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All small towns have their own sets of tales, their own legends passed down through generations.
Angel Grove is no different.
In the halls at school, Trini overhears tales of something named Rita, a creature with emerald green eyes and hair, golden claws and fangs, a creature that slips into homes and tears the inhabitants apart or makes them vanish.
Naturally, she writes it all off as bullshit.
But in the four months that pass after her family settles in, no less than five people are murdered in their homes. Despite the carnage, the scattered limbs and viscera, the scenes are almost entirely devoid of blood.
Four others disappear without a trace.
Still, even while the rumors and tales continue to make the rounds, Trini discounts them all. If anything, Angel Grove just has a clever serial killer running around. In that respect, it's no different than thousands of other towns scattered across the country.
But three days before Christmas, she wakes up to a gentle, cool breeze rustling her sheets, a wind that shouldn't be in her room, because her window has been locked for weeks.
When she blinks open her eyes, she finds herself staring into an inhumanely pale face, hovering mere inches above her. Even in the dark, she can see green eyes glimmering like gemstones, can see golden fangs protruding from a gaping mouth.
There's something sharp pressing into her neck.
"Hello, Trini." The words hiss against her face, and Trini's throat goes dry.
"Hello, Rita."