Hello! This is my first Twilight fanfic in a long time, I was re-inspired after watching Twilight when I was home sick from school. Anyway, I'm focusing on the werewolf side of Twilight, and hopefully I will write stories for each shape-shifter in the pack.

I hope you all enjoy! And, please review/favourite/follow - it would mean a lot to me, and motivate me to continue the story. Thank you! :)

Prologue

Like a beacon of sound, the ambulance twisted and manoeuvred through the lit streets of Seattle, its sirens whine cracking through the chilled air, snaking through the thickened fog. Curious eyes gazed at the ambulance as it powered through red lights, leering around corners.

Inside the vehicle laid two patients, and three paramedics. A middle-aged man, his scent stained permanently with an undeniable layer of alcohol. His unshaven face was sheen with blood, slipping from a slick gash across his scalp. He swore and muttered in irritation as he was forcefully commanded to stay still, as the female paramedic applied bandages and cleaned his wounds. Parallel to the harsh man, was a little girl. Her innocence blossomed in her features, and although a bloody cut was engraved in the corner of her eye, she appeared to be in a peaceful sleep. One of the two male paramedics nursed her head as he knitted stitches carefully beside her right eye, whilst the other paramedic was attempting to stabilise her heart beat. Her sequined shirt was ungracefully scissored down the centre as the paramedic tended to her feverish heart.

Upon arriving at the emergency entrance to Northwest Hospital, the young girl was of priority, and was promptly escorted from the back of the ambulance by the male paramedics, and they wheeled her through the emergency doors with haste in their steps. Transferring her care to the doctors on standby, the paramedics reluctantly stepped away from her gurney and slinked back through the emergency doors after explaining the situation and the girl's current condition. As the pair of paramedics turned away wistfully, they came into direct contact with the girls fathers gurney, accompanied by the female paramedic and the paramedic who'd been driving the ambulance. Their eased style of pushing the gurney into the hospital was explained in the man's minor injuries. He'd dislocated his kneecap when he stepped on the brakes, pressuring his knee against the interior of the vehicle until it shifted in place. His head had been sliced open as a result of slamming it against the windscreen, also contributing to the concussion the man was certain to have.

Once the middle-aged male was wheeled into a temporary patient room, his vitals were checked as well as his wounds, before the nurse began asking him questions as she adorned a clipboard form with scrawls. His name was Joshua Uley, a five-star unemployed alcoholic, whiskey still fresh in his loud breath. He muttered a viable explanation as to why he drove head-on into a truck. After receiving a prescription of painkillers, he was faced with an additional nurse, also hoisting a clipboard in her arms, as she asked for the little girl's details. Perrie was Joshua's 13 year old daughter, she'd been curled up asleep in the passenger seat with a dog-eared copy of Little Red Riding Hood when the car collided with a truck, brutally tearing her from her slumber and throwing her into the windscreen.

Joshua narrowly avoided an interrogation with a police officer, and in his lapse of relief, his nurse offered to escort him to his daughter. He accepted, and followed her through the halls of the hospital, until they reached the childrens ward. He was directed to a curtained off area of the ward, where he found Perrie lying in a hospital gown, her wounds cleaned, but her eyes were still shut. A needle was injected in her arm, connecting to a drip, and tubes were carried up her nostrils. Waiting for an explanation, Joshua scrutinised the nurse fiddling with the drip.

Noticing his heavy gaze, her expression fell into one of sorrow. She softly began to explain, using tangles of scientific words to define Perrie's condition. But all Joshua could understand was 'comatose'. Perrie was in a coma. Narrowing his eyes at the nurse, he demanded if she would ever wake up, his voice carrying more force than necessary. The nurse shifted her gaze to the little girl in the bed. She didn't know if Perrie would wake in an hour, a day, a month, or ever. Joshua's expression was twisted, the combination of emotions unreadable by both nurses. Perrie's nurse, Olivia, lightly requested Joshua to go with her and sign some forms in regards to Perrie. He didn't object, but a glint of anger sheened his tinged red eyes. The nurse chose to ignore it, and handed him several medical forms. While Joshua scribbled messily on the forms, his daughter was sunken in a deep coma, her mind hazy and disorientated. In between the car crash and being placed in the hospital bed, her mid-chest length dark hair was tangled and her blue hairclips had been yanked from the black tendrils. In a neat pile on the chest of drawers was her shirt, destroyed by the paramedic's scissors, and her skirt, unharmed, was sitting underneath her dirtied sandals.

Joshua stood at the foot of his daughter's bed for several minutes after finishing the forms, before he slipped his jacket on, and slowly trudged from the children's ward, from the hospital. He never went back.

I hoped you all liked this sneak peek prologue! I'll upload the first chapter soon, but I'd like to receive 5 reviews and 5 favourites before doing so. I'm not review-thristy, I just know it disheartens me a bit when I receive no feedback, and it'll help me keep writing this story. Thank you everyone!

VampBirdie xx