AN: Alright folks! First things first. I am making this as close to history as possible. It'll be AU SwanQueen. I will research everything to get it as close as I possibly can to when werewolves and vampires first existed. I will also put my own little twist on it. For example. According to google, the longest a werewolf has ever lived was a little over 2300 years. And they are not exactly immortal but they do not age the same way humans do. So in order for this to work, Emma will be younger then 2300 years. And she only ages every 36 years. So as of now, shes about 25. Give or take. 36 years for us is 1 year for her. I hope that makes sense. So if I calculated right. She was born on October 23rd in the enchanted era time. Which was the 12th century. And in the story it begins around 2013. That is about 900 years. So Emma Swan has been alive for 900 years and shes only 25 years old in modern time. Please tell me I explained this right because this will not be in the story. I won't waist time explaining the age. I just want it to make sense so when you guys read ahead you're all not like; "The fuck? What the hell is this nonsense!?" And for future questions. No she's not a vampire hybrid. She can and will eventually die. But not till in the near future because obviously I made her somewhat immortal in my story. Enough to be able to be with our lovely Queen. And that's the twist I put on it. Because hey, its AU and fiction, meaning anything can happen. So, here is the first chapter. I hope you enjoy. If you all don't think it should be taken off and more should be added, let me know now before I start on chapter 2. (I kind of already did. But let me know anyways so I don't post it.) Okay. I shall shut the hell up so you can read this.

10th day before Kalends of November (Tuesday, October 23rd year 1190)

Small little lights flickered in the dark sky, a full moon set high and bright. Red and yellow leaves littered the ground from previously fallen off trees that made up the Enchanted Forest. Bone chilling winds whistled through the night as foot steps could be heard in the distance.

"Emma!!"

The owner of the steps called out loudly. She was scared and wanted to go back to the castle where her friends were.

"Emma please, I want to go home. It is cold," as if on cue, the wind blew past her and made her body tremble.

"Sarah!"

The little girl, just turned 7 that same day, turned around but found no one. That was her sisters voice, she just knew it was.

"Emma…" she said in total fear. Someone else was out here with her. She should have listened to her mothers warnings. She should have let Emma go on her own but she loved her twin far too much. A low growl could be heard in the trees near her and instantly she knew it wasn't her sister that spoke. No it was someone else. Something else. "…..Emma?" she whispered. Taking a step back, her little boot snapped a twig and with in seconds the being following her jumped out.

"Aaaaaaaahhhhhhhh!!!!"

Emma heard the shrill scream a few miles away. She had been hiding from her sister in a stupid attempt at hide and seek in the middle of the night. It curdled her blood as she stood. "Sarah?" she gasped before running towards the sound. She came to a stop at the sight before her. Black as night fur flowed in the wind as the sounds of bones snapping and flesh being torn into filled her ears. Her sister's blue eyes were glazed over and filled with tears as she laid there, lifeless. Blood falling down the sides of her mouth and nose. Her right leg was twisted behind her and her left arm was bent in a way that shouldn't have been humanly possible to do. Her blonde hair matted with her blood and the creatures saliva.

Emma fell to her knees with a soft thud and the sound caused the fur to bristle then a massive head lifted, showing bright red glowing eyes. It was a wolf. The mouth had fresh warm blood seeping between it's teeth as the steam bellowed off its snout. It snarled sickingly. Then it began to stand on it's hind legs. Wolves don't stand. Emma thought to herself. She was frozen to the point that her body wouldn't move. Frozen to the bone from the cold and the pure fear she felt.

The creature walked closer to her, slowly. Snapping it's teeth at her and stretching out it's claws. Again, she couldn't move an inch. She could only feel the hot wet tears fall down her cheeks. And just as the creature stood mere inches from her face she closes her eyes. The next time she opened them she was on the ground next to her sister. Red hot pain searing through her body from something that had bitten her on the side of her stomach. Emma felt weak, too weak to move so she turned her head to see her sister's terror stricken face. Her heart sank to her stomach and new tears fell down her cheeks.

"Sarah…." She choked on a job. "…..I'm so sorry,"

In the distance a loud howl could be heard.

Storybrooke, Maine October 23rd 2013 2:30 a.m.

Gasping for air, the woman shot up from her bed. Her face covered in a cold sweat that glistened from the full moons rays shining through her window. Sweat soaked sheets sticking to her body that had been radiating off massive waves of heat the moment she began to dream. A dream. That's all it had been as a shaky hand slipped between blonde locks and being pulled from her neck. She looked over to see the time and growled. Same dream. Same time. Every year. On the same day. This time it showed her deceased sister and how mangled she had been that fateful night.

Slipping out of her bed. The woman walked into her bathroom with a slight wobble to her step and shut the door behind her. She sat on the toilet to release her bladder. Sea green eyes closed slowly and her body began to relax. The sound of a flushed toilet brought her back as she wiped then stood. Washing her hands in cold water, she splashed some on her still sweat face. The knobs on the sink squeaked when she turned them off. Drip. Drip. She heard the sound of water mixed sweat dripping from her face while she held herself against the edge of the sink. It's been years. Decades. Even century's since that night. So far away yet still felt like it had just happened that night.

Growling, Emma looked up at the mirror, her green eyes now a neon red. "That fucking wolf," she pushed away from the sink and walked back into her room where she decided against sleep. After having that dream she always had trouble sleeping so she gave up after the first few hundred years of trying. Now she does the same thing. Gets dressed. Locks her apartment up and goes out for the rest of the night. Mostly she tried to get drunk but the demon inside of her always burned the alcohol away so she just gave up and drank whatever tasted good to her.

The lights to a local bar she went to for the last few years flashed brightly under the full moon. She ignored the urge to shift and walked inside from the cold. Her red leather jacket tightly wrapped around her body as she sat at the bar and waited for the bartender. He was a burly man, almost reminded her of a grizzly bear.

"Ah, Miss Swan. I assume you would want the usual?" he asked in a gruff voice. He enjoyed the woman's company. She always knew things that others didn't and it intrigued him. She was pulling her hair into a pony tail when he approached. After settling her arms down in front of her she nodded.

"Always do Tobi,"

He hummed, his smile matched his dark brown eyes, as he kneeled below the counter to grab a fresh brand new bottle of Delmore. Emma picked the bottle up to examine it.

"Delmore Trinitas. 64 years aged." She read aloud and twisted the top off. Grabbing the glass next to the bottle, she poured a generous amount to taste test it. Instantly her body warmed from the inside. "Hm, yeah that hits the spot,"

"That shit was highly expensive, so you better appreciate it runt," Tobi stated. "And happy birthday, it's on the house,"

Emma beamed at him then leaned over the counter.

"Hey! How many times have I told you not to do that?" Tobi growled at her. Emma pulled back with a freshly cleaned glass and began to pour a second one.

"How many times have I ignored you?" she retorted and handed him the glass. Pouring herself another, they clanked glasses together and both downed the amber colored liquor.

Portland, Maine October 23rd 2013 3:00 a.m.

The street was deserted as a single man walked down the cobble stoned sidewalk. Hands pushed deeply in his pockets, his steps deliberate and slow. Curly blonde hair fell in front of his face as a mist of rain coated his skin. Pulling his hand from his jacket pocket, he placed a cigarette between his lips and lit it. The tip glowed a bright orange as he inhaled before blowing the smoke through his nose. His hands jammed back into his pockets.

The feeling of someone watching him caused the man to turn around and look over his shoulder; no one was there. He was all alone. His head lowered in his jacket and he quickened his steps to try and get home faster. He never touched the cig as he continued to smoke from it, too lazy to hold it. His yellowed teeth bit the butt to move it around before his lips pressed around it again and he inhaled. A few moments later he looked back again and still nothing. No one was there but a second set of footsteps caused him to walk a bit faster, almost jogging. He slowly turned his head back around only to spot a shadow outline of a figure.

"Whoa…" he came to a stop a few inches away and ended up slipping from the wet ground. Landing on his ass he looked up at the looming figure of the guy. He swallowed thickly and gave him a trembling smile. "….y-you scared me." The cig half smoked so he pulled it from his mouth.

The figure smiled. You couldn't really see much of his face but you could see his pure white teeth. The canines were visibly sharp. "Oh no, that's okay," his voice wavered a bit. Smoke flowed from the cancer stick and up to the figure, whose nose wrinkled at the awful smell and a low growl left his lips. "Smoking those things make you taste like an ashtray,"

"W-What?" the man pushed back some of his wet hair to try and see better but with the street light shining down behind the figure all he could see was teeth. His hand holding the almost out cig shook. The man tossed it aside and picked himself up. "I'm sorry if the smell offends you," he stated.

Again, the figure smiled but this time didn't say a thing. He took a step forward, reached a hand out and gripped the man by his throat. To which the man began to gasp for air, his feet being lifted off the ground as the figure held him above his head. The man's green eyes showed fear, his hands smacking at the figure's arm to be let go. The figure squeezed and his nails, sharp as claws, dug into the young mans throat, blood dribbling out of the wounds.

"L-Let me go!" he gasped out. The figure lifted his head and the man knew he was a goner. Crimson red eyes could be seen in the light of the street lamp they were under. The figure opened his mouth and his teeth sharpened all at once before they sunk into the chest of the man. He was dead in an instant. The figure let him drop before feasting on his body, pulling on arteries and intestines. The speed the figure possessed as he ate was blinding and in the blink of an eye he was done with the male. The mans heart was pulled from his mangled body as the figure stood.

"Such vile taste," the figure wiped his mouth off and looked at the victim, "Disgusting street rat, doesn't know when to stop while he isn't even ahead," before walking away from the mutilated man and disappearing into the early morning.

AN-2: Okay, here is the deal. I have no idea where this will go. I wanted to try my hand at something new. It'll be a slow burn. And it will take me a few days in between each chapter if I want this story to turn out somewhat perfect. Like I said before, if you don't think this should be continued then please tell me now. But if you do want to see where it goes, for the future readers, if you don't like it, please don't read this. Because I do not have time for rude ass idiots who would rather comment stupid bull-crap on my story instead of getting a life and writing their own. Obviously you came to read a story that sounds interesting. But there is no need to nit pick at the things YOU don't like.

As for the ones who leave wonderful comments about how great the story is. I salute you. You came here to enjoy something I wrote. And to the ones who call me on big issues that I messed up on, thank you. I always try to fix my mistakes. Thank you for telling me what I did wrong rather then telling me how you don't like the story because its not how YOU wanted it written. I encourage criticism whole-heartedly. Not assholes who wants to find anything and everything to bitch about.

Now, after I have laid down the ground rules. I will leave you to it. This may potentially be my baby for a while so treat it kindly.

Enjoy! ~