Introduction

Disclaimer: All Wheel of Time characters, etc belong to Robert Jordan. I am making no money off this story.

I've got to admit I love a good Mary Sue story every once in a while. They can be fun, and engaging and they really get to the heart of why most people write fan fiction in the first place. Reading, or watching, isn't enough for us. We want to be there with these characters, really get to know them.

However, lately I've been finding a lot of the our-world-to-theirs storylines that include avid book fans who somehow are able to completely adapt to the world in an instant. I find this incredibly annoying. So I decided to write this little tale, hopefully a slightly more realistic version about someone who's never heard of the Wheel of Time.

I imagine, it could be rather inconvenient being sucked into a world where indoor plumbing (and toilet paper) have yet to be invented. Not to forget all the nasty critters trying to eat you or suck out your soul, and many unpleasant folk running amuck with swords.

Anyway, I wanted everyone to know from the outset what I'm doing, so you don't have to waste your time if you're not into this sort of story. Oh, and as compensation for all the horrible things I'm about to do this character, I'm planning to hook her up with the characters I would most likely be attracted to. Considering my personal track record with men, this may get interesting. Besides, what's a good Sue without the romantic angle.

That will be a little later in the story though. Additionally, there are definite language warnings, and violence to follow. I think that covers all the preliminaries. For now, let's get this thing rolling...

Chapter 1: The Beginning...

OK, so I know it's not a very creative title, but that's what it was. The beginning. I should have known something was up when I got the call from Jerry Lee.

Now, Jerry Lee was a sometimes friend of mine (always a pain in my ass) who fancied himself a student of Native American shamanism, which is funny, considering this boy's about as Caucasian as you get. German Momma, Irish Daddy, little rich kid who mail ordered his peace pipe and loincloth from one of those expensive online stores.

So I answer my cell phone, and Jerry Lee's talking for five people, all tripping over his words. I gleaned from the conversation that he had recently acquired a rather large quantity of peyote buttons, and wished to indulge in a "vision quest" with a few of his closest friends.

Considering what happened the last time he went on one of these expeditions, he decided to ask me along as a bouncer/babysitter for the crew. Normally, I would have turned him down flat.

Spending two days in the middle of the Arizona desert watching people I don't know run around puking on themselves and talking to cacti is not my idea of a good time, but I had my own reasons for wanting to get as far from the city as possible that weekend.

I don't know what loud mouth fucker told Jerry Lee about my recent personal tragedy, but he then, as my friend, took it upon himself to provide me with an alternative to murdering my ex boyfriend in his sleep and spending the rest of my life in prison.

I said yes.

Don't know how things would have turned out if I'd said otherwise. Maybe it would have happened anyway. I've never been a big believer in Fate, Destiny, determinism, all that shit, but lately... well, I don't really know anymore.

Anyway, one Friday evening, myself, Jerry Lee, Susan McCullough, Danielle Ford and two guys whose names I don't remember were piled into the back of Jerry Lee's Volkswagon bus, bouncing across dirt roads. I don't exactly where we were - BLM land all looks the same to me - but we stopped at the bottom of this huge mesa in the middle of BFE. That's Bum Fuck Egypt to the uninitiated.

"I hope you don't expect me to climb that big ass hill, Jerry." I said eying the mesa suspiciously.

"Fuck, no, Lyse. We're just going on the other side here. Can't be in view of the van. Not conducive to spiritual enlightenment. Too modern."

"But you brought nylon tents, and tiki torches?"

"Nothing with an engine, Lyse. "

"You are a fucking freak, Jerry. And stay the hell away from my canteen...and the water supply. I don't trust you with that shit," I snapped at him, reaching under the back seat for my shotgun.

"Jesus, Lyse, what the fuck you bring that for?"

"Coyotes," I returned flatly.

He shrugged and finished dragging their gear out of the van. We set up camp on the other side of the mesa and had a nice little fire going before the sun set. I remember it was a full moon that night, and cold. Very cold. Desert cold is different though. It's dry and sort of... comforting, in a way.

I picked up my canteen and headed back to the van. We hadn't unloaded the water or the majority of the firewood. It wasn't that far of a walk. Back at the fire I could just barely hear them laughing as they passed the bottle around. They wouldn't be laughing quite so hard in a few hours.

Peyote's a rough trip.

Sure enough, about the time they started puking, I set myself up in the front seat of the van. I could watch the main road - if you could call it a road - from there, and not be "involved" in the chaos. I was only here as emergency back up, after all. They were grown adults - sort of.

I propped the doors open and popped an Eagles cassette into the player. Leaning the seat back and wrapping my duster a little closer around at the collar, I closed my eyes. I think I might have drifted off for a while. Should have been worried about running down the batteries, but I was already pissed at Jerry Lee, pissed at Brady (my ex)and his little slut, pissed at the world.

I woke to screaming.

This was not entirely unexpected, considering the purpose of the excursion, so at first, I wasn't particularly concerned. When the sound cut off abruptly, I started to get nervous. Typically, Jerry'd scream his fool head off for an hour or so.

I checked the shotgun, and stepped around the van, calling out as I circled the base of the mesa.

"Jerry? Jerry Lee?" No answer. "Susan? Danny?... Shit."

As I came in sight of the camp, I could see this huge furry shape outlined in the moonlight. It was hunched over one of the sleeping bags. I thought for a minute Jerrry'd managed to slip me something. Then it stood up.

I'd never seen anything like it in my life. Nearly ten feet tall, it's eyes glowed in the reflected moonlight, a sickly yellow, jaundiced color. It had horns, and it was holding Jerry's head in one paw. I'm proud to say, I didn't panic. I shouldered the shotgun, and the moment before the thing's head exploded, I realized with a sort of detached wonder, that it had been carrying a sword in the other paw. A sword for fuck's sake.

I didn't have much time to contemplate that fact because the thing wasn't alone. I saw other shapes moving towards me, and heard a woman start screaming somewhere in the darkness beyond the tents. My second shot took one of the things in the chest.

When I realized it was still coming towards me, I knew I was in serious trouble. I'm not ashamed to say I didn't give a good goddamn where the others were. I pumped that shotgun for all it was worth and started backing towards the truck - and my extra ammunition.

I had just touched the door handle when I heard a tremendous roaring that seemed to come from all around. I felt something pick me up, as though it had reached inside of me and yanked me into the air by my spleen... a brilliant flash of light, brighter than a thousand suns, and the worst pain I've ever felt in my life then...

Darkness.