Author's Note: Sorry it took so long for me to update, I was having some trouble figuring out what to put Kerrigan through next. :} ( How sadistic of me. :P )

I also started using Microsoft Word so editing and everything else is a lot easier. I am assuming it will be much easier to read as well. ;)

Anywho, I hope this satisfies your fan-fictionie needs.

*In my blind rage, I had some difficulty unlocking the dead-bolt, but when it slid aside, I swung open the door and glared into shockingly beautiful, ice-blue eyes.*

Chapter two

My fury rose and then peeked, and then rose again. I couldn't believe that this man was actually standing at my door right now.

He seemed to be just as shocked as I was, his eyebrows raised in confusion as he recognized me. I returned his stare with mental daggers, cursing his mere existence. There was only two seconds of complete silence before I spoke, my outraged voice hissing in frustration.

"What the hell are you doing here?!" I all but screamed. I was furious that this beautiful man had bothered me at all, let alone at eleven-thirty at night.

He recoiled as if I had slapped him, mostly in surprise to my reaction. It took him only a small moment to compose himself before he replied, holding out his hand for me to shake.

"Jason Blunte," He said introducing himself, the velvet folds of his voice flowing palliatively, his hand still extended.

Jason. Huh. 'Jason' really did fit him perfectly.

After an awkward pause, he realized I wasn't going to touch him, so he let his arm fall to his side and continued. "My car broke down on Cheary, a few feet from your driveway. I was hoping I could use your phone so I could call for a tow."

He knocked on my door at eleven-thirty at night, and he expected me to let him use my phone?! Oh, if only his I.Q. matched his looks.

I wanted to slam the door into his face so hard that the impact would break his nose. I wanted to call him every bad name I could think of, in every language that I knew. I wanted to get inside my Sedan, and run him over.... And then put it in reverse and do it again... The only thing that kept me from doing these things was the realization that, if I refused to let him call, he would be stuck on my property, miles away from any other houses or gas stations.

Just my luck.

I quickly spun on the balls of my feet, fuming while I snaked around the couch and grabbed the cordless phone. I returned to the door just as quickly, rudely shoving the phone into his hands, then crossing my arms and glaring at him.

The man- Er, Jason, ignored my horrible manners and dialed. As if he knew just how to infuriate me more, he took his time while on the phone. I didn't think it was even possible for me to get any angrier.

When he saw me shiver, - me being in a flannel nightgown, and nothing else - he tried to hurry things up. His kindness ebbed some of my fury, but not enough to insure the safety of his life.

When he was finished, he thanked me and returned the phone. I swiped it from his hands and returned it to it's handset. I stomped back to the door where he was still standing and glared even more viciously.

"Need anything else? Perhaps some wine? Would you like me to polish your shoes while you wait?" I spat sadistically, hoping all of my resentment flew with my sarcastic remarks. The man gave a small smile and his brows pulled together into an amused expression.

"No, I think I'll be fine. I would love some iced tea if you have any, though," He said, his lips twitching, trying to hold back laughter.

"Sorry, fresh out," I spat through my clenched teeth. I needed to get this antagonist out of here before I chipped my teeth in frustration. As if he could read my mind, he turned away from me and loped gracefully down my porch steps. He looked over his shoulder and held up his hand in an unmoving wave.

"Thanks for the call." He said as he walked into the darkness. I scowled at his perfection. He winked.

I slammed the door, causing things to rattle and a tremor to slither threw the floor.

* * * * oXo * * * *

It was eight-thirty in the morning when I was awoken by a sickening snap, followed by the gnashing of what sounded like boulders smacking together with intense pressure. The sound from the impact was so loud I jerked up into a sitting position and clamped my hand over my ears, fervently trying to block out the painful noise.

With my hands still cupping my ears, I jumped out of bed and ran into the living room, grabbing the metal baseball bat I kept under my bed on the way. There was another loud smack as my house shook beneath my feet. I unlocked the door, fumbling with the dead bolt, and swung it open.

The sight I saw before me, I will never forget for the rest of my life.

Two men, one perfectly built, and the other seeming to be bigger than a race horse, were rolling around in the dirt, twenty yards away from my porch. They were biting and clawing, punching and kicking each other, yowling and snarling like animals.

The regular looking one rolled over on top of the larger man and raised his fist in the air, preparing to strike. Simultaneously, the big man moved his head to the side and the other brought his fist down and smacked it into the earth as he missed. The ground buckled under his knuckles and his fist slid smoothly into the dirt, causing a decent sized hole.

There was a loud smack, somewhat resembling the sound lightening made when it stroke the ground, as the large man kicked the other one off of him. The man went through the air and crashed into a nearby oak. The tree groaned in protest and it snapped, falling backwards and crashing into the ground, causing more snaps and cracks as it's limbs broke when they met the earth.

I stared, stock still as I took everything in. To be flown out that far, with that much force, had to result in death. So, there I stood, frozen, as the large man stumbled to his feet, wiping away the blood on his face with the back of his hand. I briefly considered running inside, calling the police and hiding in my bathroom until everything was safe, but I knew that I had to stop this before the large man could finish off the other one, if he wasn't dead already.

I gripped my bat tighter in my hands, and took a shaky step forward. I opened my mouth to speak, but closed it shut when I saw the, presumed-to-be-dead man rise to his feet. His chest heaved as he coughed quietly, then he spit bloody saliva into the dirt. My mouth hung agape as I stared at the man that should have been dead.

My eyes, on their own accord, drifted back to the man that resembled a body builder, the man that shouldn't have been able to throw someone into the air with so much force, no matter how big he looked. For the first time, I took in his appearance. He was big and lean, with greasy black hair that came slightly passed his ears. He was very tall, making him look ever larger when standing, as impossible as it seemed. He was wearing an old, mangled biker jacket with nothing but a dirty white t-shirt underneath. He was everything but pretty looking.

My breath then caught in my throat as my eyes yet again, drifted back to the man that was now laboring to breath.

The man that was propelled into the tree, was none other than the blue-eyed, black-haired beauty that presented himself on my doorstep only hours ago. What was his name? Jason. That was it.

"The hell !" I screamed in complete confusion, angling my bat for the ready. The two men's heads snapped up at what seemed like the same time, and stared at my horror-stricken self. The big man turned to face me with an annoyed expression, and I knew then that I should have left. I should have left and searched my house for some type of gun or sword that I already knew I didn't have, anything that would have been better than the crude weapon I now held in my sweaty grip. I should have left, not only to call for help or look for some sort of protection, but to get away from the potentially, but more like absolutely, dangerous men.

It happened, fast but slowly at the same time. It was nothing like you see in the movies, nothing slowed down when something dangerous happened. It was fast, but I saw everything that happened when it did.

The large man lunged at me, teeth bared and arms outstretched. Even though he was moving at an ungodly speed, I saw every move he made. But the thing that scared me the most, was the look he had in his muddy brown eyes. It was a murderous look, a deadly look. The kind of thing you saw in the eyes of a killer before he strikes, or something you would see in the eyes of a monster.

And I knew he was a monster. Not because of the look in his eyes, or the endless malice that seemed to leak freely from him, but because of the evil grin that was spread across his face.

* * * oXo* * *

"Marching thus at night, a battalion is doubly impressive. The silent monster is full of restrained power; resolute in its onward sweep, impervious to danger, it looks a menacing engine of destruction, steady to its goal, and certain of its mission."

- Patrick MacGill

Hmm!? Don't you hate cliffhangers?

I'll try to get the next chapter up as soon as possible.

Reviews are love.

-Nightongale