A/N: I do not own any characters or anything involved with the Lost Boys obviously. I only love the movie and Kiefer Sutherland's character, like a lot of people I'm sure. :) Hope you enjoy this story.

One of Us

Prologue:

I was twenty years old when my mother decided it was best for us to move to Santa Carla, away from my father. It had reached a stage of constant fighting for them and they couldn't bear to be alone in the same room without having disagreements. I remember it clearly; my little sister Susie was sitting in the leather armchair in the hallway, a book in her trembling, small hands and a worried expression on her little face. I couldn't blame her for being worried. You could hear them in the other room through the walls:

"I can't take this anymore..."

"You want to leave, fine. There's the door, sweetheart."

My father was very angry. What came next was a lot of thumping noises and the clatter of silverware being thrown around the kitchen. Although I miss my father greatly, it was the best thing my mother ever did. So, this brings me to our story. It was a five hour drive and Susie was growing restless in her seat. She still hadn't mastered the art of giving mom an easy time. We pulled up into a service station and went into the small diner.

There weren't many customers there, about four or five. The owner was an old man who smelt of gasoline and salt water. Susie ordered a chocolate milkshake with a side order of fries and I ordered a glass of soda. We sat on one of the red vinyl seats by the window so we could take in the view, or lack thereof.

"You'll enjoy it here, ma'am," the owner was telling my mother as he sat the plate and our drinks on the table. I would never tell Susie this, mainly because she was too young to understand what it meant, but it looked like the owner was flirting with her. I tried my hardest not to smile at that.

After a while he got to talking about some of the regular customers around here and that's when they pulled up. There were five of them, perched on the seats of their motorcycles and flying into the parking lot, their engines roaring. They had the whole James Dean look about them, as though they thought flying around on a motorcycle was the safest thing to do.

He admitted it was awkward and difficult with the boys around, but he said the trick was to treat them like everyone else. I think deep down inside he pitied them. He said how they had no mother but fell silent as soon as they came bustling into the diner, the doorbell jingling.

My mother was all of a sudden in a rush to get out of the diner. I presumed it was because some of the boys were screaming expletives and she was always cautious with her language around Susie. We gathered our things and I was halfway toward the door when he looked at me.

He had blond hair, combed back in an unusual-looking style. He had a toothpick between his lips and looked like he needed a shave. The thing that terrified me the most was his eyes; cold slate blue eyes that seemed to hold me in. I couldn't look away from him and it seemed as if they could see right through to the back of my brain.

He smirked, the corner of his mouth pulling slightly upward as he looked me up and down with appraising eyes and I knew I had to look away from his gaze right then. My mother gave me a disapproving look, as though she saw the whole thing, and made her way out of the door, holding Susie in her arms.

One of the boys hissed at me as I opened the door to follow my mother, a very strange thing and one of the elderly customers flinched at the sound, spilling her drink all over herself. It was very bizarre. All the customers seemed to tense and fall quiet when they entered the room. I wondered idly how much influence they had over the people in this town.

The house we were staying at was very old, with yellow paint crackling at the veneers and dead, brown leaves scattered in the garden. My mother said the house had "a lot of character". There was a fair coming up that week on the Boardwalk and my mother was very enthusiastic about me taking Susie and, hopefully, making some new friends. I wasn't particularly excited about that prospect but I decided to take Susie anyway.

Susie was bouncing around and couldn't stand still when we were waiting in line. It was very crowded. There were clusters of families with their children, buying fairy floss and going on the scariest rides. Susie wanted a Coke so I bought her one from the stall, using my allowance money.

I wanted to sit down for a while so she could drink it properly without spilling it all over herself but I didn't want to be a killjoy. We walked slowly through the crowd, following where everyone was walking to. Susie wanted to go on the carousel so I held her drink for her and watched her. Her feet could barely touch the ground.

I sit in one of the benches, watching her face get even more excited every time the ride did a turn. That's when I saw him, the boy from the diner, the blond one. He was standing by the carousel, watching very closely as the children spun round and round. I saw him look at Susie a few times, fleetingly. Every time he did it made my blood boil.

I hadn't noticed the ride had finished, but my sister was already walking through the opposite sides of the gate, ambling along, unsure of where she would find me. I imagined her to be crying, her lips trembling as she searched the unfamiliar faces through the crowd as I quickly went to meet her on the other side, only the boy had already beat me. He was saying something to her, and her little mind must have been full of indecision.

I rush over to her and take her hand. She looks immediately relieved when she sees me and takes her Coke, stuffing the straw into her mouth and taking a generous suck. I look up and realize the boy has already started walking away, strutting ahead of us. He disappeared quickly through the crowd.

Susie and I started walking slowly and I decide to get her something for dinner. It seemed like the suitable thing to do. I wait patiently near the stalls, my aloneness becoming apparent, magnified, as I realize Susie isn't with me anymore. I look around me hurriedly, turning on the spot several times.

I hear little children laughing, playing with their toys and food. I don't see any of Susie anywhere, but then I realize the scene is almost too familiar; she's with him. What does he want from her, my little sister? I'm halfway toward them when I hear them deep in conversation; at least it's mostly him doing all the talking. Susie is preoccupied sucking her straw to comprehend what he is saying and, more importantly, that he is stranger danger.

He kneels down next to my little sister, the ends of his black coat flapping in the wind. "How is that blood?" he asks her, and a sickening shiver overtakes me that had nothing to do with the chilly wind.

My mother had always stressed to us the importance of not speaking to strangers, but it's as if my sister completely reverted. He could have been a stray dog baring its wet, shiny canines and she still would have taken the moment to reach out to him without hesitation.

"Huh?" she says shyly, her little face puckered and scrunched up in confusion.

He gestures toward the Coke can she's gripping tightly in her hands. "Blood," he repeats with an expression of mirth, leaning in closer. "You're drinking blood. How does it taste?"

Of course, Susie didn't know any different. Then, as a five year old, you couldn't tell who was being friendly or who was being downright strange. All I knew was the impression I got of him merely by watching him from afar; he was certainly dangerous just by the look of him, how he'd strut around the grounds, weaving in and out of the crowds of screeching and squirming children and families as if he owned the damned place.

A shimmer of laughter breaks into the air from a group of bare-chested kids near the hotdog stand. The sound startles me and diverts my attention for a moment. When I look back over at my little sister, I stand there for a moment watching, not thinking, and not breathing. There's something red and shiny dribbling down her chin. I rush over to her, ignoring the boy and using the napkin in my hand to daub at her chin. She looks up at me confusedly as I take her arm and pull her closer to me.

The boy laughs and there's something cruel and knowing in his laugh. He stands, looming over me in height. He's much more intimidating when looking directly at you. His slate blue eyes seemed to go all the way through me and he looks at me with such a high level of intensity that it starts to unnerve me.

He smirks; it softening the harsh look of his face slightly. "Is this your little sister?" he asks, his voice coming out rasping and low.

I look into his blue eyes surrounded by laugh lines and tell him the truth. "Yes. We've only just moved here. Susie likes the fair. Tonight was my treat." I crumple the used napkin between my fingers, glancing over my shoulder for any sign of a trashcan. When I turn back I realize the boy is staring intently at my little sister now.

"It was only Coke, Susie," he says emphatically and I tighten my hold on her arm.

Susie shrinks away from him, silently flinging her arms around my hips and burying her face from sight. He doesn't look offended by this, but he doesn't look impressed either. I try my hardest not to smile in satisfaction over this as I imagine my mother speaking: "Good girl. Don't talk to strangers now, dear."

"I think we should go home now," I say to him, only it comes out more like a question than an actual farewell to end conversation.

He glances at something or someone behind his shoulder then meets my gaze again. "Now?" he repeats, raising his eyebrows. "But the fun has yet to begun. You don't wanna miss out on the best part, do you?"

I let my eyes travel down the slight, litheness of his body that his dark coat and clothes seemed to accentuate, the collar of his coat unbuttoned loosely enough that I could see the muscles in his neck through the fair, lightness of his skin. Everything about him seemed threatening, the way he walked to the way he talked, but he was also redolent of longing, freedom, fearlessness of death and danger, as though he was undying and everlasting, immortal.

I shake my head. "Oh, no, I don't think we will stay," I say at last, looking down at Susie who is now peeking up at the boy with an expression of curiosity that must so mirror my own.

Even I can notice the disappointment on the boy's face. "Come on," he says softly, touching my arm confidentially and causing Susie to swivel behind my legs. "I've met your sister, now I want you to meet my brothers."

I think about it for a moment. My mother certainly wouldn't be happy if she found out about this. Susie would confess the whole ordeal to her as soon as we got home. I look down at my watch; it's 10.45. Our curfew is 11.00. The boy is watching me expectantly, waiting, and before I can answer, he takes my hand and pulls me along. I tighten my hold on Susie's wrist and she stumbles along with me.

I don't know where he's taking me, but all I know is that holding my hand, he has a delicate touch. It isn't something you would expect from a boy who seems so brazen and startling. We are far from the fairgrounds now. The only light is the weak, dim light coming from the moonlight and I look down at Susie to discover her face is shining wet with tears. She's crying and it was then that I realized the whole thing was a very big mistake.

The boy all of a sudden lets go of my hand and Susie collides into my legs, shivering. I can barely make out her profile, or the boy's. I start to wonder idly where he has disappeared off to, but I'm more concerned over the fact that my sisters upset. Tears are leaking out of her eyes.

"It's okay little Susie," I whisper to her, pulling her close to me. "Hush." She flings her arms silently around my neck and I lift her up, her warm face buried into my neck. I feel around on the ground with my free hand, the other holding her to me tightly, feeling sticky wet strands of grass and dirt.

My mother would hold me in contempt for doing this to poor Susie. I didn't know what I was thinking, trusting this stranger so wholly and completely, regardless of the fact that he gave me the jeepers.

I suddenly feel something stroke my hair, a hand perhaps? I swivel around in the direction it came from and hear someone say, "Don't let me startle you, Ruby." It's the boy again. And it's pitch-dark out here, I am not aware of our surroundings and, of course, he startled me.

It was then that I realized this was weird. I had told him Susie's name, but I don't recall ever telling him mine. I can't see him through the darkness and I start to panic, my chest rising and falling and my body heavy with the weight of my sister in my arms. What did he mean by the word brothers? Of course, it was logical to assume he meant it at face value, but the fact that I wasn't so certain terrified me.

"Your brothers?" I brought myself to ask, my voice shaking.

My ears are freezing and I could almost make out the fog of my breath in the dim moonlight. Susie is motionless in my arms. I start to reluctantly wonder if she has been frozen to death.

"Paul," I hear a deep voice say, another boy's voice, ahead of me.

"Marko," another says to my right.

"Dwayne," a lower voice says from right behind me, laughter evident in his voice.

They were all fairly common names; I wasn't certain why that surprised me. But there were four of them – the boy who I met earlier, his name he hadn't mentioned yet - and only two of us. I doubted Susie would be included in any of this. I start getting myself worked up over horrifying theories, replaying in my mind what they could do to me. Would they gang rape me? Torture me? All the possibilities were endless but there was no way I would ever ask them. I wouldn't want to encourage or provoke them.

"Who wants to go first?" I hear the boy say ceremoniously.

Something touches my hair again and I turn wildly on the spot, my breath hitching in my throat. The noise of Susie is becoming apparent now and I can hear her breathing strenuously and sobbing into my blouse. Someone laughs; high-pitched spooky laughter that resounds painfully in my ears and echoes slightly through the air.

"W-w-what's going on?" I ask, using my free hand and reaching out blindly.

"Ruby wants to know what's goin' on," the boy with the deep voice, Dwayne, says in a mocking voice.

"What is going on?" the boy, who I assume is named Marko, says with a hint of confusion clear in his tone.

At last my hand finds something, a soft material, someone's shirt and my hand instinctively bunches it up into my fist. The boy comes into view, the one from earlier, his skin ghostly pale in the moonlight. I realize our faces must be barely inches away from each other due to my poor eyesight, but at that moment I don't care.

"Please let us go," I plead firmly, trying to keep my voice calm for Susie's sake.

He leans forward and puts his mouth near my ear. "We're not holding you captive, Ruby," he says quietly. "You can run. You only need to make sure we don't catch up to you..."

"Wishful thinking," one of the guys laugh.

"We'll give you a head start," he breathes in my ear, his voice rasping. "That's the most generosity you're gonna get from us." I try to steady my breathing. "If we catch up, where you'll be going is with us. If not, we'll let you go free..."

It sounded easy, but I wasn't that naive to believe it. "Okay," I agree, letting go of his shirt and holding Susie tighter to my chest. I run. I run, my chest rising and falling, my breathing increasing with every step I take. I ignore the voices around me, the jibes, the calling of my name. This is life or death. For Susie's sake, anyway.

I go crashing through the gate, the lights of the fairground coming into view. I weave my way through the crowd of careless, oblivious families, never slowing to catch my breath or to mutter some kind of reassurance to Susie. I stop near the hotdog stand, clutching the wall for support and breathing in and out slowly. I close my eyes. The voices in my head are getting softer and more distant. I try to decode them: "Join us, Ruby" or "Be one of us..."

I open my eyes and look down at Susie, her cheeks wet with tears. I kiss her forehead, gasping as a voice right near me says, "My blood is in her veins. She's one of us now."