Thank you all for being patient with me on the updating situation. I've had a lot on my plate with getting ready for college: going to orientations, getting books and everything else. To all younger teens out there, get as much financial aid as possible. Fill out as many scholarship applications as possible; even if you think you won't win, FILL IT OUT ANYWAY! I won three scholarships, two of which I was absolutely positive I wouldn't win. But I did! Anyway, I'm saying this because, and listen to this, COLLEGE IS EXPENSIVE! Even with the three scholarships, it's really hard on the budget.

Also…not too important, but if you haven't noticed already, I sometimes put updates about what is going on in my profile. So…if it's been nearly a month since my last update and you're wondering what in the world is going on…check there. I might have written something to let you know. You don't have to check everyday though! It's not like a diary or anything, just every once in a while I will put an update in there.

Okay…I'm off my soap box.

Too Young

Chapter 6: It Begins

"Hey miss, you okay?"

The voice had been sharp, a harsh, grating insult to her ears. Everything was loud; everything was hard. Every sight that she took in burned her tired eyes and every sound thundered inside her head.

"Yeah…I think…I'm okay."

"Do you have a history of seizers, honey?"

The sound of the woman's voice didn't hurt as much as the man's did, but it was only slightly less painful. "What? Uh…no…no I'm just fine thank you. I think I'm just going to go home an…,"

The world went black.

Voices.

She heard them all around her; whispers of nameless children. The voices echoed and seemed to fade in and out, as if they were reaching her from a great distance away. She couldn't tell exactly how many there were, or what the voices were trying to convey to her. One thing she was sure of though; the voices radiated fear.

Libby opened her eyes, and still saw nothing. Blackness filled whatever void she currently resided in. She opened her mouth to call out, but her voice crooked in protest. A hot, oily taste crept up the back of her throat, making her gag and spit. The voices increased in volume, swarming around her like phantoms.

"Hello?' she managed in a strained squeak. The moaning voices accelerated in unison, growing more urgent with their strange cries. Libby gathered her courage, "Hello? Who is that?" she called, though failing to match the intensity of the otherworldly calls. The voices answered by growing even louder still, vibrating through her ribcage and sending monstrous bass-like jolts through her body.

The cries, a combination of male and female voices, increased several octaves, creating an ear-splitting screech. Franticly, Libby covered her ears, and attempted to cradle her head in-between her bent arms. The noise, despite her attempts to block it out, penetrated right through her hands, violating her ears and causing her head to throb. The sound was assaulting; the pain blinding.

Libby felt her body falling, crumpling to the ground. Instinct told her muscles to curl into the fetal position, a primitive form designed to protect the body. She felt the voices traveling through her, forcing their way into her soul, as if seeking an answer to a question Libby didn't understand. The entities traveled in and out of her pain-filled body, ravaging her, completely disregarding any thoughts for her well-being.

She writhed, trying to roll away from the intrusive beings. The voices stayed with her, following her movement and continuing the unforgiving attack. What is this? Why is this happening to me! Deciding to try one last time to gain the voices attention, Libby sucked in air and tensing her diaphragm, shouted in to the black nothingness, "STOP IT! PLEASE STOP!"

The voices answered, moaning in hysteria and screeching in defiance. "WHO ARE YOU? WHAT DO YOU WANT WITH ME?" The voices were unforgiving; they overwhelmed her, suffocating her with their desperate cries. "Who are you?" it was barely a whisper, for she was beaten.

A light, shimmering and white in color, appeared directly in front of her eyes. It was small, a tiny ball of light that hovered in mid-air, dancing to music that only it could hear. She followed the light with her eyes, watching warily as it began to grow, developing itself into a ruff imitation of a human-being.

Libby felt an unusual sensation gripping her. Amongst the horrifying, pain-filled screams of nameless children, this light…this being of white, spread a sense of hope and comfort through her fear ridden body. She watched in silent amazement as the being reached out a shimmering limb, an arm, and spread its fingers, inviting Libby to take hold of the hand.

Staring at the outstretched, Libby knew what to do. She had no explanation to how she knew it, but as if instinctual, Libby reached out her own hand, and locked grips with the white entity. Once she had made contact with the light, a warm, prickling sensation flowed into her palm, crawled up her arm and spread throughout her body. It was physically painless and seemed to awaken a feeling within her…a feeling of having a separate being in her body.

The white light spread up her body and filled her vision, blinding her to the thick blackness that consumed stanch air. Streaks of color spread through the light, thrusting her through a beautiful, but also unsettling vortex. The voices screamed after Libby as she was blasted out of the torturous room, calling to her to return…to help them.

Quite suddenly, the voices were cut off as Libby was thrown out of the strange whirlpool. She found herself standing in the middle of a dense forest. Trees and brush surrounded her in thick, nearly impenetrable lines, fencing her off from the outside world. Wind blew softly through branches, causing the leaves to rustle as they whipped like flags in the wind. Birds chattered high in the tree tops, singing songs that only they knew. She heard insects chirping nearby, the locusts and crickets trying desperately to attract a mate. Okay…where the hell am I?

The distinct sound of water flowing over rocks alerted her that she was nearby some creek or stream, something that both comforted and alerted her at the same time. Being next to water meant that she would have something to drink if necessary, but that also meant that other things knew they could get a drink as well, things such as coyotes and raccoons, both of whom could get very violent if they felt they were backed into a corner.

The water issue aside, Libby felt very at ease in these surroundings, quite a different feeling than she had in the loud darkness. This quiet, bright atmosphere deeply reminded her of her home, the home she and her mother had just moved away from; the small horse farm where she had lived her entire life. It had been nestled beside a dense forest, much like this one, and she had countless memories of playing in it with her best friend…

Libby shook her head, trying in vain to erase the memories that were flooding into her brain. She isn't with me anymore. She choked down the sorrow that threatened to overwhelm her and instead of lingering on the past, set her mind to figuring out just where she was.

Cautiously, she began to inch her way forward, keeping a wary eye on the ground. She was in a strange forest, crossing strange terrain; she couldn't afford to fall in a hole or trip on a rock and hurt herself. Plus, I have to keep an eye out for snakes. She reached the trees and choosing a less hinder some path, continued through the wall-like tree line. Though she was well-experienced in the woods, Libby did, on occasion, loose her footing and soon had to reach out to the trees for support, being careful to not touch any poison oak or the like.

The distinct snap of a stick startled her, causing Libby to whip around and scan the forest bed behind her, "Hello?" Besides the common nature sounds, the forest was silent, undisturbed by any other intruder besides her. Airing on the side of caution, Libby backed herself flat up onto a tree, keeping a watchful eye on her surroundings. She stood, statue-like, waiting for any signs that she wasn't alone.

Minuets passed, and still, Libby neither saw nor heard anything that would be uncanny in the woods. Deciding that everything was fine, she removed herself from the side of the tree, and turned back the way she had been heading.

Libby froze, her foot hovering above the ground. She stood perfectly still, hardly daring to breathe in the wake of what stood only feet from her. Libby's woods sense was no match for what defiantly stared her down, gazing at her with intense gold eyes. Her eyes traced it's huge, hard body, muscles tense under a healthy coat of glistening snow-white fur. Paws larger than what she could have ever imagined gracing any animal under the sun ground themselves into the muddy terrain with long, deadly claws. The animals jaw hung open, exposing the long, white teeth that were sharper than most kitchen knives.

"Oh…shit"

Libby watched as the enormous white wolf eyed her without fear. Instinct commanded her to run away, to run for her life, but hundreds of books and nature movies begged with her to stand still; to stand her ground. Through her knowledge of animals, Libby knew that nine times out of ten, if one ran away from a predator, that predator would be inclined to give chase. Hell, she'd tried it with her dogs numerous times, and sure enough, they had given chase. Of course, I knew my dogs wouldn't try to rip my throat out when they caught me, she mulled bitterly.

From deep within its body, the wolf emanated a growl, warning Libby of its proud stature. Realizing she needed to back off, Libby began to ever so slowly, inch her way backwards. She watched the wolf closely, but refused to look it in the eyes; she didn't want the wolf to think she was challenging it.

This is going to work! She had backed over 20 feet from the defensive wolf and it had shown no further signs of aggression towards her. Getting braver, Libby increased her speed, wishing to get away as fast as possible. The wolf, not liking her sudden action, bristled and curled its lips over its upper teeth. Libby again froze, praying that she hadn't just made a fatal mistake. The wolf growled again, sending the rumble out across the forest's land from deep within its belly. Libby watched as the wolf's tail puffed and raised, a sign of aggression and dominance. The both of them stood like this for several minutes, neither one of them making a move.

Without warning, the wolf lunged, heading directly toward Libby at a breathtaking speed. Survival kicked in and Libby turned tail, running in the opposite direction as fast as she could, all the while knowing that in reality, there was no way she could out run the wolf. She commanded her long legs to carry her faster than she had ever attempted to run before, praying that she could somehow keep ahead of the wild beast behind her. Years of blindingly running through the rocky creeks and root-covered woods floors of her homestead served her well now, allowing her to fly over the terrain by twisting and turning around the numerous limbs and trees that loomed in her path. Her ankles, having been trained from a very young age to bend at odd angles, once again did as she ordered and bent like rubber at angles that would've broken the bones of a common, city-raised person as she ran over loose rocks and the round, circular branches.

Despite her quick, deer-like movements, she was barely able to detect the wolf's heavy breathing right behind her. Libby didn't dare steal a peak at the beast following her; her frayed nerves couldn't afford the shock. She thought she could discern hot, sticky breath penetrating the worn jeans covering her legs, a sure sign that the wolf was right on top of her; but it could just have been her imagination. The mind congers up many things when faced with a life or death situation.

Pain exploded through her left ankle and zigzagged its way up her calf. Though the rest of her body was still racing forward, the hole her left foot had fallen into acted like cement, encasing her leg and preventing her from traveling any further. Libby plummeted forward, intuition causing her to raise her arms to help break the fall. As her palms impacted the muddy earth, she felt tiny bits of rocks and twigs scrape her flesh, biting their way into her skin.

She felt air rush past her as she heard something land in front of her. Raising her eyes, Libby directed her attention to whatever was now in her path. She gasped as her eyes took in the sight of the wolf turning on its haunches, staring her down as it again faced her. Realizing that the wolf had launched itself into the air to pounce on her just as she had fallen, Libby felt relief spread through her tired body; relief that just by pot luck, she was alive.

The wolf, eyes aflame with anger, snarled at its prey. Libby had no idea if her ankle was broken, but she didn't like the idea of chancing her weight on it. Adrenaline eased the pain, but also clouded her mind. She was powerless to do anything to save her life as the wolf gathered its taunt muscles and sprang towards her. Closing her eyes, Libby was vaguely aware of her arms rising, a pathetic attempt to shield off the eminent attack one of natures best predators.

Just let it be quick, she prayed.

"You okay there, little miss?"

Huh? Libby opened her eyes, and was immediately forced to squint, shielding her sensitive eyes to the blinding light. Am I already dead? Jeez, that was fast.

"Miss? Can you hear me?"

If I'm dead, then why is someone bothering me? Carefully this time, Libby cautiously peaked open her eyes, scanning her surroundings.

"What…" Gone were the countless oaks, maples, pines and cedars that had loomed over her just seconds ago; gone were the troublesome weeds and thorn bushes that had plagued her flight, and gone were the soothing, relaxing sounds that only Mother Nature could provide.

What had replaced these things, however, was a complete opposite from where she had previously been, and was the third time she had found herself in unfamiliar territory in what seemed like just minutes apart. Old, chipped and sun-baked pavement substituted for the mud and dirt she had been sprawled on before. Tall, aged buildings that had seen better days, stood in place of the ancient, intimidating trees, casting oblong shaped shadows.

"Excuse me young lady, you okay?"

Finally shifting her gaze to the direction of the voice, Libby felt her stress-bunched shoulders relax as her eyes took in the shape of a man dressed in a cop's uniform. He appeared to be in his early-to-mid forties, but still had a healthy head of rich, brown hair, cropped short in the traditional policemen style. The cop wasn't overly tall, but his kind, gentle smile and chocolate brown eyes gave her a rare sense of safety.

She watched as the cop extended his hand, offering to help her up from the hot sidewalk, where she sat in a heap. Without hesitation, Libby took his hand, allowing him to pull her up into a wobbly standing position. Her ankle, the one which had slipped into that "hole" now felt fine, completely empty of pain or stiffness, as if it had never happened.

"Well…that's more like it. Must admit, you had me worried there for a minute," came his pleasant, deep voice. Although he kept his tone lighthearted, Libby thought she could detect a small hint of a deeper torment, as if he had suffered more in his life than anybody ever should.

I need to figure out what's happening, she thought frantically. "Wh…Where am I?" Libby looked deeply into the police officer's eyes and felt, sensed really, that she could trust this man to lend her the help she needed.

The cop raised his eyebrows and scrutinized her, something that Libby didn't overly like, "You sure you're okay?"

"I…I don't know," Libby diverted her gaze to get a better look at the surrounding town. "This isn't where I was…before," she breathed, taking in the intricate colonial stonework and the aged, faded brickwork adorning the sides and faces of homes and buildings. Further down the streets, Libby spied numerous town citizens dotting the landscape, casually walking their dogs or playing Frisbee with their children. A couple of pairs of young lovers walking hand-in-hand were quietly laughing, whispering into each others ears. "This isn't right; this isn't where I just was."

"Don't you remember, miss?" he ventured, choosing his words carefully. "You've been here all along. You were walking here, along the sidewalk, when you just collapsed. I saw you from across the street and headed over."

"Was I?" the cop nodded, his trained eyes looking for any evidence of illegal activity. "No…no I was just in a forest…and…" Libby was growing impatient, and nervously began to run her hands through her shining golden hair.

The police officer scanned the girl up and down, taking note of her anxious behavior, "And…what?"

Libby hesitated, knowing full well that she sounded crazy. Maybe I am crazy. It wasn't a pleasant thought. "And there was a wolf." There, I said it.

The cops eyes widened, confirming what Libby thought he would suspect. "A…wolf." Yeah, here we go. The policeman ran a hand through his short hair and then crossed his arms, examining her.

"Uh…miss…"

"Libby," she cut in, not wanting to hear the faked formality word again.

"Libby…there hasn't been a wolf in these parts for…well…nearly a hundred years. Maybe more."

Libby's lips formed a tight line, her eyes pleading with him to believe her. Fat chance. She watched anxiously as he sighed, seeming to exhale all forms of stress he was holding inside. Finally, he nodded his head, "All right, fine. A wolf. So where was it?"

She too, exhaled a sigh of relief. Goal one. "Well, like I said, I was in a forest a minute ago," she looked around, trying to spy the woods she had just been in.

"Well, Springwood is surrounded by forest. Can you tell me which direction yo…"

"Wait, did you say we were in Springwood? Springwood, Ohio?" She gawked at the town around her. It is Springwood…just different. Similarities still existed, but the town she had only just now recognized as Springwood, was slightly different than what she had grown slightly familiar with the last week or so. The place seemed…older…but yet…younger. She couldn't explain it.

"Yes, we're in Springwood, Ohio. Didn't you know that?"

"Uh…it looks…different."

"Well, I don't know why. It's looked this way all my life."

Has it? "Who are you?" Maybe a name will spark some memory.

"Oh…I'm sorry. Lt. Donald Thompson, Springwood PD," once again, he offered her his hand, but this time in mutual friendship.

"Liberty Morgan…Libby," she accepted his hand, noting that Lt. Thompson scrunched his eyebrows, as in deep thought. "What is it?"

"Aw, nothing. It's just…Morgan…the name seems familiar."

"It shouldn't. My mother and I just moved down here about a week ago from Pine Bluff. We've never been here before."

Thompson still looked uncertain, but taking her word for it, shrugged his shoulders, "How about I take you back to the station. There we can call your mother and have her pick you up; I don't like the idea of you walking off by yourself."

Meaning you still think I'm fruity, she thought with distain, but she kept quiet.

"Uh, thank you. How far is it?"

"Not far at all, in fact, it's right around that corner," he pointed to the nearest street corner and began walking, expecting her to follow. After a couple of seconds, and after quickly flipping through her options, Libby trotted to catch up to the receding cop.

They reached the Springwood Police Station without any more hindrance, much to Libby's relief. She walked through the heavy glass doors while Thompson held them open for her, and then followed him down a hall and into a wide room. People were sitting in chairs and reading pamphlets and such, waiting for the next available cop to lend them help for whatever they needed. Thompson weaved her through several rows of desks and police work stations before finally reaching a separate room.

"So…does your mother have a name or a phone number I can look up?"

"Uh…her name's Sophie Morgan, but…" Libby hung her head in shame, "I don't remember my phone number. Sorry."

"Oh no, don't worry about that. It takes a while for one to re-learn these things, when one moves and all. Your mother's name should be good enough. This is my office, so no one should bother you here. Please, make yourself comfortable."

Thompson motioned for her to take a seat before he left the room to converse with another officer. Seeing a rather plush, almost overstuffed beige comfort chair, Libby headed over and gladly welcomed the cushy support if offered her tired muscles. She closed her eyes, Okay…what is going on?

"Hey! Hey girl! What you doing here?"

Startled, Libby franticly searched the room for the source of the voice, finally eyeing it in the far corner of the room. A boy, older than her and of what appeared to be Hispanic descent, leaned against the wall while playing with an intricate switch-blade he held in his right hand. He wore old and torn jeans with a black leather jacket, a rather ornate accessory. His hair, jet black in color, was slightly bushy and curled over his forehead, accenting his sharp, dark eyes.

He smiled wickedly, causing the old fear to well up in her throat, "Hey, I asked you a question girl." The blade flicked menacingly.

Forcing herself to swallow the bitter fear, Libby timidly answered, "I…uh…was led here." She rubbed her hands over her knees, attempting to rub the sweat off which had accumulated on her palms.

"Oh yeah…by who?"

Libby hesitated for a moment, but just a moment, "Lt. Thompson."

The boy, the older teenager, spit a slew of curses, curses that would have curled the hair of a rank stable boy. "That son-of-a-bitch! That rat thinks he owns this town with his shiny badge and big gun," he continued once the irate cussing was over with. He flicked his blade once more, examining the newly sharpened edges, "Someone needs to teach him a lesson!"

"Oh, and I bet that'd be you, huh?"

Both Libby and the boy snapped their heads their right, taking in the sight of a girl clad from head-to-toe in black leather. Metal studs adorned her outfit and choker, giving the costume even more of a punkish demeanor. Around her neck, dangling below the skin-tight choker, hung an elaborate display of diamond-like stones, glistening in the light of the office. But what grabbed Libby's attention the most however, was the fact that this new girl's hair was spiked straight up, creating a very high and intimidating mohawk.

She gaped, open-mouthed at the newcomer. Who are these people? How did they get past the security and in here?

Grinding his teeth, the boy threatened, "Taryn, back the hell off…I found her first."

"And like it matters," Taryn spat back, "Remember, we're all on the same team here, Rod."

The boy, Rod, scratched his brow, showing Taryn a particular finger.

Taryn snorted, "Yourself."

"Enough you two!"

Libby jumped up from her seat as her third visitor, another boy, appeared right next to her seat.

"Whoa there honey, no means for alarm," he ran his hand through his dark, nearly black hair, causing the navy blue and black-striped overcoat to flap. "We're your friends," he defended while touching his burgundy and white undershirts. "Friends don't hurt each other."

"Oh blow it Rick," Rod shot, allowing his blade another flick in Rick's direction.

"Geesh, tense aren't ya?" countered Rick, rolling his eyes. "Pent up hormones," he whispered in Libby's ear.

"YOU ASS…"

"PLEASE! STOP IT!"

All three of the mysterious visitors turned in Libby's direction, staring at her as if she were crazy. What? Did I just grow another head? "Look, all I want to know is who you are, and how you got here?"

Taryn was the one who broke the ice, sort of, "Oh, great. Don't tell me she doesn't know yet?"

"That's how it appears," Rod growled, still staring daggers in Rick's direction.

"I don't understand," pleaded Libby, "know what?"

"Where is everyone?" Rick asked, turning in a tight circle. "What? They don't expect us to do it by ourselves, do they?"

"Who?" Libby breathed.

"Don't tell me you're afraid to go it alone, Johnson?" Rod sneered. "I thought you knew ka-rot-tay."

"Do what?"

"I wouldn't be talking if I were you Rod. If I had a blade your size, I'd be shakin' in my boots," grinned Rick.

"What…"

"Will you two boys knock it off!" cut in Taryn, clenching her fists in frustration.

"HEY! What are you's talking about!" yelled Libby, finally reaching her breaking point.

"WHAT IS GOING ON HERE!" The voice was booming, vibrating off the walls and thundering through their heads.

Turning, they all laid their eyes on Lt. Donald Thompson, fists clenched and eyes aflame in rage. His gaze darted from one intruder to the next, scanning their bodies as if assessing how much of a threat they posed.

Libby, afraid she had somehow betrayed the Lt.'s trust, attempted an explanation, "Sir, I…"

She never finished, for Taryn, who had moved next to her, clamped a hand over her shoulder. Diverting her gaze from Thompson to Taryn, Libby saw the warning in Taryn's eyes, "I wouldn't if I were you, sweetie."

"Why shouldn't she, Taryn? Please…let her explain?" the Lt. offered.

Libby stared at Thompson, noting with alarm that his voice was…strange. She couldn't quiet make it out, but the Lt.'s tone was somehow…otherworldly. She felt a shiver run from the bottom of her spine up into her neck, causing goose-bumps to appear over her fine skin. "How did you know her name?"

Rod leaned in close, allowing Libby to feel the tickle of his breath on her neck, "Get ready kid."

"For what," she questioned, throwing a hesitant look in his direction.

"For the fight of your life," Rick finished.

Libby watched, horrified as a malicious smile spread across the cops face. He crossed his arms and leaned against the doorframe, eyes burning holes into the four teens. When he spoke, ice coated every object within the room, "Do you really think you have a chance of beating me?"

"We know what is right, and we're willing to fight for it," Taryn declared, as she maneuvered herself directly in front of Libby, shielding the younger girl from the poisonous glare of the Lt. Without being told, both Rod and Rick fell in beside Taryn, forming a line of defense. They stood at attention, hands at the ready beside their hips.

"I beat you in life," Thompson sneered, "I can beat you in death. Remember children, this is my world."

Libby watched, frayed nerves unraveling even more as Taryn, Whipping her hands behind her back, withdrew two switchblades, holding them menacingly out towards Thompson, "We'll see about that."

Hearing a third switchblade flip into action, Libby could only assume that Rod had followed Taryn's lead and joined in on the threat. Her eyes jerked nervously between the set of the three turned backs, seeing nothing but tension woven into their ridged muscles.

"What in hell are you going to do?"

Not one of them answered.

"Are you crazy!" she squeaked, her voice high with tension, "He's a cop!"

"No," came Rick's voice, low and heavy with worry, "he's not."

In a flash of shiny black leather and glistening silver studs, Libby watched as Taryn pulled her arm back and yanked it forward again, propelling one of her blades straight at Thompson's throat. Twisting under Taryn's arm, Libby strained to get a better view. My God…their going to kill a cop!

The knife, as if in slow motion, soared through the air, turning end on end in a mid-air spiral. To Libby's horror, Lt. Thompson stood stalk still, not flinching as the knife inched its way closer to his windpipe. The realization that the Lt. was actually going to let himself get impaled, poured into her shaken mind.

The knife stopped. At first, Libby thought it had indeed imbedded itself into his flesh. But the lack of blood convinced her otherwise. She squinted, desperately trying to see across the room.

"Oh…my God," she breathed as her eyes widened in revolution. The blade, sharp and deadly, hovered inches from the Lt.'s skin, stopped in mid-air. The knife was still, as if it had instead stuck itself in some invisible barrier shielding the cop from harm.

Libby felt herself backing up, instinctively retreating from otherworldly sight. How is this happening? Her eyes, not being able to be convinced to look away from the impossible scene, glimpsed the Lt.'s smile grow wider as he reached up a hand and grabbed the hilt of the blade. He picked it up from nothing.

"You shouldn't have done that, Taryn," he mocked, twilling the knife. Without ceremony, he flung the knife back, hitting Taryn in the eye.

Libby screamed. Blood gushed everywhere, spilling from popped orb that used to be Taryn's right eye. Limp and lifeless, Taryn fell forward, collapsing in a heap in front of the frightened girl. Libby glued herself to the back wall, staring in shock at Taryn's body.

"YOU BASTARD!" Rod leapt forward, jerking his blade out and running towards Thompson, intending to cut the cops heart out. He never made it.

Thompson waited, patiently biding his time until Rod was in range, then slammed his arm into the vulnerable area of Rod's abdomen, sending jolts of pain riveting through his gut. Rod stumbled, gasping for breath as his stomach clinched shut. Placing his hands on either side of Rod's head, the Lt. snapped the boys head sharply to the left. A loud crack filled the air of the room as Rod's neck broke.

Rick turned towards Libby, "Get out of here!" His eyes met hers, seeing that she was paralyzed with fear. "Go now!" He only hoped his words would reach her, but for the moment, he had to deal with the rouge cop.

Channeling his chi, Rick started forward, cautiously evaluating his target. Thompson's eyes followed every movement Rick made, not allowing him an opportunity. Rick stopped advancing, only feet from the cop. Closing his eyes, Rick allowed the chi to flow into his limbs, giving it time to give him the power he needed. Thrusting his arms forward, Rick stretched his arms in the traditional preparation method.

The cop waited, his patience wearing thin as his opponent prepared himself before him. Thompson rolled his eyes, "Enough," he snapped, drawling his pistol from the leather holster strapped to his side. He pulled the trigger, sending a bullet plummeting into Rick's heart.

Rick teetered, eyes going blank as he stared, bewildered at the Lt. He fell, lifeless just like his two companions before him.

"Now, where were we?" Thompson question calmly, holstering his pistol and looking in Libby's direction. His eyes took in the sight of the terrified girl, shaking in uncontrollable fear. "Oh, yes…of course."

Trembling, Libby saw the cop move forward, heading straight for her as he carelessly stepped over the lifeless forms of Rod, Taryn and Rick. She looked into his eyes, seeing…nothing. It was as if he too was dead, for his eyes registered nothing; not anger or rage, not ruthlessness or madness, but were instead two lifeless orbs.

She shivered, staring into the nothingness that was his eyes. "Stay away from me," she quivered, sinking into herself and looking as small as possible. "Who are you! What have you done!"

"Libby, right?" he asked, though she sensed he didn't intend on her answering. "You have no idea who or what I am, do you? Well…that's alright, for you will…soon enough." He stopped his approach and raised his right hand, holding it out in front of him so she could get a good look. "I believe we'll have a great time together, darling."

As Libby watched, she witnessed Thompson's hand beginning to change. His finger nails began to grow, slowly at first, but then more rapidly. Blood oozed from his finger tips and flowed freely down the lengthening nails, which had begun to change to a shiny, metallic color. The skin around his upper hand and palm, as well as his wrist, hardened and browned, as if it were leather. In mere seconds, the metamorphosis was complete, and the once normal, kind small town cop, stood before her with a bloody, and demonic clawed like glove.

He grinned, stepping forward and clinking the metal knives together in an attempt to intimidate her. It was working.

Survival kicked in at the last moment and Libby heaved herself from the floor, dashing to her right. All she knew was that she had to escape any way she could. Seeing a door down along the wall, she sprinted towards it, all too aware of the knives slashing the air inches behind her retreating back. She reached the doorknob, turned it, and threw the door open, adrenalin pumping through her ears.

Air rushed past her face as the door flew by; air filled with the smells of the wild; wet and earthy. Forcing her eyes into focus, she was met with the sight of a forest, a forest exactly like the one she had just left before. There, standing just inches from her, a white wolf growled, staring her down, challenging her.

She screamed, flinging herself backwards away from the wild animal. She didn't care how it had gotten here; she only thought about how to escape it again. Seeing the door that led from Thompson's office to the rest of the police station, she lunged for it.

An obstacle blocked her path, an obstacle made of flesh and clothing; the clothing of a cop. Libby tried to stop, but she was moving too fast. At a breakneck speed, she collided with Donald Thompson, feeling him wrap his arms around her, trapping her like an animal. She struggled, twisting and jerking herself back and forth in an attempt to break his hold on her, but he was too strong; his grip was iron.

"LET GO OF ME! LET ME GO!"

Not responding to her screams, Thompson threw Libby to the ground, grinning in satisfaction as she whimpered in pain as her shoulder smashed into the solid floor. She tried to get up, feebishly attempting to gather her feet under her and stand. Pain exploded in her chest as he rammed his foot into her, pinning her to the ground.

Shifting most of his weight to the leg that wasn't holding her down, Thompson lowered himself down to her, ignoring her attempts to shove his foot off of her. He raised his bladed hand, bringing it up to her face, allowing her to imagination to run wild.

This is it. I'm dead. Her eyes followed the blade ends as they lowered to her forehead. With more force than she could ever have imagined, he thrust his blades into her head, shoving them deep within her mind.

Her body was on fire; every inch blistered and peeled with heat, with invisible flame. A white light, filled with the spirits of hundreds of souls, clouded her vision, before turning into a fiery red, melting her eyes into liquid.

A voice, raspy and rough, filled her head, laughing at her overwhelming pain. It was then that she felt it; a sense that she wasn't alone, wasn't alone in her body. A force, black and chalky with evil, flowed through her veins, infecting her. She tried to fight, but the force was too powerful, too strong and too suffocating.

Throwing her head back, she screamed, but it wasn't her voice that filled her ears.

"George, is she okay? What's wrong?

Swallowing, George tried once again to feel the girl's pulse. He searched for several seconds, before finally giving up. Shit! Turning slowly towards his wife, he uttered the words he dreaded saying, "Bettie…she's dead."

The cool, night air filled with an ominous scream. George reeled back, horrified at the devilish sound.

Trees shook, water in nearby ponds and pools iced over, and birds fell dead from the sky. The world trembled as Freddy Krueger vented rage and pain.

End. Well not really of course. Several more chaps. coming. Hope you all enjoyed and I'll be working on ch. 7 in-between classes in college! YIPEEE! (But only if I don't have college stuff to do. School work is important!) Don't worry, I wont forget my readers!