Disclaimer: This story is a work of Fanfiction. I hold no claim to any but my own original components.

It was dark. That was the first thought that came to mind. She found herself running in a forest. She could only make out shadows of the figures that ran under the moonlight, alongside her. She counted four people right beside her, their feet clattering the ground. She longed to ask a million questions; Where was she? Why was she brought here? What was happening? Why were they running? But her mouth wouldn't open, as if she was looking into a memory. 'Keep Running!' one of them yelled, supposedly the leader of the four. With her heart hammering in her chest, she ran.

::: :::

'Skye. Hey. Wake up, you sleepyhead.' Skye groaned as she sat up into her seat. Her back roared in disapproval as pain shot through from her neck to her thigh. She looked at the person who woke her up. It was none other than Grant Douglas Ward. Grant was your typical 14 year old American male, and had pitch black eyes and short black hair. He was stupid in a cute way, that Skye would occasionally refer him to 'The King Idiot'. She would never admit it, but she had a small crush on him. Who wouldn't? He protected young kids and the newcomers to the school from being bullied, he was loyal and friendly, but not in the bad way, he listened and laughed at her bad jokes and puns, and he seemed stiff on the outside but when you got to know him, he was a kind, happy and peaceful guy. Skye was happy to be in the zone of the 'People whom he trusted' and that he considers her a friend. In summary, He was kind to everyone he met.

Grant chuckled from hearing her discomfort. It wasn't mean - just a light, happy chuckle that would fill her heart and make her smile even in the worst days. He continued: 'You slept for like, 4 lessons and you still can sleep?' He smiled his crooked smile. It was true. Nearly a whole day's of sleeping, and her body still isn't satisfied. 'I had to tell the teachers that you were meditating, you know.' he joked. Skye stole a glance to the teacher occupying the front desk. Ms. Dodds. She was a mean hag that punished you for even the littlest mistakes that you made. Ms. Dodds seemed to ramble something about: 'and I repeat, honey, never ever do that ever again! Now, back on topic. I have picked the easiest -' Skye didn't bother listening after that. She muttered to Grant 'How can you even stand this class? I can barely understand the language that she speaks in, I mean, the Holy Math Language!' She said, while doing Air Quotes, chuckling at her not-joke. He laughed silently, and he was about to respond until a loud roar suddenly erupted from the hallways. His smile quickly melted and was replaced with a steel mask - hiding his true emotions from her and everyone surrounding him. He muttered a quick 'I'll be right back', and twisting and drawing out the glasses that he had in his pocket, he silently ran into the corridor through the back door whilst Ms. Dodds was busy yelling at her victim. Skye didn't know what to think until she heard Ms. Dodds whisper her name.

:::: Skye's POV ::::

Ms. Dodds purred 'Skye, honey' as she looked at me straight into the eye. I shuddered as I heard her voice. Sometimes, she spoke in such a high tone, filled with authority. It was creepy. I heard snickers across the classroom as I instantly sat up. There was some sort of glint in Ms. Dodds eye — A triumphant glint? I have no idea. I felt my skin pricker as I stood up from my chair. I gulped. Ms. Dodds was staring at me so intensely that I figured either her eyeballs would pop out, or I would melt to dust under her glare. Even the students who were snickering before had grew quiet. I did the safest thing. 'Yes Miss?'

Ms. Dodds seemed to have snapped out of her trance. She had some sort of smile on, a evil smile on, just like the time she'd caught me staling candies in the jar under the desk. I mean — I'm not saying that I actually ate some of those weird and awkward shaped candies, I just had to try a little bit to see how it tasted, It was just like the homemade cookies that Grant made sometimes, but it looked nothing alike/but they had no resemblance whatsoever, and she happened to be there — Never mind. It's a metaphor. Or is it a simile? Or maybe just another phrase of words. Ms. Dodds voice snapped me out of my ramble. 'Now , come over here'. She beckoned me into the classroom's storeroom. I hesitantly went in.

Ms. Dodds slammed the door shut. I half expected to hear muffled snickers or laughter, even, coming from outside of the door, knowing that I was in trouble. Surprisingly, I heard nothing. Ms. Dodds suddenly materialised in front of me, but it should've been my imagination. But before I could say anything, she spoke.

'Skye, dear' she spoke, although it didn't seem like she was speaking, more like.. hissing? There was fire in her eyes as she hissed 'Did you really think that you could get away without me noticing, dear?' I began to open my mouth, but she cut me off. 'Your friend' she spat at the 'friend' part 'had done a poor job of concealing the 0-8-4. Did you really think that your little protector could protect a 0-8-4 from me,?' She began surrounding me, like a predator and I was the prey. 'Alas, he is currently battling one of those petty hellhounds that I've sent. Trying to protect an 0-8-4? He won't even be able to get to it in time, honey, much less camp'. She spat the word 'camp' out like it was a curse. I had no idea what she was talking about. What the heck was a 0-8-4? What protector? Suddenly, Ms. Dodds seemed to change form. Her leather jacket melted into two thick bat wings, her specialised high heels sprouted three tips instead of one, like a claw. Her skin became ragged as it grew thicker by the second, as if bubbles were running through her veins. With her hand — no, claw, she crushed her antique glasses as she threw them onto the floor. Instead of seeing her brown eyes, her eyes were blood red — with no pupil.

I couldn't comprehend what I was seeing. She growled 'Confess your status, and you will suffer less pain'. I really wondered if I should consider to accept the foster centre's offer for therapy classes. I could seriously need a lesson on over-imagination. With a growl, Ms. Dodds — in her new form, dived towards me.

:: AN ::

Hello! Thank you for reading. So what do you think about this so far? :) Please Review! I appreciate constructive criticism. (No Flames) The next Chapter shall be uploaded in a few days. For Philinda/Fitzsimmons/Huntingbird shippers - They're coming.. soon.