Wow, people, I'm actually posting something! Isn't that weird? I really am sorry for my absence - but I have great news! I finished writing my book! Hellyeah! And I sent it in to a publisher (who rejected it, but who cares?). But I had this awesome idea, and I had to post it. This is just back story, so bear with it - our fav peeps pop in next chapter! This is movie-verse, by the way (after the second movie, which makes me kick myself because I'm such a die-hard comic-verse junkie).

So . . . enjoy!


Prologue: Faster

"Will you please put that book away?"

She looked up from her notes and her copy of Stephen King's Storm of the Century to her Drama teacher. His face looked all pinched and angry - just like every other day, when he caught her reading something other than A Raisin in the Sun along with the others in class.

The teacher walked away without looking back, trusting her to put the book away. Buuuuuuuut she didn't - this was the only time she'd get to take notes over it. And really, she finished this stupid play two weeks ago, when the rest of the class was on Act I.

The formatting of this book was so odd - he had written it as a teleplay first, instead of a novel! So, if her deducting was right, then this was how all teleplays were written! She had to write this down so she could remember it in case she ever wanted to write something like this.

"Put the book away!" her teacher yelled at her, and with a sigh, she put the book and her notebook aside. The last thing she needed today was to get a phone-call home. Especially since Dad was home - no one wanted to mess with Dad when he was home.

The next half-hour dragged on like an English class. The people in class spoke slower than turtle shit, and were just as bright. There were two groups, really - the drama people, who were in every play, and snubbed everyone, and the people there just for the easy A.

She had come for a bit of both reasons - it was either this or AP Calculus, and she loved acting in front of people. Though, normally, she was a shy loner, on stage she shined. It was the one thing she indulged in while in class - she took clear and careful advantage of her time on stage.

While timed passed painfully slow, she let her mind wander. Did the agency get her query yet? Where those pictures done? Was her iPod charged? Was her package at home yet? Why wouldn't her bands (numerous as they were) come to her city?

Finally, once Act II, Scene iii was over with, the teacher took the stage. "Now, it's time to start presenting our solo projects."

She groaned with the rest of the class. These "solo projects" of his were his tool to see whether or not they could preform without the aid of others on stage (which is how half the class got through the period). She had no problem with it, of course, but sometimes the guy could be so rigid. The man needed to loosen up and get laid or something.

He turned to her. "Why don't you go first?" he asked amiably.

She stood, stretched, and let her junk fall to the floor. As she walked up to the stage, her backpack sat abandoned by her seat. Deep down, she really didn't care for it other than it was her brother's once upon a time. And the only things she held dear where in her pockets.

The stage. It smelled like fresh paint from the set for the new play. No one was paying attention to her, but she didn't care - that was going to change in just a second.

"Is it still me that makes you sweat?
Am I who you think about in bed
When the lights are dim and your hands are shaking as you're sliding off your dress?"

The class had quieted down now, and her teacher was glaring at her - he wanted her to act, not sing. But she would've pointed out that he just said "do something on stage by yourself", not "act a solo scene".

"Well then think of what you did
And how I hope to God he was worth it
When the lights are dimming and your heart is racing as your fingers touch your skin-
I've got more wit, a better kiss, a hotter touch, a better fuck-"

Her teacher frowned at the F-bomb being dropped so easily-

"Than any boy you'll ever meet,
Sweetie you had me-"

Someone in the front row started screaming. Everyone was screaming. They were running . . . even the teacher, who wasn't supposed to run, even in the face of a school shooting. So she stopped singing and looked backward.

It was a large shadow-looking thing, with pinprick red eyes and a slash of gray for a mouth. Its presence had killed the stage lights, and the only light in the entire auditorium was way in the back. Even though she had never seen one before, she knew what it was.

"Nephilim."

Shadow warrior. Shadow killer. Made of the darkness of human souls. She'd read about them - hell, she wrote about them.

"Seems fitting, don't it?" she whispered to herself. "That you're here for me?"

It dove at her and into her chest, and she could feel its cold, clammy hands around her heart, and it was ripping ripping ripping-

The next thing she knew, it was floating before her, with her still-beating heart in its hands. Her body was failing, falling, crashing . . .

"Let's get these . . . teen . . . hearts . . . beating . . . faster! . . . faster!" she muttered breathlessly before closing her eyes and diving for the light.