It's my first shot at a fanfic so I hope I doit justice! Thanks again to simplystiles- for the opportunity to write out her idea! And for editing it

Love you guys Hope you like this!

"Imelda!"

My boss screams my name loudly, the sudden noise causes me to jump in place, resulting in my head bumping into a shelf. The books shuddered and a few toppled over onto the floor. I internally cursed myself, because I knew I would have to pick them up.

"Holy sh-" I begin to say, looking up and massaging the top of my head when suddenly I see a man staring at me from the corner of his eye.

He smiles eerily at me, before going back to picking a book from the many shelves amongst him. I smile back awkwardly, why is he here so late anyway?

"Imelda!" My boss screams once more and I jump up, running to the small office where he sits on his cheap thrift store chair that squeaks whenever he moves.

Joe, my boss, stands when he sees me and throws a heavy collection of keys at me, they were all conjoined on a rusted keychain. I'm barely able to catch them due to my surprise, and the sharp edges of the keys cut my palm.

"You're locking up, make sure the rest of the books are back to their places and everything is tidy for the morning crowd," he says to me, already walking out without giving me a chance to reply.

I sigh, I had 15 minutes left until I had to close up shop. Although, if the man who was browsing around didn't hurry up, I'd probably be here much longer. I let out an annoyed grumble at the thought.

I still had to finish putting the rest of the new books away, clean up, walk home, and get ready for bed. It was already almost nine and it was about a twenty minute walk from here to my house, so I knew that I probably wouldn't be getting into bed until later this evening. I could maybe ask Lydia to come pick me up but she's probably with Jackson so there was no way I'd get a response.

I yanked the glasses off my face, massaging my temples. Just breathe, Imelda... just breathe.

The place wasn't that dirty, just a couple pieces of trash here and there but it would still take me longer then necessary, especially if this man didn't hurry up.
As if on cue he came strolling through the bookshelves, one book in hand and that same creepy smile plastered on his face. I attempted to smile back, barely able to see him due to my glasses still clutched in my hand, but nonetheless content that he was finally going to leave.

I turned on the old computer, ready to register the book out to him and lock up soon after, "Did you find everything you were looking for?"

"I found what I was looking for easily," he says, handing me a book.

I nod in response and squint my eyes, scanning his book before noticing the title to it. Is he for real?

"Red Riding Hood?" I ask him curiously, "do you have children?"

"Something like that," is his brief answer before he hands me a five dollar bill.

I take it quietly, adverting his gaze. His answer instantly put me on high alert. Working in retail, you are able to develop a sixth sense when it comes to creepy customers, especially if you're a female... and he was definitely setting off my creeper meter.

I'm quick to make his change and shoving his purchase into a bag before handing it to him. The paper bag ripped slightly as I forcefully gripped at the top, the man smiles sickly as he reaches for the bag. His palm brushes mine before gripping it tightly. I try to jerk it away, but his hold is relentless.

"Your skin," he inquires, "is it a natural tan?"

I jerk my hand back and eye him wearily before answering," Yes."

He nods to himself and then smiles once again,"Well goodnight, Ms. Drake."

I fake a smile, another thing you learn while working in retail, "Goodnight, I hope you enjoy your book."

He walks towards the exit and I'm quick to follow and lock myself inside the bookstore.I watch as he disappears into the night, his black attire seeping into the dark perfectly. I stay at the glass door, even after he's left and realize something that sends a shiver down my spine.

I never told him my last name.

----

It took me longer then I thought but I had managed cleaning up and shoving the thoughts of that eerie man out of my head. Once the doors were closed I began walking down the main streets of Beacon Hills, the quiet town where nothing is out the ordinary.

There's loud music pumping through my earbud into my left ear as I walk in the moonlight and bask in the joy of cool air. Cop cars suddenly start whirling past me, heading straight for Beacon Hills Preserve. I wonder what's happened?

One of the cop cars stops suddenly, not far from me before coming in reverse and stopping.

"Hey Imelda!"

It's Sheriff Stilinski. I've spoken to him on occasion, he used to come into the book store to buy odd books and collections of supernatural lore for his son. I guess he was into the whole werewolf and vampire trend.

"Hi Sheriff," I say to him, quickly pulling the earbud out, not wanting to look rude in front of the town Sheriff.

"Headed home?" He asks me.

I nod my head, "Yeah I just finished my shift, can't wait to get into bed."

He smiles, "Ready for school tomorrow?"

I shake my head, "Not even a little bit, our break wasn't long enough."

He laughs and nods in agreement, "Listen do me a favor and hurry home please, something's happened and the nights becoming a little more dangerous here."

I nod and raise an eyebrow, "Can I ask what's happened?"

He ponders over the idea of giving me a more detailed answer, "There was an accident in the woods, a brutal one, and we don't know if the animal responsible is making it's way into town or not."

I quirk an eyebrow in confusion, "Animal?"

He nods, "That's what the investigative team thinks. Are you walking home or to your car?"

I look down awkwardly, "Walking home..."

"You're walking home?" he blinked rapidly for a moment, "I can take you home, it's not the best idea to be out here by yourself."

I shake my head, giving him a smile, "It's okay, I'm only five minutes away tops... plus you're needed out there at the Preserve. I'll be fine."

He nods reluctantly, I can see that he is about to protest, offering up another alternative way for me to get home, but before he can get the chance to say it, the radio goes off. I can't understand clearly over the static but by the look on Sheriff Stilinski's face... I can tell that what was said wasn't good.

"Go straight home. Lock the doors and windows, and don't let anyone inside. I'll try to check up on you tomorrow morning."

I nodded, "Yes sir, goodnight Sheriff Stilinski."

He looked at me one more time before saying goodnight and driving off.
There's a chill in my body, his words making me fear whatever might have happened to the deceased person might happen to me next. I pick up my pace, the loose sweats I have on making it harder for me full out run home.
I'm breathless by the time I've made it near my neighborhood, the streetlights suddenly welcoming home.

I take a deep breath, happy that in a matter of seconds I'll be in my warm bed watching an old episode of the Walking Dead or sleeping soundlessly. I slowed my pace as I approached my house, I pull out my phone ready to call the Sheriff's department and leave a message to Sheriff Stilinski know that I made it home safe and sound. Just as I'm about to tap the screen to dial the number, a sudden jolt of pain in the back of my skull interrupts me.

I feel myself drop, my glasses being the first thing to hit the sidewalk before my body follows suit. I hear the frames of my glasses snap not to far from me, before I start to fade.

The streetlights that welcomed me home suddenly going out, a darkness consuming me.
-----

I come to when I start to feel a cold liquid running down my face. My eyes are burning, I want to rub at them and make it stop, but instead my heads grabbed at my pounding head. It felt like my brain was about to implode on itself.

I suck in a deep breath, the smell of woods and dirt overtaking my sinuses. Where am I? The odd combination of the way the ground feels beneath me and the smells around me, cause me to squint my eyes open. I'm looking up into the night sky, catching a glimpse of a few stars shining brightly.

"Beautiful. Just... beautiful."

"What?" I shriek, moving around and looking at the forest consuming me.
The voice is distorted, confusing me further as I can barely hear it over the pounding inside of my head. Who is talking to me? Am I dreaming? Oh God, I've been kidnapped... all of those books in the shop about self defense and ways to prevent this very thing from happening didn't prepare me for this at all.

"You're exactly the kind of girl the bite is meant for," he says once more.

Bite? What bite? What's it talking about? Did he bite me?

I struggle for a moment, before standing, swaying from side to side. Another round of pain stabs at my ribs and I whimper pathetically as I press my hands to the wound, feeling a warm sticky substance... it has to be blood.

"Get away from me," my voice comes out weak, but I force myself to take whatever fighting stance I can remember. My mind is foggy and I'm fairly certain that the "fighting" stance I end up taking is one of me hunching over and placing my hands on my knees to try and fight through the nausea and dizziness.

He laughs, the sound vibrating through the forest and inside my head. I scrunch my eyes at the pain. Why is he so loud? How is it possible for someone to laugh that loudly.

"Exactly who the bite is meant for..." he whispers once more.

"Get away!" I say loudly, more forcefully than my previous attempt. My ears begin to ring and I can feel my body swaying, I can't control myself and I fall to my knees. I squeeze at my head, the immense amount of pain becoming overbearing.

"You're a warrior Imelda," he says from behind me.

And before I can even think of lifting my head to face my captor, I'm falling into the darkness once more.

-----

When I regain consciousness, there is more pain radiating through my body. No longer is it all inside my head, but now it's further down my body. In the same spot where I was bleeding last night.

The pain in my torso is now overpowering anything else. The pain in my head, back of my throat, eyes and aching joints pale in comparison to this.

I push myself off the ground, the movement causing the pain to become hotter and more intense than before. I look down to inspect the damage, at first all I can see is the ripped pieces of my white t-shirt. My bottom lips starts to tremble from the pain and all I want to do is fall asleep but I need to see what's wrong with me.

I pull away the pieces of material clinging to the open wound before gasping, it's giant. A chunk of my flesh ripped straight out of me. How did I not bleed out on the ground last night? It can't be possible that I survived an injury as severe as this, and not had significant blood loss.

I glance around, confused and scared. I'm laying on my own porch, the back door to my house wide open. How did I get home? I blink rapidly, unsure of why I was convinced I was still in the woods at the Preserve... how did I get here with my a chunk of my side missing?

I hadn't noticed the salty tears slipping down my face until one managed to get int the crease of my lips. I blinked rapidly and rubbed at my eyes, the pain was getting unbearable. I need to call 911.

My body is screaming at me to stop moving, but I have to ignore it's protests. The landline is in the kitchen and the kitchen is right on the other side of the door. I stumbled into the house, my hands pressing down on my wound again. The pressure helps the pain slightly. I hobble to the counter, wrapping my fingers around the edge to support myself.

The phone is sitting two feet away from me.

I take a deep breath and stretch my arm outwards, attempting to grab at least a part of the phone, if I had a grip on it then I could pull the entire thing over here. Instead of grabbing the phone, I lost my balance. I tried to catch myself, but my reaction time was way off.

My body hit the floor and the sound of my skin slapping against the tile caused me to wince, and the pain from my wound caused me to scream. I couldn't move. I was completely and utterly drained. I can't call for help. I close my eyes and try to calm my erratic breathing. Maybe if I fall asleep this nightmare will be over? Maybe the pain will subside and I'll wake up in my bed, having a cold sweat and shivering from the after effects of having a dream feel so real. I could only hope that this was a dream, because if it wasn't... then I'm dying. And as much as I don't want to believe it, the odds of the situation being the latter are a lot higher.