In the small town of Derry, the sun slowly began to rise north due east. As the sun rose, the light seeped into the motel room of Emily Winchester causing the teenager to stir in her sleep.

Emily Winchester had been living in Derry for a total of five weeks, the teenager having already built up her motel room to reflect her personality. Alike to most teenage rooms, it was messy, random clothing, shoes, trash, and papers littering the bland carpet floors. Anyone who stepped into the motel room and looked at the papers on the ground would quickly notice that the papers were not normal school notes. No, they would see the papers held different hypothesis, theories, legends, and myths with pictures of creatures that people identified mostly as folklore.

However, no one would pay mind to the papers on the floor as their attention would no doubt be drawn to what was hanging on the old flowery wallpapered wall of the motel room. Just across from the queen-sized bed, hanging up on the wall was a ginormous investigation chart. Within the chart were maps, multiple missing children's posters, notes on a multitude of legends and folklore, and many more odd things that definitely would not be hanging in the room of any normal teenage girl.

Red and blue strings attached many of these items, tying it all together looking for any sort of similarities.

Unlike Emily first believed, whatever it was that was haunting the streets of Derry was not a wendigo. Nor was it any werewolf or vampire. If Emily was being honest with herself, she truly had no idea what it was that was causing all the children to go missing. Not only were the children of Derry going missing, but the adults also seemed to be under some sort of powerful influence making them more careless than normal.

Emily had walked into Derry thinking this case would be rather simple, unfortunately, she was proven wrong. For the past five weeks, Emily had been going in circles, hitting dead ends with what this monster could possibly be. All she had was the missing children to go off of, and considering she had no clue where they were going missing to, Emily was empty-handed.

She considered a potential witch case, but this was far too much for any average witch to be capable of. Maybe a coven of witches, but even that didn't add up.

This was not how she envisioned her first hunt by herself to go.

The worst part about all this was that when John Winchester called to check up on her every few days, Emily was forced to lie and say she was making progress. She could not tell her father the truth, tell him that the case was turning out to be a complete and utter bust. If she told him that then John would not hesitate in driving back down to Derry claiming he made a mistake thinking she was old enough to handle this herself.

In Emily's defense, this case was different from any she had ever been on. Whatever this creature is was something that Emily and her family had never run into. Therefore this made her job all the much harder because she was now forced to research any legend and myths surrounding different monsters.

Luckily for her, the Derry library held an abundance of stories and lore on monsters, many of which Emily had never even heard of.

The Winchester girl bounced from witches to a rougarou to a rogue hellhound, but nothing seemed to fit the description no matter how far she delved into it. At this rate, she would get nowhere by the time her dad was meant to pick her up in three months.

As the light trickled through the open curtains of Emily's motel room, spraying across her face, the girl moaned in her sleep, turning her body over. For what seemed like the twelfth time that month alone, Emily had fallen asleep in the midst of reading up on a book titled 'Tales of the Dead', a legend book on the different monsters that supposedly roamed America.

Emily had fallen asleep in her clothes from the previous day, the flannel shirt she wore wrinkled beyond recovery and her hair nothing less than a hot mess.

As Emily shifted in her sleep, her sudden movement causing for 'Tales of the Dead' to fall from the edge of her bed and onto the ground below. The thud of the heavy book hitting the ground caused Emily's eyes to fly open, the girl immediately reaching under her pillow pulling out her gun on pure instinct.

   She wildly waved it around, looking for any sort of threat to shoot.

It may have sounded paranoid, but John taught his children early on to always sleep with one eye open and a gun under their pillow. With their job description, they never knew who or what exactly could be lurking in the shadows.

"Ah... shit," Emily cursed, seeing the time on the alarm clock next to her bed.

She was running late for school. Again.

Thank god it was the last day of school before it let out for the summer. Emily would no longer be stuck on waking up early in the morning as now she could sleep in till whatever time she wished.

Emily lazily tossed her gun on the nightstand next to her bed, peaking down seeing 'Tales of the Dead' laying half open on the ground. Wiping the drool from her mouth, Emily Winchester hopped down from the creaky motel bed.

   As she landed on the ground, the girl yawned heavily, twisting her body causing a series of cracking noises to fill the room as she cracked her back.

She was used to the cheap uncomfortable motel beds by now, Emily had been sleeping on them all her life after all.

Grunting in relief at the relieved pressure, Emily bent forward grabbing the lore book from the floor. Tossing it over her shoulder, Emily heard the large book land on the bed.

"Okay," Emily nodded to herself, running her fingers through her tangly hair. "One more day, I can do this!" She gave herself a pep talk, cringing in pain when her fingers came across a rather nasty feeling knot in her hair.

"Yep, definitely need to wash my hair."

☐☐☐☐

After taking a shower in which she made sure to deeply wash her hair, Emily had changed her red flannel to a grey one along with deciding that her jeans weren't dirty enough to change quite yet. With one last glance at her chart, Emily growled in frustration, leaving the motel room to get to school. She skipped breakfast, a bad habit which she pulled most days.

Of course with Emily's quick driving on her dirt bike and the cops in Derry seeming extra loose with the law, she had managed to get to school in record time.

In the past five weeks, the students of Derry High had grown accustomed to hearing the sound of a familiar dirt bike's engine pulling into the school just thirty seconds before the bell for first hour was meant to ring. Most students cast sideways glances at Emily Winchester as she rode into the parking lot, coming to a screeching halt in the closest spot to the school that she was able to snag.

After Emily's third day at Derry High when she broke Henry Bowers nose, people tended to steer clear of the girl. Whispers went around the hall claiming the girl was a psychopath, but Emily could not find it in herself to care. In fact, she thought it was better that people believed her to be a psychopath as it kept them away from her.

Besides, if you asked her brothers, Dean and Sam Winchester, they would say that Emily danced on the line of being batshit crazy. Half of the time, Emily's suggestions when it came to dealing with a hunt were so farfetched and absurd that Dean wondered if she truly was crazy.

Especially after the time she suggested that she should jump off a cliff in order to distract the werewolf they had been hunting to give her father and brother time to reload their guns. That idea was crazy.

The sound of the dirt bike caught the attention of a certain group of eighth graders. Richie Tozier, Bill Denbrough, Eddie Kasbrak, and Stanley Uris all stood in the front yard of the school waiting for the bell to ring signaling the beginning of their last day of the eighth grade.

Final day of the horrid middle school.

Each and every one of them was ready to be able to say that they were officially out of middle school. Ninth grade, in their mind, was when they truly became teenagers.

As they all looked toward infamous Emily Winchester who was getting off her dirt bike, they could not forget what it was that she had done for them just a few weeks prior. After she defended them, she did not stick around long enough for any of them to introduce themselves.

For Richie Tozier, Emily Winchester was a dream, his dream to be specific. Since that day weeks ago, Richie had been unable to keep his gaze off of her when she was around (which was not often as she was a grade ahead of him). In his eyes, everything about her was perfect from the crazy cinnamon hair to her kaleidoscope eyes (and yes, he had noticed the almost unnoticeable ring of green at the edges).

Oddly enough, Richie soon came to the realization that Emily Winchester only ever wore flannel shirts. Blue, red, and grey were the three colors Richie had counted on her to ever wear, along with only two different pairs of jeans. Blue and black denim.

Her shoes, he came to understand, never changed. She only ever sported the black and white converse all stars.

Yes, Emily Winchester was absolutely perfect to him.

Richie's already magnified eyes seemed to grow in size as Emily passed by them, the scent of gunpowder and... was that chocolate, filling his nose. Her curls bounced with every step she took, a small yawn escaping her as she opened the doors to the school.

Richie Tozier had noticed from day one that Emily seemed to always be tired, the undertone of her eyes seemly always slightly swollen and purplish against the rest of her sunkissed skin. Not many had noticed this small fact about Emily, but then again, no one studied Emily quite as much as Richie Tozier.

Emily was not that much taller than Richie, two inches at the most, and yet it was enough for the rest of the losers to tease him about it.

"D-dude, stop going after a girl t-taller than y-you." Bill said lightheartedly, nudging Richie playfully against his shoulder.

Taking a deep breath, Richie (with much effort) ripped his gaze away from Emily's ass, looking to the rest of his friends.

"That is the future Mrs. Tozier boys," Richie said it firmly, his voice holding no doubt that Emily was his soulmate and one day he would marry her, then they could move to California and have lots of babies.

Richie was still naive enough about the world around him to think that it was just that easy. As if Emily was not a girl destined for the life of hunting the supernatural.

"Yeah, in your dreams. You haven't even talked to the girl, not to mention she's a year older than you." Stan hotly replied as the bell for first hour chimed.

   "Age is just a number, Stanley."

☐☐☐☐

"Ms. Winchester," Emily slowly picked up her gaze up from where she was doodling a picture of a ghoul in her journal, clashing gazes with her mathematics teachers. "Would you care to tell me what the formula for Pythagorean Theorem is?"

Now, if he had asked Sam Winchester this question, the boy would have easily been able to answer it. But, he was talking to Emily Winchester, and out of all the school subjects she hated the most, mathematics definitely took number one in that category.

Her teacher eyed the surprisingly well-drawn picture of a ghost in disgust, his lip curling into a ghastly sneer. Emily only rose a brow, crossing her legs one over the other while pursing her lips.

The snickers of Vic Criss came from across the classroom as he laughed meanly at her. Rolling her eyes, Emily chucked her pencil at Vic, the wooden writing tool flipping in the air before hitting Vic harshly across the back of the head.

The boy cried out, clutching his bleached hair while glaring at Emily Winchester with such a hate, the girl surely would have dropped dead on the spot if his gaze could do that.

"Emily Winchester, how dare you..." Emily dazed off as her teacher proceeded to yell at her, simply packing her notebook into her bag knowing the bell ending the school day was bound to ring any second now.

'Goodbye Derry High, I won't miss you,' Emily thought bitterly to herself just as the bell rang, everyone single student flying from their seats, tripping over each other to get out of the class.

Summer-fun-time bitches.

"I hope the rest of your life sucks, I will not miss you. Ever!" That was Emily's farewell to her last ninth grade math teacher as she sprinted from the room.

As Emily ran down the halls of Derry High with the location of the bathroom in mind, she did not notice that she brushed against a certain group of eighth graders, Richie Tozier in particular. Richie Tozier smelled the gunpowder and chocolate before he saw her, his mouth flying open when he felt her body rub against his igniting feelings deep within.

He was definitely going to have a fun time with his new container of lotion tonight.

"I'll marry you one day." He proclaimed, Emily not hearing him as she turned into the restroom but his friends very much hearing the loudmouth.

"Shut up, Richie, your obsession with her is getting creepy." Eddie sighed as they passed the girl's restroom.

Once she was inside the restroom, Emily wasted no time in getting into a stall and doing her business. Once she was finished, the teenager's nose crinkled at the smell of a cigarette, wondering who was in the stall next to her smoking.

Going to the sink and washing her hands, Emily read the small messages scratched into the surface of the mirror.

'Watch you fuck me fuck you,' Emily was not sure what that even meant.

'cuNt ass motherfucking whore,'

'i Hate math!'

'suck my balls.'

'HAVE AN AMAZING FUCKING GREAT ASS DAY!'

Emily sniggered at the comments, reaching to the can of napkins beginning to dry her hands. As Emily examined the cracking tile of the bathroom walls, Greta Bowie stomped her way into the restroom.

Greta Bowie was basically the eighth-grade female version of Henry Bowers. She messed with people in her own grade as well as seventh graders, and sometimes, if they were weak enough, ninth graders, but never sophomores and above.

It was only as Greta made her way inside that Emily took notice of her two goons waiting quietly in the corner.

Greta marched to the outside of the middle-most stall in the restroom, delivering a fierce kick to the door. Despite the stall door rattling, it did not open.

   "Are you in there by yourself Beaver-ly? Or do you have half the guys in the school with you? Huh, slut?" Greta screamed at the stall door, her hands clenched to fists.

Emily immediately knew who Greta was messing with. Beverly Marsh was an extremely pretty eighth-grade girl, but she was also one of the girls that the entirety of the school seemed to whisper about.

Apparently, Beverly was a no-good slut, but Emily did not believe that. For the rumors to be true, Emily suspected that she would have seen Beverly with at least one guy in the time that she's been in Derry, but so far, she had only ever seen Beverly by herself. However, even if the rumors were true, Emily did not see how it was any of the other students business.

"I know you're in there, you little shit. I can smell you, no wonder you don't have any friends!" Greta referred to Beverly's bad habit of smoking.

Greta appeared to not notice Emily Winchester by the way she was shrieking like a banshee. Emily took this moment to toss her napkin, spinning around and leaning against the sink. She wanted to see how long it would take Greta to notice her.

Emily knew most of the students steered clear of her for a reason, that reason being that she broke Henry Bowers (the 'toughest' boy on campus) nose. Greta Bowie was no different, she would never in a million years try to mess with Emily Winchester as she did not want to end up with a deformed face with what that psychotic girl would probably do to her. Or at least, that's what Greta believed.

"Well, which is it, Greta." Beverly's voice drifted from over the stall Greta was in front of.

   Emily tapped her fingers against the rim of the sink, listening to the confrontation play out. Greta's two goons had noticed Emily, but they did not say anything, both of them not wanting to get in the middle of whatever was about to go down. "Am I a slut or a little shit? Make up your mind." Beverly clearly vocalized, her tone exasperated.

"You're trash, we just wanted to remind you." It was then that Emily noticed one of Greta's goons had actually been filling up a trash bag with cold water and was currently pulling it over the stall next to Beverly with the intention of dumping it on her.

Greta Bowie took a few steps back, a small smirk on her face. Unfortunately, she was moving in the direction which caused her to bump right into Emily Winchester, the teenage girl already annoyed with how they were treating Beverly.

"Beverly, up top!" Emily warned Beverly.

   Greta jumped while spinning around, her eyes flashing in fear as she met gazes with the one and only Emily Winchester.

Emily was not too fond of the idea of pushing around a lower classman, but when it came to the likes of someone like Greta Bowie, Emily could not find it in herself to care. Shoving Greta forward with a scary amount of strength, Greta cried as she fell on her butt.

"Ahh! Let's go!" She yelled in fright, scrambling to her feet and sprinting out of the bathroom when Emily faked a lunge toward her.

Greta's two goons were not far behind, racing after their leader. A few seconds later, Emily heard the click of the stall door watching as Beverly came out with a disgusted look on her face. She was shaking her bag, and Emily realized that Beverly had been smart and used it to block the garbage from falling onto her.

"Thank you," Beverly said with a small smile, Emily nodding back.

"Don't mention it, here." Emily handed Beverly the small bottle of perfume she usually kept on her. The red-haired female took the bottle with a thankful smile, immediately using it to spray on herself and her stinky wet backpack.

When Beverly tried handing Emily the bottle back, Emily shook her head, motioning for her to keep it. "Nah, you can keep it. Stay awesome, Beverly Marsh." Emily smiled while flashing Beverly the peace sign and leaving the bathroom.

"Thank you again!" Beverly yelled with a large grin, but Emily had already vacated the restroom by that time.

As Emily made her way out of the school, ready to go back to her motel and start back where she left off on 'Tales of the Dead', a small scene caught her eye. Just in the grass of the front yard of the school was the Bower's Gang messing with four others.

Instantly Emily recognized the four people Henry was messing as the eighth graders she saved from Henry her first week of school. She had not stayed long enough to actually catch their names, something she felt slightly guilty about, but she had not wanted stick around in fear of teachers coming after her for breaking a student's nose.

Swinging her backpack over her shoulder and blowing her bangs out of her eyes, Emily waltzed down the stairs of the school making her way over to the small scene playing out. Emily could see that two of the eighth graders had been tossed to the ground. A boy with thick-rimmed glasses and a curly-haired boy wearing a kippah.

A few feet away, another smaller boy was gagging from Belch burping in his face. Finally, Bill Denbrough stood looking at his friends in horror before turning to Henry with an ounce of bravery.

"You suh-suck Bowers!" Bill stammered out a yell causing Henry to freeze, turning around with a sarcastic grin.

As Emily walked over she noticed the boy with thick glasses helping his friend up, the girl smiling at his act of kindness.

"You s-suh-say something, B-Buh-Billy?" Henry mocked Bill's stutter, taking small steps toward Bill.

However, before he could make it close to Bill Denbrough, Emily Winchester had stepped in front of him much to everyone's shock. No one had seen her coming, it was like she appeared out of thin air.

"Watch out, Bowers. Daddy's lookin' over here, wouldn't want him to see you." Emily stated in an innocent tone, though her words were anything but innocent.

Henry, Patrick, and Belch stopped short, all of them remembering Henry's broken nose that had only just healed. As much as they hated it, Emily Winchester was stronger than she looked, a lot stronger. Yeah, there were three of them and they could take her on, but Henry's dad was just yards away, there was no telling how much trouble he would get in if he saw him messing with a girl.

"Winchester, this doesn't involve you, fucking leave," Henry grunted, but Emily shook head.

"Hmm, let me think about that, no. Now, I would get the hell out of here, daddy looks like he's about ready to come over." Emily nudged her head toward Officer Bowers who was taking his sunglasses off, looking ready to walk over and see what all the fuss was about.

Narrowing his eyes, Henry said nothing as Patrick, himself, and Belch turned walking toward Vic's car, Vic Criss glaring at Emily still angry about her throwing a pencil at him earlier.

Before anyone could do anything more, Emily suddenly felt a tap on her shoulder. Turning around with a curious glint in her eye, Emily was met with the sight of Richie Tozier standing there with a wide smile spread across his lips.

"Emily Winchester, will you marry me?"

If Emily had ever been shocked in her life, this was the day that she was absolutely astonished. She was being proposed to by a boy slightly shorter and younger than herself, although, Emily did have to admit he was kind of adorable. Black curly hair, huge glasses, dimples, what could make him any cuter?

"Jesus Christ..." Stan Uris sighed at Richie, stepping forward. "What he means to say is thank you. Thank you for this and last month too." Stan said, Emily, smiling while nodding.

"Oh, that makes more sense. Well, you're welcome, and I'm Emily--" Emily was cut off by Richie, his usual 'loudmouth' taking the upper hand in this situation.

"I know who you are!" He all but shouted, a huge smile on his lips.

This was the day he was waiting for his entire life.

"Oh?" Emily blinked with another round of surprise, her eyes zeroing in on the infatuated 'trashmouth'. "Well, I'm sorry to say that I'm not the best with names. Mind introducing yourselves?" Emily rubbed the back of her neck, feeling slightly ashamed that they knew her name and yet she didn't know theirs.

Bill waved her off. "I-It's okay, I'm Bill Den-Denbrough." Bill introduced himself, Emily noticing the way he stuttered with his sentences.

It was a lovable speech impediment in her eyes, something that if she and Bill were closer, she would no doubt gently tease him about in a friendly manner.

"Hi, Billy," Emily said, Bill, blushing at the nickname she had already given him.

From next to the blushing Billy, Eddie stood puffing his inhaler. "I'm Eddie," Eddie Kasbrak wheezed in the midst of using his inhaler, Emily only giving him a concerned look in reply.

Eddie, she had noticed, was wearing a fanny pack, and she could not help but wonder what all was in there.

"I'm Stanley..." Emily's eyes darted to the curly-haired brunette boy who was her height. "But you can just call me Stan for short." He shrugged, making Emily smile and nod.

"Nice to meet, Stan." She grinned, about to step forward and shake his hand before another voice cut him off.

"Somebody better call God because he's missing an angel." Emily's head darted to Richie Tozier so fast, she thought she had whiplash. "I'm Richie Tozier, the name you'll be screaming in bed soon enough," Emily swore her jaw was touching the ground.

Was she really being hit on by a boy two inches shorter than herself? Sure, it wasn't that much and he would probably surpass her in height soon enough, but still, she definitely was not expecting it from the likes of him. However, she did have to admit it was amusing, and he was kind of adorable, in an odd sort of way.

"Well, Mr. Richie Tozier, your full first name wouldn't happen to be Richard, would it?" Emily went with the path of ignoring his previous flirtatious statement.

"Hell yeah, hot mama." Emily actually choked at that nickname, never having heard anyone call anybody that before.

Did this boy truly have no filter whatsoever? Was it inappropriate for her to flirt back? She was only a year older, but she wasn't sure if this was something that most people would frown upon. To be fair, Emily suspected that any adult hearing him call her hot mama would probably set off alarms.

Emily cringed thinking if her father or brothers ever heard Richie call her that. The outcome would not be pretty for Richie Tozier, that was for sure.

"Okay, Richard." The way Emily said his full name made goosebumps appear on Richie's pale skin.

The others were astounded that Emily was even entertaining Richie. They thought one comment from "Trashmouth" would have her running for the hills.

Shaking her head and breathing out a small laugh, Emily gave them all a smile. "I'll see you all later, I got to get going." It was not a lie, she did need to go and finish her chapter of 'Tales of the Dead'.

The current chapter she on was about the Crocotta, and though Emily highly doubted that the Derry creature was a Crocotta, she still found the chapter interesting. Besides, the knowledge would serve her well in future hunts.

"I'll see you later, Mrs. Tozier!" Emily giggled finding Richie's little comments adorable.

'Mrs. Tozier,' Emily thought, finding that the name didn't sound that bad. 'Not bad at all.'