Sorry for delay in all of my stories. Someone I went to high school with passed away a week and a half ago so I've had a bit of writer's block. Starting to come back around. :) And it's a snow day.

"He had a hook, Emmett. A great big hook." Rosalie sighed and Emmett wrapped his arms around her. The two of them stood backstage at the Croaker Queen Pageant and he kissed her on the cheek.

"I'm not going to let anything happen to you," he assured her.

Rosalie shook her head and stared at him as he released her.

"I'll be up in the balcony again," Emmett said, rubbing down her arm. "Then we'll get out of here and find Esme and Carlisle."

She nodded and then glanced toward the stage as her name was called.

"Will last year's queen Rosalie Hale please come forward to the stage, please!" a loud, male voice bellowed.

Rosalie looked at Emmett and he leaned in and gave her a kiss. "You'll be fine," he whispered, taking an extra moment with her before she headed out onto the stage and he left to go up into the empty balcony above where everyone else sat.

The lights dimmed and everyone clapped as Rosalie put on her best fake smile and waved to the crowd.

"Isn't she beautiful?" the host asked, grinning wide as he escorted her to a chair in the corner of the stage.

Rosalie said down and crossed one leg over the other, sporting the crown that would only be hers for another few hour or so. The lights shining in her direction were bright, and while it took her a moment to see, she squinted and saw Emmett's silhouette as he found a permanent spot in the balcony.

She relaxed and smiled to herself before turning her attention to the contestants that had begun to parade on stage in their bathing suits.

Flashbacks from the year before entered her mind, and she remembered feeling as carefree as the young ladies looked as they competed to be crowned the most beautiful girl in the area.

That wasn't her reality anymore. It was quite the opposite actually. The typical stresses of a nineteen year old would have been plenty to handle, never mind running somebody over with your car, throwing their body in the ocean and then being stalked by some madman for it one year later.

Rosalie tried to focus on the young girl who took over the stage, but she couldn't. All she could think about was who it was that was lurking in the shadows and where he was now. Surely he knew that her and Emmett were at the pageant. He had to.

Is he here now? she thought. Is he in the crowd?

The thought made her anxious until the busty blonde on stage hit a high note that didn't sound quite right. Rosalie tried to suppress a look of disapproval and keep smiling, but she felt her face slowly drop into a frown.

She glanced up toward the balcony again when the lights shifted to match the young woman's movements and she felt comfort in seeing Emmett's support. He leaned over the railing with his arms folded and rested his hand his forearms.

Rosalie wanted to get off the stage and go join him. She wished they could just run away like Carlisle had suggested earlier, but she knew it wouldn't solve anything. They would come back and the man would be waiting for them; that or he would simply follow them out of town. There was no escape from the problems the four of them had created for themselves.

The balcony was dark, though in the background Rosalie saw movement. Emmett still had his arms lazily folded across the banister and didn't see to notice anything.

She squinted, trying to see if it was just her eyes playing tricks on her.

What is that... Rosalie peered into the darkness, and that's when she got the full picture. A tall, dark figure lurked just behind where Emmett stood, and it wasn't until he was throwing his arm around Emmett's neck that Rosalie saw the slicker and the hook in his hand.

"Emmett!" she shrieked, standing up out of the chair, making it fall backwards on the stage.

Everyone stopped what they were doing as Emmett was taken to the ground by the stranger. In the lighting Rosalie could only see shadows, recognizing the man's arm coming down again and again and again.

Up in the balcony there was nothing Emmett could have done. He was ambushed and taken down. The large fisherman's hook connected with his midsection, making him cry out in pain each time it pierced his body until finally he laid still and the madman scooped his body up and carried him down a back flight of stairs that led to a back door.

The host rushed over to Rosalie, who still cried frantically and pointed up into the balcony.

"Miss! What is going on!" A police officer that was monitoring the event ran up to where she stood.

"He's killing him!" she screamed.

"Who? Who's killing who?"

"Up in the balcony!"

Members of the crowd stared wildly at one another, looking in all directions as the host regained the microphone and tried to keep them under control.

"I'm sorry about that folks," he said with a laugh, and then continued to gather their attention back to the contestants.

Rosalie lead the police officer to a stairwell that she knew led upstairs from inside.

"Let me go first," he told her, reaching for his weapon while clicking on a flashlight.

She carefully made her way up a step behind him and when they got into the big square that made up the room that overlooked the place there was nothing.

He checked every corner of the place and glanced out a small window in the back before turning back to Rosalie. "There's nobody up here."

Tears decorated her cheeks, but she stood calmly. "I saw it happen. He killed Emmett."

"Who killed Emmett?" the officer asked, "And Emmett who? Who are we even talking about?"

Rosalie couldn't reply. She was full of anger, shock and fear. She didn't want to move; she couldn't move.

"Let me take you home," the man offered. "We'll call your parents, tell them you're with me and you can get a good night's sleep."

She continued to stand perfectly still, glancing around the vacant balcony area.

"Come on." The officer urged her to return to the first level before taking her back stage to get her things.

"Oh, um..." The host entered and regretfully reached a hand out. "We'll be needing the crown," he said quietly.

Rosalie stared at him for a moment and then removed the cheap headpiece from the way it was entangled in her hair before following the police officer to his cruiser, telling him only the part of the story about the fisherman who was stalking her and Emmett. She claimed she had no idea who he was or why he was harassing them but insisted he was dangerous, even filling him in about the man breaking into her house and cutting off her hair.

The officer quickly got her mother on the phone and Rosalie had a short conversation before he took off down Main Street.

She said quietly in the back seat, still crying silently as she thought about Emmett.

"So, you said he killed Emmett with a hook?"

"Yes," Rosalie replied quietly.

"Was this the same hook he used to cut your hair?"

She hardened her features for the first time and felt the anger take over. "No, he used scissors asshole!"

The officer glanced at her in the rear view mirror without acknowledging the insult. "Did you ever think that maybe Emmett is playing a prank on you?"

Rosalie sat up, feeling her temper flare. "Look there has been a murder!" she screamed, "And you're going to fry in hell if you ignore it!" Tears streaked down her face and when the officer blew off her claims again she slammed her back against the seat.

He turned his cruiser down a side road and then sighed as there was a car that had broken down on the side of the road.

"Damn it," he cursed, "I have to stop and see if this guy needs help. I'll just be a minute and then I'll get you home."

Rosalie didn't care. She could see the man hadn't taken her story seriously and watched as he got out of the car and closed the door behind him.

Paranoia took over and she watched as he approached the vehicle, which sat off to the side with its hood propped open. A man leaned over the car's engine and right away Rosalie knew something wasn't right.

"No," she whispered to herself. "No!" she screamed and sat up, slamming her hands against the gate that separated the front seat from the back. "That's him! That's him!"

The police officer turned to face her, squinting his eyes.

"That's the guy!" Rosalie continued to shout as loudly and frantically as she could. "Turn back around! Behind you! Behind you!"

He shook his head and turned in time to feel a pain shoot up into his abdomen. His eyes landed on a man in a fisherman's slicker and hat, though he could barely make out his features from beneath the facade.

When he looked down, the hook had completely disappeared in his midsection, and blood began to pour from the wound.

The menacing fisherman pulled his arm upward, sending blood from the officer's mouth. A moment later and collapsed to the pavement, and the fisherman removed the giant hook from his body.

Panic set in and Rosalie began to pull at the door handles and pound at the windows. The fisherman took his time, noting it was a police car and getting out of it was far more difficult than getting in.

Rosalie pounded at all side of the vehicle's interior and finally laid on her back, using her feet to frantically kick at the windows until one of he heels finally sent a spiderweb crack through the one on the passenger's side. Hope filled her body and survival instincts kicked in as she continued to kick away at the glass until most of it fell out and she could wriggle her tiny body through the opening.

The fisherman continued to pace toward the car, and Rosalie narrowly escaped, now running through the empty streets in her heels.

She looked over her shoulder as the stranger closed in on her.

He's going to kill me, she thought. He's going to kill me.

Rosalie looked back over her shoulder and move as fast as she possibly could through the town green toward a series of shops. There were two with their lights still on, and the store to the left was the one her family owned - Shivers.

Elsa! Her legs moved faster and Rosalie prayed she wouldn't fall. One false move would cost her her life. She could practically feel the stalker breathing on her neck, but she knew he wasn't that close.

"Elsa!" Rosalie hollered as loud as she possibly cold. As she closed in on the store she could see her sister through the windows moving back and forth from the register, to shelves and side to side. "Elsa!" she screamed again and then felt both relief and anxiety as she approached the door, slamming both of her hands against the glass as she tried to fling open the locked door.

Elsa jumped and then took a deep breath and gave Rosalie an annoyed look when she realized it was just her sister.

"Elsa open the door!" Rosalie pleaded, continuing the slam her palms against the glass and jiggle the handle. "Elsa!"

She walked slowly toward the door, refusing the rush despite the hysterical state of her sister. "I'm coming," she said dryly.

"Hurry up Elsa!" Rosalie could practically feel the man's hand land on her shoulder and the piercing feel of the hook as it sliced through her. She grew more belligerent and slammed her hands harder, feeling a sense of horror as Elsa turned around and began walking the other way. "Elsa, what are you doing!?"

Elsa casually reached for a set of keys from the counter and fiddled with them before finding the correct one and then proceeded to open the door.

"What is going-" she began but Rosalie cut her off as she rushed inside and hurried to relock the door behind her.

"I'm being attacked!"

"You're what?" Elsa asked.

The two of them looked out the series of glass windows but no one was in the immediate area.

"Get on the phone and call the police," Rosalie ordered. When Elsa began to protest she raised her voice. "Just do what I say dammit!"

Elsa felt spooked by her sister's tone and then looked at her. "Rosalie, the back door is unlocked."