Hallow there, lovelies!

Let's get ready to RUMBLE!

I just had to ^^ :D

But seriously, this is where things get interesting (i.e. Jack Frost and Friends make a more permanent appearance ;)).

You know what, you three that reviewed my WIP? Thank you. Like, seriously. I don't know you, but I'd like to! It's really nice for me to know that my obsession isn't a waste of time, like people may actually enjoy what I'm writing. It's kind of a vulnerable thing for me to put out there. It's my baby. And I'm so glad you enjoyed it. You just made it to the top of "The People DoubtfulFig Likes".

If you'd like to join said people who reviewed my baby, just R&R! :D

So, yeah, sit back, chillax, and... Yeah.

DFTBA,

doubtfulfig

P.S. OH YEAH, I'M AHEAD OF SCHEDULE! So you *might* be getting another chapter today! Yay! Ok, I'll stop yapping, now.

I wasn't even awake when it happened. I mean, it woke me up, but I didn't realize what had happened until I hobbled around in a haze, after the bus driver screamed and the crunch of metal and the mind-bending jerk and weightlessness and then the ground skidding beneath me. I didn't piece it all together until I stood upright, squinting in the dark at the strewn shapes across the snow: some jagged hunks of metal, some chairs free from the floor of the bus, which lay overturned on its side, roof ripped open. Some of the shapes were shaky outlines of crumpled and weeping people. Cars passing on the highway cast momentary light on the disaster, casting shadows that slunk across the snow.

The back of my nose burned, and my brain felt like it had major bruising from slamming into the forehead of my skull. I rubbed it ruefully, trying to clear some of the stars that shone behind my eyelids. "Emmett!" I called, but my voice was shaky, so I tried again, louder this time. I checked over my body, but everything seemed to be moving alright. Everything was just numb. Buzzing with disbelief or shock or something. But nothing was broken or bleeding.

"Will!" The little voice came from my left, from under something, and I was stumbling toward it when another mangled cry reached my ears, desperation ringing high and clear: "Willow, help! I'm stuck!"

"It's ok, buddy, I'm right here." I knelt beside the darkened outline of an object. A passing car exposed it in its headlights as our two seats, sitting there like a demented loveseat, then the light moved away. Another car revealed my duffel bag laying next to it, ripped open slightly, and Snowfie and Emmett's backpack poking from between the crack between the two butt cushions.

"No no, come on, Emmett," I said quickly as I heard his breathing hasten. I could hear the tears bubbling up his throat in little whimpers. I crouched down, pushing a hand under the metal skeleton, but I couldn't see a damn thing under there. "You're breathing ok?"

"Mhm," he sniffed.

"Anything hurt?"

"My leg."

I blanched. "Is it twisted?"

"I don't know." Another sniff. "I think it's kind of crushed."

My heart slowed, but I tried to think past it. "But your head and your chest are ok?"

"Yeah."

The whooshing sound of the cars rushing by didn't seem to be the most appropriate soundtrack for this situation. It made me agitated. Like at any moment, they could go careening off the side of the road and into us. Wouldn't that be lovely? Just peachy.

"I'll get you out, Em, hold on," I murmured, pulling myself back up. I tried to topple it over to its side, but Emmett's whimpers morphed quickly into a scream, so I dropped it back down again as gently as I could.

He was sobbing now. Dread was crawling up my own throat, but I didn't want Emmett to know that. I swallowed it down, dropped to the ground again, then asked, "Was it your leg?"

The rustle of hair against snow. I guessed that he nodded. Then a quick intake of air. "Willow, something's got me."

"Nothing's got you, Emmett," I laid my head against the ground, thinking as fast as I could.

"Willow," his voice cracked with panic.

When the hell would the ambulance get here? "It's just numb, Em, you're letting your imagination get the best of you."

"Something's moving!" he sobbed. Like his poor little head couldn't take much more of this crap. He was so close to cracking.

"It's gonna be ok, buddy!" I murmured as quickly and reassuringly as I could. "It's nothing bad, it's just a… a mouse!" Yeah, a mouse. Good choice, Willow.

"A mouse?"

"Yeah," I said, nodding, falling into the groove of my line of thought. "A mouse. Like Jaq and Gus, bustling around to help Cinderella. All right? They're gonna help you get out."

"Ok," he mumbled shakily, but I could tell he didn't really believe me. Neither did I, for that matter. But I was glad my explanation calmed him down a bit, and slightly relieved that I could come up with something. I threw on a smile, just in case Emmett could see me. "They're gonna help us."

Wrong.

That voice. The slick one, the one that invaded my head when I… When Jason attacked. It slid through my head, just a split second before Emmett's piercing scream.

"Emmett!" It tore through my throat, but it didn't catch him. His screech echoed and faded, like he was falling down a hole, accompanied by frantic scratching and incoherent wailing words, and then there was nothing. Nothing but the crisp breeze and the hissing of highway-bound cars.

Before I could guess what the hell had just happened, another murmur swirled around my head uncomfortably: Care to join our party?

A strangled cry escaped my lips as the ground beneath my elbows fell in on itself, opening a gaping black hole. My upper body jerked downward, arms dangling into pitch darkness. I dug my toes into the snow, but I didn't get a good enough purchase to resist the pull of gravity. I slid forward and fell, bumping against the edges of the tunnel, and darkness seeped into my mind, pulling me out of consciousness.