Where am I? I think, as I blink and look around. Everything’s black, like there isn’t any light in the world. I slowly sit up, my hands firm on the soft, fuzzy ground. Soft and fuzzy? Why is the ground soft and fuzzy? I think frantically, then, Light! I need light. I dig through my coat pockets and pull out a half eaten chocolate bar, some fuzz, and a dime. Gross, why’s there a chocolate bar in here? I hate chocolate. Wait, where’s my phone? It was in there earlier, right before the accident. Oh, right the accident. Did Dad come? Am I in a coma?

“No, my sweet! You’re perfectly safe. This is our world,” a voice with sweet German accent coos.

“Who’s there?” I yell into the darkness. I’ve never felt so disoriented before, never so panicky.


“Do you feel uncomfortable? Would you prefer light? I know this sounds cliché, but I mean you know harm.”

“Ohh, noo. I like being disoriented lying on something fuzzy with the lights off, and a random voice coming out of nowhere,” I say dryly.
“I see you still have that dry sarcastic humour as before,” the voice snorts.
Hmmm, I think, German accent, someone from my past. Before the accident I saw Sven…
“Sven!” I yell as I jump up, “where are you? What are you doing here? Am I dead?” I spin in circles, looking around hoping to see him walk out of the darkness. “I’d like light please,” I say as I stop turning.
“As you wish,” he says, then claps his hands twice. Nowhere turned to somewhere; a cute little Victorian bedroom. A white dresser with a marble top and mirror, with a matching elegant king sized bed. A crystal chandelier with electric candles, and the softest microfiber carpet that totally clashes with the whole elegant look.
The room looks like it should be bigger, but the other half is covered in darkness, like there’s a secret there I’m not allowed to know about.


“I take you like, no?” Sven says as he casually leans against door.


The last time I saw him we were both 10, and he was locked in a burning building with his crazy father. The Council said there were no survivors, but that can’t be true since Sven is standing in front of me. Though, I must say, after all these years he still looks good. His bleach blond hair and light ocean blue eyes that look like glass. He has a good posture, and a nice figure, with his black skinny jeans, grey hoodie half zipped to reveal a white shirt under it, and his hood down.

“Where are we?” I ask, not bothering to wipe the stupid grin off my face.

“We are in what I like to call Locus Somnia. That’s Latin for ‘The Place of Dreams’. It’s a state of unconsciousness when you’re in complete bliss.”

“So you really are dead?” I ask in complete disappointment. I’ve never felt so sad in my life. Not even my dad disappearing brought me down this much. Sven was my best friend, when I saw him in the burning building I felt like I was dying inside. That incident burned all my good memories of us together, and now whenever I think of Sven, I think of his terrified face and his dad pulls him by the hair back into the fire. A sob escapes my lips as I turn away from him.

“No, I’m not dead. I’m actually very close; I’ve been looking everywhere for you for the past 3 years. It took me a while to find you, but once I did I was so happy. Remember what happened in the car? Well-” he was cut off by the walls of the room shaking.

“Huh?” was all I could muster .

“You’re waking up! Look, just get your mom to let you go the academy! I’ll find a way there; I’ll find a way to see you again! I promise!” He yelled over the now crumbling walls, “see you soon,” he smiled and disappeared.

When I come to, I’m lying in my bed at home. I let the memories of Sven wash over me.

So he’s not really dead! I think happily. I have to get Mom to let me go to the academy! Then I can see him for real! I’m so overwhelmed by happiness, I can’t help but giggle. I climb out of bed feeling better than ever, but the mood quickly fades away. I slowly tip toe down the stairs where I hear faint sobs from living room. Only my mom sobs like that, she squeaks like a little mouse. I hate it when she cries, not only is it annoying, but it breaks my heart.

I walk through the kitchen where a huge mess awaits. A pile of ash lies where the stove once was; all but one cupboard is still attached to the wall as the others are smashed into pieces on the floor, and the fridge is knocked over with food leaking out, but what really gets my attention is the dining room. A broken plate lays shattered on the floor along with my dad’s crushed glasses, but under the glasses was an envelope. I step around the shattered plate, collect the small beige envelope, pick up a fallen chair and sit. I scan the envelope; it looks old and classic, sealed with red melted wax that I slowly peel away.

Caution floods through me and my pulse pick up. My hands tremble with fear but I don’t know why. I lift the fold and pull out the letter, I’m about to unfold it when there’s a knock at the door. I jump, Mom screams. I quickly walk to the door with the letter still in hand, and dig to the bottom of the umbrella stand, and feel for the silver dagger that my mom insists we keep there.

“Mom,” I whisper, “cover me, get your weapon. It might be the people that took Dad,” she releases a sob and crawls to the bookcase, staying just below window. When she’s clear from the window, she goes on her tippy-toes to reach the 5th shelf, where she keeps her shiny new pistol Dad had gotten for her birthday a few months back.

I drop the letter behind the stand as I pull out the dagger. The one time we need a peephole, we don’t have one, just great! I put my fingers behind my back, and count to zero backwards. When I hear my mom shift her weight, getting ready for a fight I swing the door open.

“Hello little girl, have you seen your mother?” A man says with amusement in his voice. Mom drops her gun with a shriek and runs down the hall, where I hear the backdoor slam to confirm her escape.

I stand in the door way facing the man in total shock. Did my mom really just ditch me with a psycho kidnapper?

“Farewell little girl, I only came for her,” he points into the empty darkness, and turns.

“Stop!” I shout, “What do you want with my mother? What did you do with Dad?” Anger rolls off me in waves, and I’m no longer afraid.

“That is my business, and I advise you not to get involved. Unless you want to get hurt,” he chuckles then slowly fades away.

I run upstairs and into my room. My wet bloody clothes are at the foot of my bed where my mom must have left them when she changed me into my cozy pyjamas with the zebra stripes. I dig for my jeans, and pat the pockets. No phone there. I walk to the window and lock it. I look into the darkness but pull away, not wanting to see what awaits. I walk across the hall into the bathroom, and stop in front of the sink. I wash the blood off my hands and look up. It’s the same me. Same wavy, dark red hair that reaches my waist, and bright gold eyes that shine in the slightest light. Same tiny slim frame that’s only 5 foot 4. Everything is so different, but still looks the same.

I quickly turn away and head toward the front door, which I lock. I open the closet door and grab my jacket. I reach deep into my left pocket and feel for my phone.

Not there, I think, then reach and dig in the other one, Ah ha! That dream world place must have changed my phone into chocolate. I frantically search for Marks number and hit call.

“Hello,” he answers, “Mark speaking.”

“Mark, where are you,” I ask, my voice wavering.

“I’m home, why? Is everything ok? You sound upset.”

“There gone,” I whisper.

“Who’s gone?”


“Mom and Dad, the Rogue took dad, and some man came to the door and mom ran away. I don’t know what do, but I have to go to the academy,”

“I’m coming over. Lock the doors; I’ll call when I’m there!” He hangs up.
I pick up the dagger lying on the floor, and hide it back in the umbrella stand. The letter glows a bright red behind the stand, and I pick it up, walking back to the table.

A glowing letter is never a good sign, but what the hey, right? What else could go wrong? I unfold the letter and read it. Then re-read it, and read it again. I don’t get it I think, what does- Oh! I see! Anger and fear run through me. My phone vibrates but I ignore it. I let out a raged scream and flip the table. My phone vibrates again, this time I pick it up. “What?” I scream

“I’m here- Hey! That’s rude. Do you always pick up your phone by yelling at someone? Now whenever you call me, I’m going to scream ‘what’. Lets see how you like that!” Mark shot back.

“Ya whatever, sorry,” I say as I unlock and open the door. “Just come in, I have to show you something.” I hit end, and walk back to the table. I drag a stool from the living room since all the others are broken, and sit as Mark comes in and surveys the damage.

“What happened in here? Someone get in a fight?”

“No, my dad wanted to redecorate so he tore up the kitchen,” I say sarcastically, “what do you think happened? My dad was kidnapped! What do you think he did? Tore up the kitchen then agreed to go with the Rogue? No, he obviously put up a fight,” I say, my voice slowly rising.

“Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it like that, what I meant was, umm, well that doesn’t matter. Tell me everything that happened so far. My Dad is coming back later to take us to the academy. I’ll help you pack.”

“Well, short story shorter, I knew dad was kidnapped when he didn’t show up, and I have this letter to prove it,” I wave the letter around, “and some tall blond dude came to the door and pointed to mom, she screamed and ran away. I tried to ask him questions but he told me to stay out of it unless I wanted to get hurt. There.”

“Let me see the letter please,” he says and takes it before I respond.

“Follow me upstairs, I’ll pack,” I say as I get up and head for the staircase.

I grab my overnight bag from under my bed and walk to the bathroom. I open the mirror cabinet and take the small bottle of Tylenol, a box of band aids, a fresh tube of toothpaste, some floss, my toothbrush, and throw it into my bag. I go to the bathtub and grab a bottle of shampoo and conditioner and my rose scented body wash. I put that in a separate pocket in my bag and head back into my room.

“Can you go get 2 suitcases from the hall closet please?” I ask and make my way to the dresser to grab my straightener, a hair brush, a few hair ties, my makeup kit, and the perfume set my mom got me for my birthday last year.

“Ya sure, no prob.”

“So why are we leaving tonight?” I ask, I don’t need to yell since he has really good hearing.

“Because to Activity level is up to a solid 15.3 since 4 this morning,” he says back, I too, have amazing hearing.

“What! That’s the highest it’s been since the 1800s. I wonder what’s happening,” I say as I start peeling the sheets off my bed, and throwing them in my suitcase. Good thing I washed them last night.

“Me to, I tried asking my dad but he just told me ‘everything’s fine’ then smiled the Lie Smile,”

“Wow, things must be bad then.”

“Ya, hey, do you mind if I pull the suitcase on the top shelf and let it drop?”

“Sure, what’s there to break?” I laugh.

“I don’t know, it’s kinda heavy for an empty suitcase if you know what I mean,” he warned
I poke my head behind the door and watch him slowly pull it down; with one quick motion it lands on the floor with a crash like shattering glass.

“I told you something was in there!” He laughs

“What? No you didn’t! You warned me it was heavy!” I protest as I walked over and unzip it.

“Why do you have lamps in there?”

“I really don’t know. Probably didn’t finish unpacking.”

“Here take this one; I’ll get the one in your parent’s room.”
I take the suitcase tipped on its side, and roll it into my room. I throw it on my bed and walk to the closet. I take a handful of clothes and throw them in my cute red suitcase as Mark walks in with the ugly mouldy green and mustard yellow plaid suitcase.

“There’s a reason I asked you to get the ones in the closet,” I say eye the other suitcase.

“Here, you pack all the stuff in my closet, and I’ll get my dresser,” I say as I walk over and empty out my underwear drawer into the plaid suitcase.

“You don’t need to pack all your stuff, my dad is coming back tomorrow to get the rest of my stuff, he can get all yours as well,”

“True, then just get all the shoes out of the closet throw them in the ugly bag. Bottom left shelf,” I say as I zip up the red case. “Get my passport from my nightstand, I’ll go pack my laptop then we’re done. I leave the room and head to the study where my computer lays charging. I quickly log on, and check my bank account. Running low. I open the bottom drawer where dad puts all his bills; I reach up and feel for the pink sticky note with Dad’s banking information

A horn blares outside.

“That’s him!” Mark calls from my room.

“Just a minute, I’m doing something!” I quickly log onto my dad’s bank account and transfer $4592 onto my account. He’ll never know. I reach under the desk, grab my laptop bag, and shove all my stuff in it.

I run downstairs and meet up with Mark at the door.

“You have everything? Your bags are already in the car,”

“Yup,” I say smiling as I grab my purse off the closet door handle and check for my wallet, “let’s go!”

“So, how far is the school from here?” I yawn.

“About 8 hours if we take the short way, 12 hours if we take the long way, but I’d rather take the super short way which is only 1 hour,”

“Are we taking a portal?” I ask unhappily.

“Yup. The sooner you get there the safer!”

“Mark, did you read the letter yet?”

“No, hold on,” he says as he reaches in his back pocket.

“Mr. Stone, I need your help. I’ll have to leave everything to you and the Council though. Is that ok?”

“Ya, that’s fine. That’s why we’re here.”

“Well, today the rogue took my father,” I say

“Yes, we know. I also healed your head wound when your father didn’t show up after a few hours. Good thing we live just down the street.”

“Oh, well thank you. Anyways, this man came to my house, and my mom freaked out. So she ran away, and he went after her,”

“Oh dear, say, umm, did the man have bright blond hair, and deep green eyes?”

“Hey, ya! He did, do you know him?” I asked sounding hopeful.

“I’m afraid so,” his voice bitter, “that’s Michel, Sven’s father. Seems they never died in the fire. From what we heard, Sven escaped, but no one heard of his father again. Until yesterday. Your families in great danger and you need to get out of here.”

“What did we ever do to him?” my fists clench.

“Hey, I think I get this letter now,” Mark interrupts.

“What letter?” His dad asks.

“The letter the people who took my dad left me, it’s a really bad riddle, but I get it. I just don’t know who the last guy is, but whoever he is, he’s harmless.”

“I’ll read it,” Mark says as he shines his phone light on the paper, “‘in the dark I stalk the night, in the day I stalk you’,” he looks at me

“Which is Garrett, the escapee Day Walker,” I answer.

“‘But stronger than me, is the Greatly Feared Christopher, who wants your soul, but worse than him, is a regular friendly Were.’”

“That’s what gets me. The first 2 are famous deadly vampires, but the last one is a friendly Were?” Igive a frustrated sigh.

“Wait, it says ‘greater than me’ did Garrett write it, or is that another person?” mark asks.

“Hmm, hand me the letter, I’ll bring it in for investigation.” His father says.

“Thanks Oliver, that’s a great help.”

“All this has happened, and you haven’t shed one tear. I mean, you balled you eyes out when you saw that cat get rescued out of a tree, but you don’t cry when your parents get kidnapped?”

“Those were tears of joy. Besides, my species don’t cry over things that can be fixed, well that’s what I believe.”

“No one knows what your species is!” Mark laughs and I hit him in the arm.

“Get ready kids,” Oliver warns, “make sure your seatbelts are on tight, this portal is one of the old ones,”

“Old ones?” I ask

“The other end drops from the sky,” Mark answers as he tightens his seatbelt, and I do the same.

Oliver speeds up, and passes the high school, I think it was the school; we were going too fast for me to see. I believe there’s a dead end up ahead, that’s where the portal must be. I don’t know how he can see it from here, it’s like another 5 minutes away, but I brace myself anyway.

The portal is massive, about 57ft in diameter with its dizzying purple swirls going clockwise, and bright lime green swirls going counter clockwise. It’s hidden behind a glamour so humans don’t see it, but it’s so big and bright I’m surprised humans don’t. Well that’s the power of magic for you.

“Hold on,” Oliver says as he goes faster –if that’s even possible– and heads straight for the portal. We’re almost there, a few meters away, when something slams into the car hard enough to make it flip over 3 or 4 times. The car stays turned on its side, and I’m squished against the window.

“How many car accidents to I have to be involved in before whoever my luck comes from is satisfied?” I moan as I try to push myself away from the window.

“Probably 3 times, the werewolf is coming back!” Mark said in alarm.

The wolf scratches the roof, its claws reaching through.

“We don’t have much time before he rips the car apart,” Oliver whispers, “reach under my seat Neona, grab whatever weapons you can feel for,” he coughs, “there all coated with silver.”

I bend over and reach toward the back of the driver’s seat, but I barely reach the floor. Ugh, I hate being short, it’s never useful. Well, it was useful that one time in New Jersey, when my Dad and I went mutant rat hunting, and I had to climb in the rat hole, but that’s another story for a another time.

“I can’t reach,” I gasp, struggling to reach again.

“Oh, that’s right, you’re a short one,” Mark says trying to keep a clam mood.

“Haha, now’s not the time for jokes. Where’s the wolf now? I want to take off my seat belt,” I ask out of breath.

“Umm, I don’t see it. Take your seatbelt off, I’ll open the window. Once you get the weapons climb out,” he said as he rolled down the window manually. Thank God for his Dad taking this old car instead of his Mazda 3, not only for the manual windows, but because it’s a nice car, and it doesn’t deserve this kind of treatment.

“Once you kids are out, you better run to the portal! I will not let you sacrifice your lives to fight just for the hell of it!”

“But Dad… what about you?” Mark whines as he rolls down the window. He’s famous for whining his questions, it’s annoying, but you get used to it.

I undo my seatbelt and slowly reach under his seat. There’s a sharp pain in my finger and I snap my hand back and watch blood pour from my middle finger.

“Careful, the swords are unsheathed under there,” Oliver says as he undoes his seatbelt and climbs over to the passenger seat. He grabs onto the handle above the door and starts rolling down the window.


I reach under the seat again and grab something cold and heavy. I pull out the object and a smile spreads across my face. A G3 Assault, perfect for shooting rouge that piss me off. I reach under again and grab the sword, gently wrapping my hand around the blade and slowly pulling it up so I don’t cut myself again.

“Here,” I say thrusting the sword toward Mark as he sticks his head out the window.

“Thanks,” he replies, grabs the handle, and hops out the window. “Quick, grab my hand!” He whispers. I take my purse and laptop bag that’s still hanging off the head of the passenger seat and crisscross them over my head, I reach back to grab the rifle.

“Hurry, before he comes back,” Mark whispers frantically.

I give him the rifle, grab his hand and climb out. Oliver is half way out of the window when the wolf appears on the other side of the car.

“Hurry!” I scream and grab his hand. I pull him out of the car and run toward the portal.

“Not so fast Princess,” the wolf laughs, his words sounding slurred and slow. It must be hard forming words around that big muzzle. I almost feel pity for the poor thing, but then I remember all the things it’s done today, and my pity turns to cold, bitter hate.

“Keep running!” Mark yells as I slow down, “We’re right behind you!”

The wolf is faster. Way faster. It runs past Mark, then Oliver, who I’m still holding onto, and past me. I slow down and wait for Mark to catch up. He hands me the G3, and pries my hand off his dad’s wrist, and I speed up. The wolf stops in front of the portal, waiting, daring us to come closer and try to enter.

“Why isn’t he going in?” I ask Mark. I’m so behind on all this stuff because my Mom never tells me anything, and Dad does whatever Mom says because she’s the “Man of the house” type and gets mad when we don’t listen.

“If you kill your own kind or another Supernatural without meaning, you are automatically banned from all Council resources, and you’re on your own for life. So it’s a fact he’s a rogue.” Mark says as he looks around.

I keep my eyes on the wolf, not daring to take my eyes off it. I click off the safety, and aim.

“Move wolf, if you do not wish to get hurt,” I snarl.

“Try me,” he growls.

“Speak of your name, Rogue! Or deal with the Council,” Oliver yells as he walks in front of Mark, standing tall and strong.

“Screw the Council!” The Were snarls, “I don’t care about them. All I want is the girl,” he nods his head toward me.

“Really? I’m flattered; I’ll have my people contact your people. Maybe get them to send you an autographed picture of me or something like that,” I say sarcastically.

“Hand me the girl!” He shouts, not backing down.

“Over my dead body!” Mark shouts back, the anger in his voice makes me shiver, and the wolf’s fur stands up like a scared cat. I have a feeling this wolf isn’t as tough as it looks.

“That can be arranged,” the wolf laughs as he leaps toward Mark.

An opening, I shoot at the wolf, close enough to scare him but not close enough to actually kill him. I always leave the killing to Dad.

It’s sort of getting hard to think about Mom and Dad, but I have to be strong and look on the positive side. That’s what they told me when Uncle Andrew was killed by a vamp.

I look at the portal, then at the wolf. I reach in my purse and take out my emergency pistol. I aim for where the wolf is going to land next and shoot, grazing his paw.

The wolf howls, loses its footing and falls on its side. I walk over and point my gun at his head.

“Speak your name wolf,” I demand.

“Stark Allens, my name is Stark Allens, I’m only doing my job!” he slurs, tears wetting his fur.

“And who sent you?” I probe.

“I mustn’t speak of his name,” he whispers.

“I’ll get the bags,” Mark says, nonchalantly like he’s offering to take my coat, and not witnessing the whole violent scenario.

“Who?” I kick him.

“Just kill me now, save me from the pain that waits ahead,” the wolf cries.

I can’t help it. I’m not that cruel, even if he did try to kill me, “go.”

“What?” Jace whispers.

“Go, run, you’re free. I don’t care who’s after me. Just leave before I really feel like killing you.” I wave my gun toward the forest to my right, and cover my face with my free hand.

“Thank you,” he slurs and limps away.
I turn to the car where Oliver is digging through the trunk taking our luggage out and placing them gently on the road.

“What a touching moment. I almost feel like crying,” Mark laughs, then, “get your luggage, I’ll put the weapons in the car and call the Council.” He says as he turns away. I walk toward the car and take my stuff and overnight bag.

“Women and their luggage,” Oliver mumbles as he starts taking out Marks stuff.

“Excuse me?” I laugh and punch him in the shoulder.

“Listen,” he says looking serious, “I will find your parents. Even if it kills Amanda and I. Your family has done so much for us and the world you wouldn’t believe it,” he pats my head.

“Even though I have no clue what you’re talking about, thanks a lot.”

“You’ll figure it out when you get there. Maybe in some of your history classes,” he smiles.

Mark comes back tucking his phone away in his jean pocket, “ready?” he asks, walking over to his single duffel bag and slinging it over his shoulder.

“You kids be safe now, and don’t cause too much trouble,” Oliver asks as he pulls Mark into a tight hug. He walk over to me, and I open my arms.

“Such an adorable little girl this you are,” he laughs, “you look like a puppy going to war,” he walks into my hug, gives me a big squeeze, and kisses me on my forehead.

“Don’t forget the letter!” I remind him and I pull away first, wanting to get to the portal before anything bad happens.

“Oh I won’t,” he smiles and pats his pocket, “Look, there’s the Council, you guys better get going before they hold you back,” he watched a black, sleek limo pull up the road.

Mark and I said our goodbyes again and walk toward the portal, we stop a few meters away from it because the suction is so strong, and Mark asks, “Are you ready? I know I’ve been asking, but I’m just nervous. You know how I get when it comes to new surroundings,” he voice shakes.

I link my arm around his because my hands are full, and start running, we take 2 steps and the portal sucks us in before we can slow down.