Well here it is, my first chapter! I hope you enjoy it! As always, if you see something that needs fixed please let me know! RR's are very welcomed! updates will come as often as they can!

(Little warning ahead of time, slight gore at the end of the chapter!)

(Also some words might be spelt wrong. I've tried to catch all my mistakes but If you happen to see some I missed. Please let me know so i can fix them! Thank you!)

Chapter 1-Wandering and something wicked.

I'm not excatly sure how long I've sat under this pier for. Just watching the waves crash on the shore as I try and gather everything in my head of the recent events that had taken place. My right side of my face hurt something awful. My father like every other night had been drunk out of his mind and looking for some way to abuse me and my mother. Tonight it was over a dish in the sink, one single fucking dish! He had grew outraged and I had just so happened to walk in at that time. Yay me! And that ended with a few words spat back and forth and then me running out the back door nursing my new brusied face. People know what goes on. But to them, I was just another low life Thompson kid. So what the hell was it to them if I was being abused at home? I didn't have any family to run off too. My mom's mom had died when I was three. She was the only other family I had here. She adored me and my older brother. She even use to adore my father, we all did. And my friends, well the two I have are crazier then anyone I know. The Frogs. What a last name. A weird last name to go with two even more weird teenage boys. But, I love them. We all have been friends for the last six years. Outcasted by others we were all we had. And though they weren't abused by their parents, their parents weren't excatly there for them either. Usually too high out of their minds to care about the things around them, kids inculded.

I had thought about going to their comic book shop they own and live above. But, I didn't want to bother them while they worked and have them fuss over my face. Plus, they can be kinda too intense at times. Especially when going on about the suposed vampires reeking havoc over the city. I'm sure there is something wicked out there, I mean someone or something sure is killing all these people. But vampires? Come on! They even try and claim werewolves run city hall or some crazy theory like that. I usually have to try and keep them out of trouble when they start going on about that stuff. They once tried too stake this really pale girl who came into their shop one night. Poor thing was scared out of her mind and of course seen the next day arm in arm with some other girl. The sun high in the sky and beating down hard with out a care if it was frying the people under its rays or not. I swear it's like babysitting two little kids. I mean Edgar is fifteen and Alan just turned sixteen, so they aren't much younger then me. But they sure do act it sometimes. I usually just agree with them so they will hush about whatever they are going on about and try and make sure they don't stake no one who looks a little to pale for thier likings. Thankfully when we first met I was rocking a killer tan, so I was safe and we ended up bonding over our love of comics instead of a near death experince by their hand. Alan was the first one I connected with, Edgar always being more of the closed off, giving you a hella hard time till he thought he could trust you if he ever did type. I loved it about him though, because it made him very protective over those he loved and cared about. Alan though too, hesitant at first warmed up quicker then his brother. They were like over baring, protective, crazy siblings that I loved to death.

Though, I missed Laddie and have since the day he disappeared. "Stupid fucking bastard of a father." I grumble, rubbing at the side of my face gently. A cool breeze blows and makes me shiver slightly. Pulling my thin hot pink jacket around my shivering form a little tighter, I stand and try and brush my unrurly hair out of my face. Sand sticks to my legs and slightly fills my ragged black converses as I do. Brushing the sand off my bare legs and bottom, I head for the boardwalk. Wondering if I have enough money in my pocket for a hot dog or something else to fill my stomach. Not much bothered about the sand in my shoes as it happens on a daily. It only take me a good fifteen minutes to make it to the boardwalk. The sounds of it the first thing I hear, before the lights come into view off in the dinstance. Bonfires here and there liter the beach with teens and young adults gathered around them, drinking and goofing off. I avoid them as best I can. Especially one in paticular. The foulest of species surround it, hooping and hollering as some heavy metal song plays from a radio speaker. Sand kicking up around thier dancing feet, hair wild, clothes ripped and ragged as if homeless. Surf nazis. Though a lot of us like to call them wannabe pig rapist surfers. But that's besides the point. I avoid them as if they are a plauge. Which I mean in their own way they are. They are always stealing comics from the Frog brothers too. Jerks.

Making my way up the stairs and on to the boardwalk I find the place still pretty lively. Meaning it must not be as late as I thought it was. Colorful lights surround me, along with carnival music, laughter and chatter. Most of the people still on the boardwalk are the unrurly teens, as the older people have called it a night and little ones have been taken home and tucked into bed. Didn't matter to me who cluttered the place or not. I didn't mingle with them and they didn't mingle with me. I don't know excatly why I didn't have other friends, why I was cast out as an outsider. It just seemed to happen the older I got. And I know it couldn't be my style or anything. I mean have you seen some of these people? I guess it really don't matter. Just means less people to get close to right? Sighing and once more trying to fix my hair I head in search of food. Coming up to a hot dog stand I dig in my pocket and find ten dollars. Two dollars and something later spent, I'm now seated on a bench stuffing my face with a loaded hot dog and downing a much needed drink of sprite. My hevily black ringed hazel brown eyes scanning the sights around me as I do. I do a double take of a group of bikers a few feet away, most of their backs turned to me. Tilting my head I look at one in paticular, he has longish dark brown hair kinda like mine and is clothed in a leather jacket that looks kinda familar to me. Though I can't see his face, just the back of him. Something feels off. But as i notice I'm being stared at by one of his friends, Whos pretty blonde hair is wild and out there as if a member of Twisted sister a smirk plastered on his face as he had caught me straring. I give a sheepish look and turn my head away, standing up. Throwing away my trash I don't give the bikers another glance. Though had I of, I would have notice all of them staring at me as I walked away. And in that moment I would have learned something very important. I knew one of them.

I had seen a few of them around, twisted sister included. They had showed up a few months back. Causing havoc the moment they stepped foot here. Funny thing is, the killings started the moment they came. Coincidence? I don't know. I do know a lot of surf Nazis have come up missing and its usually after they have a beef with the bikers. The lost boys I think is what they call themselves. They give me a weird feeling. I haven't decide if that was a bad thing yet or not. I guess only time will tell. I wonder the boardwalk a little longer, until i notice it starting to empty and shut down. I had passed the comic book shop awhile ago as its connected to the boardwalk. I hadn't seen the brothers and they didn't see me either. I know I'll have to face them soon enough. But just not tonight. Even though I know they'd give me shelter and stuff. I'd just rather not. I'd feel like a inconvince and I don't want that. So with that in mind I wander back down to the pier. Not as many fires liter the beach now. Though one still remains. The Nazis. They pay me no mind as I slink back to my comfort of darkness and use my jacket as a pillow as I lay down in the sand beneath the pier. Closing my eyes and praying sleep takes me soon.

-Unknown-

The boardwalk was silent and dark as it had closed down for the night. Workers going their seperate ways, tired and ready for sleep from having worked long shifts. Though while almost everyone else was going home and to bed. Few still lingered on the beach. The only distubance of the night was a group of Surf Nazis still partying around their bonfire. No care in the world as they let lose and have fun. unaware of the eyes watching them from the shadows. A deep breath is taken as a pair of those eyes close before slowly reopening. Thier once warm brown orbs now a scorching red and yellowish color. Their once handsome face now morphing into something unnatrual and frightneing. Their friends doing the same with eyes to match. The gleam in their eye meaning one thing. Someone was about to die. With their targets set they swoop in. Laughter now turned to screams of pure fear and agony as they are viciously slaughtered. Cries of people begging for their life filling the air, followed by vicious snarls and slurps, snapping of bones and torn ligaments as blood stains the sand around. No surf Nazi left untouched as the remains of the now dead Nazis are thrown on the fire to burn. The last sound to be heard is the happily demonic laughter of the creatures that had just feed on them. Before they vanish off into the night. The only thing that lets you know something horrible has happened is the blood stanied sand and the bones in the fire. And only a mile or so away lays a sleeping form under a pier. Sleeping soundly, unaware of the events that have just taken place. And not knowing that the night is no longer safe for her in the place she calls home.