A/N: Okayyy, writing this as the dog freaks out upstairs, which is always freaky when the house is empty and mostly dark. Lolz. Anywayz, new story idea that I got while reading Linda Joy Singleton's Seer series. Awesome books, totally recommend them for fun-reading.

\!(-43

Amity Park was a safe haven for me. It was a place where I could finally be myself in a small town I enjoyed.

Well, mostly myself. It was hard to be completely myself after what happened at Madison High.

Either way, moving in with Grandma Ida was for the best. I was able to start over fresh. No one knew my past at Casper High, and I was beginning to actually fit in here. Ida and I have managed for the past few months on our own in her house.

It was the most amazing home ever, too. Our house had two floors and an attic, which I had claimed. There was a barn outside, complete with a few horses, cows, chickens, dogs, and cats. It was a cozy place, taking up ten acres for all the animals. It truly felt like home.

But life isn't always great. Not even in Amity.

" 'To the girl with the crescent tattoo, don't do it'?" Tucker Foley glanced at me, probably wondering if I'd gone crazy. "That's great stuff and all, Sam, but don't do what?"

It wasn't everyday Tucker came to me for suggestions to put into his psychic column in the newspaper. After all, my only job was to check for errors, never to write.

I shrugged. "How should I know? I don't even know if the girl exists. Tuck, you asked me for suggestions, I gave you one, using it or not is all up to you."

"Where'd you even get the idea? I mean, that's grade A stuff right there!"

"Tucker, decide whether or not you'll use it and turn your column in. You've only got twenty minutes.

"Sorry, Sammy, I just… it's different, y'know?"

Believe me, I know.

I wanted to scream that at him. His article was always the most talked about in the whole paper, yet when I mention an idea to him, all I get is his doubts.

Not that he knows my visions are real.

"Don't call me Sammy," I snapped instead. "My name is Sam."

"Aw, c'mon! Y'know you like it when I call you that!" He flashed one of his "winning" smiles.

I wanted to gag.

"Actually, no, I don't. And if you call me that again, I will personally shove my foot up your—"

He winced. "Point taken! Still, it's a weird thing to come up with. A crescent tattoo…."

"Yes, my mind works in strange ways. I'll be going now."

"See ya tomorrow, Sammeh!"

"Quit calling me that!"

\!(-43

I was lucky enough to get home safe. Lately, I'd been having visions of that tattooed girl nonstop. Always the same: blood, gore, and death. If I could just find her, I'd help, but I don't know who on earth she could be. I didn't even have an idea of where to start!

I ignored the thought and went past Ida to the stairs. The bathroom was on the second floor, and I had just decided on borrowing some of Ida's natural scented bubble bath when I heard something. Turning, I leaned in closer. Yes, I could definitely hear a sloshing sound from the bathroom.

Terrified and thinking someone was in there, I grabbed a broom from a cupboard nearby and approached the door again. I pushed it open with the broom handle and looked inside to see… a huge falcon bathing in the sink.

I was so confused by the giant bird that I didn't notice the shadow behind me. Once I did, I dropped the broom, opening my mouth to scream. A hand reached forward, closing tightly around my mouth as another snaked around my waist. I screamed into his hand as he dragged me out of the bathroom.

"God, how do I get you to shut up?" he murmured. His voice was hoarse and scratchy, like he hadn't used it in a long time or wasn't used to talking.

"You don't!" I tried to say. All that came out was "oo" followed by a clucking noise.

He tripped slightly, grabbing tighter at my waist. Startled and not realizing he was only trying to get his balance, I brought my leg up backwards between his. He let go of my waist and his hand on my mouth loosened.

"Dammit, this wasn't in the frickin' job description!" he growled, straining to keep from doubling over in pain.

Nervous that he'd been hired to break in or something, I bit down on his hand.

Hard.

"Duh—huh—hammit!" he cried. "That frickin' hurts!" He let go immediately, trying to check his hand.

I dove away from him and turned back, broom in hand again and glaring. "What the hell are you doing here?"

"You bite worse than the wolves back home! Do you have fangs or somethin'?" He sucked on his hand, wincing at the pain.

"Why are you here?!?" I yelled, raising the broom.

"Damn, you don't have to be so—OW!" he screeched when I hit him on the head. "Geez, Ida sure was lyin' about you!"

"How do you know my granma?"

" 'She's so sweet'," he said, imitating Ida's voice. " 'She'd never hurt a fly! She's accepting of everyone!' Yeah, hit the nail on the head on that one…."

"How do you know her?!?"

He simply glared at me. I finally got a good look at him. He was right around my age, maybe a year older. That meant he was seventeen with oddly bleached-white hair and bright, emerald green eyes. He wore black faded jeans that were baggy and ripped and an unbuttoned black shirt over a white muscle tee. He was taller than me, probably six foot or more, and his wiry body looked too thin to be healthy. Yet he had muscular arms and pale skin.

"Why are you in here?" I asked, slightly calmer now that I knew what I was up against. "What's with the bird?"

He let go of his hand, allowing blood to drip slowly to the floor. He eyed me for a moment before replying. "He's a falcon. He got oil on his wings, so I brought him in to clean it up. I didn't mean to spook you."

"You didn't 'spook' me," I denied, rolling my eyes at the phrase. Who spoke like that anymore?

"If you'd yelled, you'd have scared Blade off." He glanced back into the bathroom where the falcon—Blade—was splashing around.

"That falcon is yours?"

He turned to glare at me again. "He's not mine. I don't own him. You can't own somethin' wild."

"You let a wild falcon in here?!?" I screamed, shocked. What an idiot!

"Hey, he trusts me, and he was in trouble! If you'd screamed back there, he woulda hurt himself! He woulda panicked."

"So you attacked me?"

"I didn't attack you. I pulled you out. And if my memory's correct, you're the one who was attackin' me!"

"I—I—you—it—How the hell was I supposed to know that?!? I don't even know who you are!"

"Well, ya coulda asked rather than bite me!"

"Oh, that would've been brilliant!" I put on a high-pitched voice. "Hi, I'm Samantha Manson, and you've just broken into my house! What ever might you be doing here?"

"God, you're to sarcastic for your own good, y'know that?"

"Oh, and you're just a pile of cheer, I'm guessing?"

"Look, you don't know me, I don't know you, but I'm allowed in here, so let's just leave it at that!" He started to walk away, but I grabbed for his arm. I missed.

That only made me angrier. "I'm not letting this go just like that!" I yelled, whacking him over the head with the broom again.

He cursed loudly, throwing his hands up to protect his head. "It's just my luck to be stuck with the crazy chick!"

"Oh, I'm crazy? What about you? You have a wild falcon, for crying out loud! You broke into our house, and you're trying to say you know my granma!"

"I do know your granma! And it's not breakin' in if I'm allowed in!"

"Oh, yeah, and my granma let you in here without warning me? Like I'm gonna believe that!"

"Didja ever even think she mighta forgot?"

"Granma Ida would never forget something important like this!"

"She coulda!"

"No, she couldn't! You don't know her, so how would you know anything?"

"People forget things, it's that simple!"

"She wouldn't have forgotten to tell me some stupid boy was in here!"

"She coulda! Other people do!"

I scoffed, rolling my eyes again. Just how stupid was this guy, anyway? "Who in their right mind would forget about a kid?"

He lowered his head, casting his face into grim shadows. "You'd be surprised…."

"What does a jerk like you know about that kind of stuff?"

The tips of his ears turned red as he glared at me, fists clenched. "More than you, you selfish little princess wannabe!"

All I remember was hearing a slap. My hand hovered in the air, the back of it towards his face. A bright red mark was on his cheek, and his head was turned away from me. He still managed to glare sideways, though.

I had hit him.

I gaped, covering it up by stammering out, "H—How dare you? How dare you call me something like that! You don't even know me, you don't have the right to call me names!" I caught my breath, hissing out one last "How dare you?"

"Easily," he spat back. "It's princesses like you who royally screw up other people's lives! You may seem innocent and perfect, but you don't care about anyone except yourself! I bet you're pretty popular at school, huh? Hanging out with cheerleaders and jocks, making other people feel sorry for themselves while you step all over them in your climb to the top of the school's social ladder!"

I scoffed, turning away from him. "I don't see what my friends have to do with this, and I don't see why you're in my house!"

"He's here because I invited him."

I spun quickly to face Ida, who was glancing over him. "W—What?" I gasped.

"Nichael, you're bleeding! And your face is bruising, too!" She rushed over to him, trying to clean him up some.

"I'm fine," he muttered, turning away from Ida as a blush crawled across his cheeks. It stood out horribly against his pale skin, no matter how hard he tried to hide it.

Ida gave him a narrow look. "Are you sure?"

He sighed, turning further from me. "I'm fine!"

Ida glared at him before nodding once and turning to me. She gave me a horribly angry look, and I dropped the broom, blushing myself. "Heh heh, uh, hi, Ida…."

"Samantha Manson, you should be more polite! Nichael is new in town, and I've agreed to let him work around the house for the barn loft."

"W—What? He's—He's living here?!?"

"In the barn loft. He's going to be helping out around the house with repairs and the animals."

"B—But I can—!"

"Not like he can. Stop fussing and welcome him, Sam. Nichael is part of our family now."

\!(-43

A/N: Okay, first off, Nichael is pronounced Nizh-eye-el. Yes, this is a purdy extreme AU, but it gets very interesting later on. Anywayz, each chapter will be from Sam's POV. Well, byez, y'all!