The next scene starts in the same place where we just left off; right in the heart of busy Manhattan. Now, it's the year nineteen ninety six, and it's Halloween yet again. It's quite the same scenario, but at the same time, very different. Let me take you away from the street corner where we met young Sophia Evanson down the street a few blocks to a nightclub, most generally meant for those who were over the age of eighteen. Our next character, however, is not one who usually goes by the rules, and the one about being over eighteen to enter this nightclub is no different.

We now meet seventeen year old Bridgette Wilson, a green-eyed, dark brown and bouncy curl haired girl who might as well had been born to party. On this Halloween night, we find her dressed in light blue, hip hugger jeans, an almost too small black tank top and her waist length hair flowing around her shoulders. She's wearing way too much eyeliner and shiny pink lip gloss, making her look at least three years older. She's waiting in line to be admitted into this nightclub without any of her usual friends, but she's sure to meet plenty of people tonight.

"I.D.?" the bulky man at the front door to the club said gruffly to her, looking at her over his black sunglasses. She flashed him a bright smile and dug around in her purse.

"Here ya go." she said, flashing him a card that if he took more than a few seconds to inspect he would find was fake.

"Thank you, miss. Go ahead in." he said, and she walked past him into the room filled with flashing lights. The music was already making her heart vibrate in her chest, and she danced her way over to the bar.

"Hey," she said, pounding her fist on the counter. The bartender came over to her. "I'm just gonna have a Sprite tonight; I gotta drive myself home." she smiled flirtatiously, lying through her teeth. She didn't drink, but she didn't want to seem weak. "And throw a couple cherries in at the bottom." she yelled over the music. She spun around in her stool to people watch as she waited for her drink. Nothing out of the ordinary, she concluded after a minute or so. There were a few good looking guys, but all the really hot ones were already dancing close to other girls. Then she saw someone standing against the back wall, nodding his head along to the music, but avoiding dancing and people all together. And he was one of the most good looking guys in the whole room! Bridgette decided she would go up to him once she got her drink. She took it from the bartender once it came and paid for it, flashing him one more smile. She took a sip before hopping down from her stool.

She walked confidently over to the guy by the wall, keeping her bright smile and the wicked look in her eye the whole time.

"Waiting for someone?" she asked, yelling over the loud thumping of the music. He looked at her in shock that someone had spoken to him. He saw her and grinned.

"Yeah, I think I found her." he said. She looked at him in fake interest, even though she knew he was talking about her.

"Oh yeah? Who is she?" she asked, pretending to look around.

"My next girlfriend." he said smoothly. She laughed at the lame pick up line.

"Oh...what's she look like?" she asked, playing along.

"Long, beautiful brown hair, shining green eyes, a smile that would stop traffic, rockin' body, the works." he said casually, checking her out.

"She sounds pretty." Bridgette said. "What's her personality like?"

"I don't know yet, but I intend to find out soon." he smiled. She did, too.

"What's her name?" she asked.

"You tell me." he said, raising an eyebrow and smiling still. She laughed.

"Bridgette." she said.

"Bridgette." he repeated. "Yeah, sounds about right. I'm Peter." he said. "You wanna dance?" She grinned and took his hand, letting him spin her on to the dance floor. She set her drink down on a nearby table and took his other hand in hers.

"You're so cold." she observed as he held her closer. They started to dance to the medium paced song.

"Maybe you're just warm." he said insightfully, making her giggle.

"Maybe." She murmured.

"Hey, what are we doing here, anyway? You doing anything tonight?" he asked her.

"What do you have in mind?" Bridgette asked, a ghost of a smile on her lips.

"I know a great place we can talk…that is, if you're up to it." He said.

"I'm up for anything." Bridgette grinned wickedly. She took his hand and followed him out a back door surrounded by a brick wall. "So where are we going?" she asked.

"You'll see." He said. "But first…" he pulled her closer to him and kissed her forehead. She shuddered at the cold and let him kiss his way down her face, from her nose, down to her lips. He paused for a moment there, letting Bridgette enjoy this while she could. He moved his way down her neck and found the pulse in her throat. He had to try his hardest to let her live for just a minute more.

"Are you nervous?" he asked her quietly, kissing the little spot on her neck that fluttered a mile a minute.

"A little." Bridgette managed, but lifted her head back further anyway. 'So naive,' Peter thought. Just like the rest…but somehow different. He had a soft spot for this one, too, and soft spots only happened for Peter once in a blue moon. 'Man,' he thought. 'She's going to be beautiful if she makes it through this alive. She would be anyway, but more than any of the others.' He kissed the pulse one more time before scraping his teeth across it, careful not to draw blood yet.

Bridgette squeaked at the shocking new feel of his teeth on her neck, but he didn't let that stop him. He sank his teeth skillfully into the pulse and she gave a piercing scream, but the pounding music inside and the rush of cars from the street was too loud and the sound barely stuck out. Her eyes rolled into the back of her head, making the green iris no longer visible. Peter was only too used to this, and he had trained himself to pull away when his victim's lives were on barely a thread. This was only his second Manhattan kill, or whatever you want to call it. He took her over his shoulder and headed for the trees once more, moving again at lightning speed. He would find James and then they would relocate to a remote area of southern Alaska from their original location in Canada. This would be Peter's last east coast change, and he hoped it would be his last ever. He hated killing, but in his world, James' word was law, and if you didn't abide by it, you got the death sentence…or worse. Peter shuddered at the thought of what might happen to him if he didn't follow orders.