Emerson stormed away from Charlie and his aircycle, letting out a frustrated growl.

"Emerson," he softly spoke following after her before it became louder and more urgent "Emerson!"

He grabbed her arm, and she spun around; tears already forming in her eyes.

"What? We have nothing, and she's all alone! Probably scared out of her wits, and I can't do anything about it. So what are you going to say? We'll find her? It's been weeks and not a single thing from anyone. Nobody knows anything so how are we going to find her?" She shouted.

"We will because you know her better than anyone," Charlie said evenly.

"Well I obviously don't know her well enough if I can't even find a single clue as to where she went," she said turning away.

"Are you sure there isn't some other place she would've gone? Some refuge, or something you guys used to do when you were younger?" He asked, trying to grasp some straws.

"No! I've been everywhere we've ever gone to more than once or loved the first time we went. There's nothing anywhere! It's like she disappeared," Emerson whispered.

Charlie held her hands in his, "If you were Tamara, where would you go if you felt like your world was ending?"

"She'd come to me, and we'd meet in the forest," she whispered. "The forest. THE FOREST!"

Emerson's voice boomed down the street, and she didn't hesitate before sprinting across the street and through the outskirts of the town. Charlie struggled to keep up since he didn't know where they were going.

Emerson tuned everything out, until it was just her and the sounds of her feet smacking the ground. She turned down the path she knew by heart and then she was outside of the rickety old shack.

Tamara and her brothers worked on it for ages. They made it for Emerson's ninth birthday, and it was her favorite gift she'd ever received. They'd hang out there for hours everyday, until the days turned into weeks, months, then years, and then only unless it was an emergency meeting.

Memories of them playing cops and robbers, protect the Queen/King, and Mr. Blind Man came rushing back to her. Tamara sprinting to catch her brothers, Emerson in the background watching. Then the time when Ethan played and didn't care about Stains or anything like that. When everything used was perfect.

Then Charlie's hand rubbing her back brought her back to the present. She stepped forward, taking his hand, and they both entered the shack.

~~~

Inside was a cluttered mess of old camera's and bikes. Pictures that were still developing or were already developed were scattered around the place like someone was rampaging through the room. Muddy foot prints and leavers littered the floor.

Emerson couldn't help but shout, "Tamara!"

Charlie placed a hand on her shoulder, and stepped in front of her.

"Someone's still in here," he whispered.

Emerson waited for him to continue.

"I don't think it's Tamara," he started, but didn't finish before he fell to the floor. He was clutching his side as he groaned in pain.

The cloaked figure started kicking him, as he tried desperately to curl into a ball. Emerson watched in unfold with a blinding rage.

"Stop!" She yelled, and the figure looked up.

Charlie was down on the ground, still from the blows to the head and ribs. The figure finally took notice of Emerson. It took a few big steps towards her, but Emerson didn't back away until it was only a few feet in front of her.

"You have no business being here," the deep voice growled.

It was a man's voice.

"I have every right to be here, probably more than you. This is my property, and you're trespassing!" She said, her voice carrying throughout the room making it seem as though she wasn't scared; she was petrified.

The man started laughing, which caused Emerson to narrow her eyes. Charlie started standing up, and the man turned around, smashing something against Charlie's head. Blood started flowing from the wound and Charlie collapsed.

Emerson's hands turned into fists and she never felt such a deep hatred for someone who wasn't her father.

"Where's Tamara!" She screamed at the man.

"Somewhere," he said with a dark laugh, as he pulled out a dagger. "Scream, and he's dead."

Emerson instinctively imagined his face was in her left hand and she crushed her fingers into a tight fist. A blinding white light flashed like a camera and they all dropped to the floor as a loud siren wail filled the room.

~~~

Emerson's eyes fluttered open and she met Charlie's eyes.

"Good, you're up," he whispered quietly.

They both looked at the man crumpled on the floor, and Emerson ran over to him. She hesitated for a split second before touching the man's cloak. His hand grabbed Emerson's wrist, and she screamed.

"Get off her!" Charlie yelled running to charge the crumpled man.

"I know what you are," he said with a twisted smile, digging his hands into her wrist. 

She felt a searing pain in her arm as he squeezed tighter. Emerson gritted her teeth as she winced through the pain. It stopped when Charlie kicked the man in the head.

"What was that? What just happened? How does he know you?" He shouted, running his hands through his hair as he paced the floorboards.

"I don't know," she whispered, clutching her wrist and rubbing it. She zoned in on empty points in the room, the man's voice still echoing through her mind; I know what you are, I know what you are, I know what you are.

"What was the flashes and the siren?" Charlie asked, still ranting as he paced.

"I don't know," she whispered.

"Is your wrist okay?" He asked, bending down and removing her hand from clutching it.

There, in the middle of her wrist by her veins, a symbol was branded. It was a picture of a thunderstorm; the leaves on the trees were inside out, wind blowing the branches one way, and at the bottom of the clearing was a circle of rocks. The middle an alter were two hands were  palm side up, and above the left was a dark storm cloud, the right a heart from your body.

"Oh my God," Charlie breathed out, dropping her hand. He was covering his face with his hand as he started backing away like she was a lion ready to attack.

The girl stood up, "I didn't do anything. I swear!"

Charlie bolted, and Emerson watched his retreating figure. The man's words still echoing through her mind; I know what you are. I know what you are. I know what you are. I know what you are. I know what you are.

Not who, but what.

He had to mean she was a Stain, right? What else could she be?

A/N: Wow. That happened. Creepy guy, creepy cloak, creepy marking.

What does the marking mean?

How do you feel about Charlie now?

Creepy guy?

What does he mean about Emerson?

What happened to Tamara?

What would you have done?

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AND STAY BEAUTIFUL!!! THANKS FOR READING!!! ;)

~Tapqueen101