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Prologue

-- Germany, Late March 2008 --

I couldn't believe my luck. I had drawn the short straw again. The tour bus was sitting on the side of the road and I was the dumb schmuck that had been thrown outside in the cold to stomp through a damn forest in search of a gas station.

The shoestrings on my sneakers had come untied about five minutes ago, but I had been too lazy (and admittedly scared) to stop and tie them. I felt like I was being watched. My breath came out in quick, sporadic puffs. My pulse throbbed in my ear.

I walked a little faster.

Every sound was magnified around me. My right foot snapped a twig in half. Something rustled in a bush behind me.

"Holy--" I muttered. I sped up a little more. I ducked underneath a spiderweb.

The sun had disappeared about a half hour ago. A large yellow moon was drifting up in the night sky. It was a full moon. I shivered. My hoodie suddenly didn't seem near as warm as it did when J had pushed me down the bus steps.

I missed the days when we could afford private jets and busses so fancy that we could have had 24-karat gold toilet seats if we wanted them. Instead, Howie, AJ, and I were crammed onto one bus while Team Littrell coasted in semi-comfort in the other bus. We had gotten separated; our driver was new and didn't speak a lick of English. Team Littrell had taken the right ramp. Team Dumb-shits had gotten lost in what appeared to be a dark Grimms Fairytale.

"It's okay," I said to myself. I crunched another twig. "I'll find a gas station. I'll get a Snickers bar. Maybe they make 'em with German chocolate here. I'll--"

I paused. The feeling that I wasn't alone intensified. My chest constricted. All around me the trees surrounded me with a black velvet of heavy hung leaves. Even though I was cold, a thin line of sweat trickled from my hairline.

My fight or flight instinct kicked in. I chose flight. I took off, running out of my sneakers in the process. The socks were no match for the rough forest floor. I felt ever little poke of a branch or sharp jab of a rock. But I didn't stop.

The terrifying growl from behind me was solid proof that I had become a target. A bear or some other large, vicious forest creature wanted a slab of Nick Carter for dinner. The thought caused a bone-chilling scream to erupt from my mouth.

Whatever was behind me was faster than me. Much faster. I swung around a tree and barely missed a low-hung branch. I leaned forward and put forth a burst of speed. I felt like my heart was going to tear right ouf of my chest. My eyes filled with cold sweat. I thought I could see something, perhaps a little light up ahead. Maybe...maybe I would get to a road. Maybe...

My sock caught on something sharp. An intense pain tore through the bottom of my foot. I lunged forward and hit the hard packed dirt. My nails clawed at the bare earth. The heavy sound of fast approaching feet echoed all around.

The thing was on me in no time. The smell made me nauseous. It was a combination of wet hair, blood, and savagery. I rolled on my back and stared up. I almost passed out right then.

It wasn't a bear. It wasn't a wolf. I had never seen anything like it in real life. The thing I was looking at was only supposed to exist in the movies. A huge glob of saliva dripped from its mouth. I could see the reflection of the moon in its yellow eyes. It sniffed my body; I was frozen in terror. There was a pause and then the head flew back and a loud, excited howl rent the air. I staggered backward. It sensed my movement. It wasted no time.

The sharp claws tore my shirt and flesh as if they were one. My body went into instant shock; strangely enough, my body temperature soared so high I was sure my skin was melting. My own blood dripped over my fingers. As I began to shake, there was a vague realization that I was being dragged.

My head bounced helplessly; my jaw was slack. The last thing I remember is the sight of the big round moon turning red.

Blood red.