her own now.

Just as that thought crossed her mind, a flash of headlights dashed across the living room wall and a strange, eerie, muffled sound filled her ears. Quick to realize it was the horn of a truck, she rushed towards the front door and glanced out the window. An old battered thing racing down the driveway, weaving looked as if it were going to crash right into their fence. She wanted to yell for it to stop, but as soon as the urge hit her, the truck did in fact stop. She paused in awe, still staring out the window, her heart racing as she took the scene into perspective. It reminded her too much of one of those old horror movies, as she could clearly hear the vehicle idling and see the dust rising in front of the headlights from beneath the tires. Her body slinked back and she made a small noise as if she were about to cry again. There was no doubt that she loved her boys, but this was too much. She wasn't quite old enough to think this deep, this involved, and yet she knew Paul's life was in her hands, and that's all it took to grab hold of the doorknob and push forward. The darkened, quiet house made no protest as she hurried over to the vehicle that waited, but what would she see inside there, a skeleton or withered, broken body?

The truck was a metal mess. It had one door and a battered front end, as if it had just gone through the side of a building, while the bed contained various things, one of which included a few fence posts. Serenity stopped dead center in the headlights and like a naïve little girl, threw a hand up over her face to shield the light in order to see. To her surprise, the outline in the drivers seat was of an older man, with gray, almost white hair. Her hands dropped and she skipped around to the door, grasping the cold handle as if she were going to open it and force him out.

"What are you doing out here all alone little lady?" His voice was neither gruff, nor smooth but the tone was nothing short of amazement.

Serenity's eyes turned to slits and her brow creased as she questioned his question in silence. Wasn't it far more peculiar to see him out here in the middle of the night, on her road?

"What's the matter? Cat got your tongue?" He squinted right back and she could see the sweat and soot all over his face, making his eyes appear more like that of a raccoons.

"I'm…" It was all she could get out and in frustration she looked down at the door, noting the color of rust. Time was wasting, but her lack of strength was beginning to hinder her mentally.

"Well, come on. Get in! We don't have all night, and I've got graves to dig."

She swallowed hard upon hearing that and looked back up at him with her lips parted as tears began to form once more in her eyes.

"I know where you need to go little lady, now are you coming with me or not?" There was something in his eyes when he said this. They twinkled even in the dark and took on a vibrant blue and for a second she saw Paul staring back at her. She gasped and fell back, hurrying to the other side of the truck, where a lack of door permitted her easy entrance and she hopped right in. Seconds later, the truck sputtered as it shifted into gear, grinding until the old man took his foot off the pedal and away they went.

Now getting into a truck with a complete stranger was a big risk and not very prudent on her part, but what were the odds of someone just happening by at such a late hour? Not to mention the fact that her goal had been right smack between the eyes of this old man. She had seen the vision, and like before in her bathroom, she felt a presence there, pulling her, leading her on, and she was right. About twenty minutes later, the old truck turned onto a long driveway that led right up to the house. An archway of wood greeted them, as did the eagle that adorned the center, flapping its wings as if to scare off unwanted intruders. A small picket fence lined the property to the right and left, as did handmade wooden chairs that surrounded what looked to be a garden. All over there was so much to see and take in, but the simple fact was that this was the house Paul had shown her. She felt the hair stand up on the back of her neck as she looked over at the old man. He had stopped the truck and was sitting with a blank expression on his face. The feeling she got from it was anything but pleasant, and she wondered if this was the place he meant to bury the bodies he had mentioned. If that were the case, her time was running out and she slipped out of the truck.

The house itself was enormous, but not unknown. She had heard about it before when it was used for Polo matches back in the day. Whoever owned it now had turned it into something of a museum with its countless wooden carvings and an immaculate front porch. Why the boys would be here baffled her as she hurried in past the front doors, or what remained of them. They were shattered, broken and ripped into thin strips of wood. Had that old truck gone through them? All around the inside lay broken glass, and wood splinters and ash covered everything in sight, but the most prominent of findings was the stairs. She wasn't sure why, especially when the plumbing made strange gurgling noises and everything was saturated in blood. The smell alone would have made the strongest stomach nauseous, but the upstairs beckoned her to come. Not even the sparks coming from an old stereo a few feet away caused her to turn around.

Her hand touched the rail and her feet carried her up. The smell got stronger as she climbed, taking in small breaths, and slow steps as the force drew her with its invisible hands into the brightest of the rooms, even though the door obscured her ability to look inside before entering. Water ran down past her feet from the room and dripped over the stairs. It was clear and yet it wasn't, tainted by the same red she had seen in her sink. Her stomach turned at the thought and she whispered his name. "Paul?" The door creaked as she pushed on it with the tips of her fingers. The floor was tiled, wet and covered in some sort of funk, and the facilities were all destroyed. It looked as if someone had come in with a bomb and annihilated it, with the exception of the bathtub. It still stood intact and Serenity swallowed hard to get the lump in her throat to go down.

The smell of death surrounded her. It pricked at her skin, made it crawl, and left a sour impression on her taste buds, but the real sensation came when she moved closer to the tub. The room appeared to shift and fade out and suddenly she was caught in a whirlwind of action. Two young boys that couldn't have been much older than her knocked her to the floor, and in their hands they held squirt guns high in defense. She knew them somehow, but behind them, to her surprise was Paul. He was covering his face, roaring out in some kind of pain and when he dropped his hands, glowering over the two, she could see the same small holes he had appeared with in her bedroom. "Paul!" Scrambling back, the sound of something else barreling in distracted her and she looked back at the same time he did. "No wait!" she cried, raising her hand as if to stop the dog that appeared, but it was too late. The mutt was leaping for the vampire, pushing him down into the tub. What was in it anyway? She wondered, all too soon getting the answer as his body started to convulse. The water lurched into his orifices, into his mouth, his ears…it ate away at his skin and the sound was horrible. Her body trembled and shook and she looked down to see her own skin beginning to peal once more and melt away and she screamed.

A half a second later it was all over, and once more she was left sitting on the floor looking around at an empty room.

She started to sob, kicking her feet out while shaking her head in disbelief. This couldn't be happening, not to her, not to them. A bubble formed at her mouth as she made an outward pained sound as the tears fell from her eyes with no barrier to stop them. Serenity knew what was in that tub, but she didn't want to see it. Her whole life felt as if it were crumbling before her and she didn't know why, or how it had come to this devastating tragedy. This was her childhood before her, and as she pushed herself forward, crawling on hands and knees to finally look over the tub, her sobs grew louder. She could feel the saliva forming behind her lips as she sputtered out a drastic no at the sight of nothing but bones and a few fragments of material that had been his clothes. Below the shell of the skeleton at the base of the tub sat his eye ring and his bracelets, and very careful not to disturb him, she reached in and picked them up. Hitches in the sound of her sobs came fast as she studied them in her hands, holding herself over the tub with her arms and elbows. What else could she do now but morn the loss of her buddy? Yes he was a vampire and a killer and most would condemn him to death of this sort, but their friendship had gone beyond that. "Why did you call me here to late? Why didn't you tell me you were leaving!" she blurted out and fell forward, her chest hitting the porcelain below as her salty sadness dripped and splashed against the off white of his bones.

David had once said there was something different about her, but that was all he had said. How would that help her now, and where was he? Where were the others? How could they let this happen?

In that moment something in the pipes made a noise. It sounded as if something were knocking against them and at any moment they would burst. She looked around, desperate for answers and felt a cold hand on her shoulder, but when she looked no one was there, just a bloodied handprint. Blood. Her tears stopped abruptly and she sucked it all up, breathing in labored gasps as she looked around, blind to the answer.

You know the answer, girl.

It was a faint whisper behind her and she turned fast to see it. "Paul!" No one was there, but the sharp, ragged pieces of the toilet seemed to shine under the light and caught her eye, and in an instant she was reaching for one, pulling up her sleeve and holding her wrist over his dried out form. There was no hesitation, just the small scraping sound of porcelain on soft tissue. The jagged edge ripped along her vein and the blood followed, seeping out of the wound and spilling out over Paul's remains, but as per usual, her wound quickly began to seal. This was a mystery to her all and had been for a long time. It wasn't normal for a human girl to heal as fast as she did, but her grandparents had never said a word about it. Was this was David had been referring to? She shook her head in frustration and cut it again, this time skipping over to her other wrist to do the same, uncaring about whether she lived or died as long as he was brought back. Over and over she did this, showering him with her life until his bones were soaked in crimson and no longer white. Tiny black dots danced before her eyes and finally she passed out.

Hours later she awoke to the same setting but there was someone else in the room with her. It didn't matter. If they came to hurt him, she would stand and fight however she could, but as she rose and peered up over the tub, she noticed that there was life brewing there. Over the bones appeared chunks of flesh and veins. Matter had formed in the empty sockets of his eyes and it looked as if something small and round was beginning to grow where his heart should be. She gulped and moved to open her wrist again, knowing that what she gave couldn't have been enough. To her surprise a strong hand stopped her and pulled her back despite her screams of protest. She was spun around to face this person. His artic blue eyes sent chills down her spine and her lips tightened shut.

"He'll live now thanks to you, but now you have to forget, and forget you will."