CHAPTER ONE // THE GIRL WITH NO NAME.

     She awoke to the thundering of hooves. The clear, unmistakable noise of some large creature galloping as fast and as fervently as it could.

A distinct feeling of fear came with it.

Shooting up from where she laid, body and face tarnished in the dirt she had been sprawled unconscious against, her cerulean eyes widened in immediate alertness. The unfamiliar forest was enshrouded in darkness. Not even the steady glow of the moonlight trickling through the sea of pines illuminated much of her ominous surroundings. Nocturnal animals called out in the near distance; their cries and melodies echoing through the pitch black woods.

Quickly, her befuddled gaze snapped downward, holding her hands before her face and turning them over with furrowed brows. They were filthied by the raw earth, fingernails lined with crusted mud. She looked down to her outstretched legs, her tattered white dress just as defiled by Mother Nature. Stained forever with clay and sod, it was torn ruthlessly; the now uneven shreds of fabric that remained tickling at her skin. Clearly it had once been a long dress, likely a pretty one, and now it only reached the very top of her bare thighs. The only thing that remained partially intact were the long, tightly-fitted lace sleeves; only mildly cut up and still reaching all the way to her wrists.

Though the night was chilly, her skin was glistening with a thick layer of sweat, and there was no breeze present to soothe her. Her ragged blonde locks clung to her dampened forehead and the back of her neck, loose tendrils framing her face.

Her head snapped back up at a resounding thump; there the hooves were again.

With narrowed eyes, she sat still and listened closely; an unsettling, sinister feeling hanging low in the air. It crept unforgivingly into her mind, her skin crawling. Before she could scrutinize her surroundings any further, a mighty buck was leaping out from behind a tree, revealing the source of the hoofbeats at once.

It's eyes were wild and afraid, it's spastic movements governed by franticness. It almost appeared as if it were under some sort of spell, and kept charging berserkly through the forest. And as if led by the same spell, the young girl sprung urgently to her bare feet. She did not pause to question the magnetic pull the animal seemed to have on her, but wholeheartedly chased after the disturbed deer instead.

Desperately, she raced after the much faster creature; foolish to believe she'd ever catch up. She quickly lost eyes on it, but never slowed down. Her heart hammered against her ribcage as twigs and twisting tree roots protruding from the ground scratched up her uncovered feet. But she didn't stop. For some reason, unbeknownst to her, she couldn't. She needed to find the deer and leave the feeling of danger lurking in the shadowy corners of these woods.

Only did she come to a screeching halt when the forest unexpectedly dumped her out onto a nearly empty road, arriving just in time to watch the magnificent buck crash directly into an immobile car.

High-pitched shrieks erupted from the vehicle, two girls frantically scrambling out of the automobile on either side; tripping over their own feet as they stumbled away, eyes bulging and mouths agape.

Her wide eyes were so focused on the bloody animal now hanging lifelessly from the shattered windshield that she hardly noticed the two boys rushing to the terror-filled girls; their car parked a little ways behind the newly demolished one. Hastily, she crouched behind an almost opaque bush; watching the four silently as she remained hidden in the tree-line.

"Are you okay?!" one of them shouted in alarm. The color of his hair blended seamlessly into the black night. His figure was chiseled, his jaw crooked.

Unhesitatingly, he made a b-line towards one of the girls; acute concern swimming through his wide, chocolate eyes. His hands fell to her arms in a way that looked natural; as if he'd touched her like that a million times before. Her face structure was nearly just as pronounced as his, her fluffy, umber hair resting on her shoulders; a slight curl at the bottom.

And though he had clearly directed his urgent inquiry to the teenager he was looking upon with such worry and care, it's the other girl who was responding.

"It came out of nowhere!" she exclaimed short of breath, voice mildly hoarse. Her stunning red hair was swept up into a ponytail, thick and full. Her lips were plump and a shade of soft pink, her eyes a striking olive green.

"Are you hurt?"

And finally, her focused blue irises shifted to the fourth and final teenager standing on the deserted road; this boy having dashed to the redhead girl. He wore a casual flannel, open in the front with a black shirt showing beneath. His hazel eyes scanned her entire body, searching carefully for injury. His coffee-colored, slightly messy hair had a small spike to it; only long enough to comb his fingers through.

"It ran right into us!"

"You okay?" the first boy asked again, tenderly this time, eyes glued to the brunette girl; standing so close his shadow cast over her alert features.

"I'm okay." she let out a soft breath.

All of them were evidently still in shock, a silent beat passing before the ponytail-girl raised her voice against the night.

"Well I'm not okay!" she declared in a panicked shout, eyes still bulging. Evidently, she was the most shaken up, and the only one seeming to have a reaction that was actually fitting. "I am totally freaking out!! How the hell does that just run into us?! I saw it's eyes right before it hit us. It was like it was..." she shook her head frantically, rolling her lips into her teeth as she struggled to get the words out; fog coming off her breath each time she spoke. "It was like it was crazy!"

Clutching onto the fabric of her annihilated dress with one hand, the girl shrunk back when the boy with the crooked jaw slowly approached the front of the destroyed vehicle to study the dead animal, unknowingly walking closer to her. His serious mien was unrelenting as his gaze trailed over the carcass.

"No, it was scared." he stated, causing her eyes to narrow behind her trusty bush; leaning slightly closer for a better view as he gingerly laid his hand on its blood-stained fur. "Actually, terrified."

The deer's conspicuous fear had reached him too, just like she'd felt when it was still bolting wildly through the woods. It had been terrified, and she had no clue why she had been able to tell so easily— why he apparently had too.

Suddenly, his head snapped over to the woods as something in his expression shifted; the girl letting out an inaudible gasp as she ducked further down to be shielded, now unable to see them. She was unsure of why, but something inside of her urged her not to dare trust these people.

"What? What is it?" the flannel boy stepped closer to him, recognizing his abrupt shift in demeanor; wondering what in the woods had snatched his attention away from the bizarre situation they were already dealing with.

"I caught a scent."

"Okay, what kind of a scent?" his next question immediately followed.

He hesitated before answering, alert eyes still scanning the trees; something in his tone darkening. He spoke carefully and slowly, as if the wrong word might set off an alarm. "I think there's someone in the woods."

Her heart skipped a beat. He was talking about her.

"What?" the green-eyed girl breathed incredulously, everyone's gazes instantly darting out to the dark forest.

The blonde glanced around at her surroundings for any possible exit. If she moved now, they would surely find her. If she stayed put, they still might. Her nails dug into the dirt behind her— she was trapped.

"Scott, is it another... you know?" the dark-haired girl inquired, uncertainty lacing her tone as she unintentionally revealed one of their names. She was obviously dancing around a vital piece of information in fear of what ears might be listening out in the woods.

     "No, I don't think so."

A beat.

"I think I see something."

She gulped; this was escalating too quickly for her liking.

"Allison, wait!"

The girl remained perfectly still, praying with all her heart she was merely imagining the footsteps rapidly approaching; squeezing her eyes shut in hopes to wake up from what was starting to feel more and more like a nightmare. But soon, she accepted it was reality, and decided running would be better than nothing.

And so, she ran.

She ran two steps.

The second she jumped to her feet and spun on her heel, she crashed into the dark-haired girl, Allison, who had apparently been responsible for the footsteps. Both of them grunted in surprise upon impact, bouncing backwards and landing on the dirt. Instantly, the three others had joined the ruckus, their eyes widening as they landed upon her.

"Oh my God! Okay, what the hell!? Who are you?!" the flannel boy spastically tossed his hands up, doing a double take as the first boy— the one they'd called Scott— helped Allison up from the ground; though none of them removed their baffled gazes from the stranger.

Frantically, the blonde propped herself onto her elbows; her panic-stricken eyes darting frenziedly between the four strangers staring down at her. Uneven breaths escaped her lips along with the rapid rise and fall of her chest.

Scott's features softened almost instantly, the boy quickly holding out his hands in attempts to calm her down.

     "Hey, woah, it's okay." he assured her sincerely, chocolate eyes sparkling with innocence that at least appeared to be truthful. "Swear." he added after a beat, when her breathing had not yet picked up a regular rhythm.

She stared at them in doubt and uncertainty for a long moment, quietude falling across the chilly road. Eventually, she pulled herself onto her bottom before hurrying to her feet, taking a few steps backwards for extra precaution. Her brows were furrowed, silently studying them just as hard as they were studying her. The girl searched for deceit amongst their gazes, scanning carefully to catch any sign of malice.

"Are you okay? What are you doing out here?" Scott asked, her ragged appearance not lost on the four of them; her untrusting stare still darting from face to face.

When she remained with her jaw tight and her lips securely sealed at his inquiry— wearing a greatly defensive expression— they all glanced to each other; unsure of how to proceed.

     The redhead cleared her throat, trying her hand at a conversation. "I'm Lydia. Can you tell me your name?" her words came out slowly and carefully, as if a faster pace or less enunciation would scare the girl away.

     Unsurprisingly, they were met with more silence. But suddenly, the four teenagers were the least of the blonde's concern; every ounce of worry shattering like glass from her mind when a horrifying realization dawned on her.

What was her name?

Her petrified gaze hit the dirt at once. There was not one morsel of knowledge, not one little crumb that might lead her to her very own name. How was it even possible she had forgotten such a thing?

The more she thought about it, the more gaping holes she discovered within her memories. She had not a clue who she was, why she was out here, or why she looked like she had just endured a brawl in the woods. It didn't help that the four people in front of her were just as confusing, their names and their clothes awfully peculiar. She'd never heard the names Scott, Lydia, or Allison before. They sounded foreign to her. Her chest was too tight to even take a deep breath, her teeth clenching so hard they would surely splinter from the pressure. She remained still as stone, terror consuming her frozen body.

"I don't think we're getting anywhere with this." Allison whispered under her breath, features contorted in conflict.

Lydia sighed in defeat, rolling her lips into her teeth and shrugging her shoulders at her friends. She crossed her arms, but her expression changed when she paused to examine her tattered attire, tilting her head to the side.

"I've never seen that kind of dress before." she mumbled, brows knitted.

"Lydia, why are you looking at the dress?" the flannel boy huffed— the only one whose name she still didn't know— in what seemed like slight irritation, words spilling from his lips at an unnecessarily quick pace.

"Because I've never seen that kind of dress before!" she exclaimed again, this time making more of an argument. "I practically invented fashion! So why would I not recognize this?"

"Maybe it has something to do with the fact that it's covered in mud and the bottom half of it is completely freakin' mutilated!" he jarred his head forward at her in a sarcastic snap, still waving his hands around as he spoke, which is something he seemed to do often.

"O-okay." Scott uneasily interjected their fruitless bickering, although Lydia still had her eyes narrowed at the mysterious clothing.He stared at the troubled blonde in sympathy for a moment longer before nodding slightly with a sigh, turning his head to the other boy. "I think we should call your dad. She's really freaked out."

"Okay." the teenager agreed after a beat.

The girl turned her head over her shoulder to observe the unfamiliar woods she had just escaped from, only halfway listening as they explained how his dad was the sheriff and that she'd be in good hands, whatever that meant. Something peculiar was stirring in her chest— as if she were leaving something out in that dark forest.

Something important.

She had been so lost in her own thoughts, looking over her shoulder, she hadn't noticed when Scott had taken enough steps over to her to close the gap between them. It wasn't until he touched her wrist, hoping to guide her over to their car, that she was aware of his nearby presence.

In the midst of her fright, it would've likely alarmed her to have the stranger so near. But the second his fingertips met her arm, proximity became an insignificant thing. He touched her skin, and a vivid burst of imagery flashed through her mind. Fleeting clips passed as a hazy blur, too obscure and rapid to get a good grasp of them. There were fangs, claws and moonlight; the echo of a booming roar. Eyes— red eyes. The whirlwind of scenery plagued her cloudy head for less than a full second, making it impossible for the girl to compute what it was she had just witnessed.

She flinched, immediately retracting her hand and blinking wildly. Before any of them had the chance to assure her she was okay, her wide eyes were meeting Scott's, and words were rushing from her lips for the first time since she'd awoken in the forest.

"Creature of the night." she declared in an epiphany, tone unwavering.

Quickly, she shook her head in surprise at her own proclamation; what did that mean? And how had she known it?

That sure grabbed their attention.

"I'm sorry, what did you just say? What did she just say?" the flannel boy slowly removed the cellphone he was holding to his ear; the device sliding down his cheek as he lost all ability to concertante on anything other than her startling statement. His hazel eyes darted between the stranger and his friends, who looked just as puzzled.

"Creature of the night." the strange words rolled off Scott's tongue. "What does that mean?"

She stood still as stone. The hell if she knew!

"Scott, are you sure she's not like you?" Allison asked again, confusing the frightened stranger even more.

"I would be able to tell. She isn't like me."

"Then how did she know that?"

There was a long interval of silence, all of them staring at her in uncertainty and wonder.

"I don't know." eventually came his honest answer, curiously narrowing his eyes and titling his head at her.

"Uhh... I wouldn't call your dad just yet." Lydia slowly told the boy with the phone, rolling her lips into her teeth as he distractedly shoved the the small device back into his pocket; not taking his wide eyes off their new discovery.

It felt like an eternity passed as all of them just stood there on the open road, trying desperately to figure out how to proceed. The girl awkwardly nudged gravel with her bare feet, pushing the small rocks around with her dirt-covered toes as she uncomfortably listened to their debate; secretly considering making a run for it. She was grasping at straws listening to their conversation, trying to gather any information she could about the four to soothe her spinning mind.

     "Well it feels wrong to call the cops after what she just said." Scott argued in a whisper.

     "Exactly. It's clear proof that she knows something." the other boy agreed.

"I don't know... she's so scared. Maybe getting the cops involved will do her good. Maybe they can help her." Allison rebutted quietly, empathy lacing her tone.

"I don't care what we do with her at this point. Drop her off at Eichen if you want—"

     "Lydia—"

     "— all I know is that tomorrow is the first day of junior year, and I still have an outfit to pick out and now a car to get towed! We can't stand here debating what to do with the runaway bride all night!" she huffed, referencing the girl's dress.

      "She has a point." Allison shrugged with a wince, Scott sighing.

     The blonde looked up from the asphalt when the hushed whispers abruptly ceased, unexpectedly meeting a pair of inquisitive hazel eyes. The flannel boy had turned around, and from the looks of it, he had an idea. She studied him closely— the wheels turning behind his eyes, the perplexity mingling with slight excitement etched into his expression, an evident plan building in his brain.

     "Lydia, come here." he muttered after a moment, not breaking their eye contact.

     "But I—"

     "You can wait five more seconds to pick out your little outfit, okay? Just come here."

     The redhead huffed in a pout when he grabbed her hand, slowly approaching the blonde as he drug her behind him. The stranger's eyes immediately widened, taking a few large steps back out of instinct; the boy holding up his free hand to calm her.

     "It's okay. We're not going to hurt you." he gently assured.

A beat passed before he took another steady and heedful step, feet tentatively testing the ground as if it would cave beneath him at too much pressure; acutely aware that this girl was a flight risk. She immediately followed suit, moving a swift stride away.

"Okay, we can stop right here for a minute." he obliged when she persisted, planting his feet firmly to show the trembling girl he would stay put; his friends watching him confusedly.

"I'm Stiles— Stilinski. These are my friends Lydia Martin, Allison Argent, and Scott McCall. We're all juniors in high school. Well, we will be, starting tomorrow. We go to Beacon Hills High school, and Scott and I are on the lacrosse team. Lydia here is basically smarter than Albert Einstein, and Allison does archery."

It didn't take long to catch onto his method; working hopefully to gain even an ounce of trust from the wary girl by giving away personal information. What his friends couldn't understand, was why he was trying to seemingly deliver Lydia to her.

"Would it be okay if we came a few steps closer?" he then requested.

The stranger may have not wholly understood what he had divulged to her— never having heard of Beacon Hills High, or a lacrosse team, or Albert Einstein— but still it had set her slightly more at ease. And so, she nodded hesitantly after a long beat.

     "What are we—" the redhead tried to ask, rolling her eyes aggravatedly when he cut her off with a whisper; not removing his gaze from the blonde.

     Miraculously, and with much trial and error, they managed to fully reach her; her blue irises drenched in uncertainty as she eyed him suspiciously up and down. They were standing before each other now, the blonde battling against the overwhelming urge to run.

     "I-I know this probably sounds weird, but... could you touch her?"

     "What?" Lydia's head snapped over to him incredulously.

"What?" Allison and Scott's voices echoed in sync behind them.

     The stranger furrowed her brows, finding it as odd as everyone else apparently did as she stayed perfectly still.

     "Just... touch her hand, or her wrist, or something. Just for a second."

     "Stiles—" Scott tried.

     "Just trust me." he assured him confidently.

     The girl stared at him for a long moment before hesitantly reaching out her hand, retracting it several times as she debated wether or not she should actually do this. Probably not. It could be a trap, right? Her muddled gaze kept shifting between the equally confused Lydia and the seemingly whack job Stiles; who was wearing an encouraging look on his face. Despite not understanding his bizarre request, she eventually gave in and allowed her fingertips to ever-so-slightly brush Lydia's hand; another image flashing through her head just like it had with Scott.

But this one was different.

This one was death.

     A grating scream made her hands automatically fly to her ears, it's earth-shattering echo rattling her skull. Horror appeared— blood, mangled carcasses, skeletons in multitudes, graveyards blanketed by a layer of eerie fog. This teenage girl, whom looked so beautiful and innocent with her emerald green eyes and luscious red hair, brought nothing but a wave of abominable darkness over the stranger.

She did not even realize she had jumped backwards when the hellish nightmare had swarmed her head until she had snapped out of it, a shuddering breath escaping her lips as her terror-filled eyes darted frantically between the two.

Lydia was no longer interested in her outfit for the first day of junior year. She flinched at the theatric reaction, still standing beside Stiles as the blonde fought to catch her breath.

"What just happened?" the light and shaky words tumbled from her plump lips, eyes promptly fearful as the stranger looked at her like if she was a monster.

"She saw something in you." Stiles declared quietly, having proved his theory. A wide-eyed Scott and Allison slowly approached to join their friends. "Just like she did with Scott."

"But I'm not a werewolf." Lydia whimpered, all of them too caught up in the sheer insanity of the moment to care she'd let the official word slip; although it seemed like the stranger somehow already knew Scott's identity anyways.

"No, but you're something. W-we've known you're something. And she knows what it is."

      "Then what does that make her?" Scott shook his head.

Stiles eyes were still glued to the stranger, brimming with utter intrigue and potent distrust and wonder so strong they could practically pluck it from the night sky. "I have no idea..." he confessed. "But we're not calling the cops."

FIRST CHAPTER EEEE!!
so so excited!
hope y'all enjoyed! <3

also i know it lowkey makes it
more difficult to understand what's
going on while she doesn't have a
name, but that will change soon!

thanks for reading!
mwah!

xoxo, cam

word count 3,978