A/N ~ Hey, my fellow gatherers of secrets! So a few notes about this story: some characters will be from canon, but it will be up to you (the reader) to figure out which ones they are. Also, even though this is set in the future, most of the tech & science will still be how it is now, with a few changes. Just don't expect anything too major.

Disclaimer: I do not own Warehouse 13, Claudia Donovan, or Steve Jinks. But do I own a Tesla? *sigh of disappointment* no...

2032

Washington, D.C.

Adelaide Wuornos's POV

"Hello." I said, as I walked onto the crime scene. "Agent Adelaide Wuornos, FBI."

One of the lab techs looked up at me and smiled. I had always had a soft spot for forensic scientists, ever since I was a little girl...

I shook my head, clearing my brain of past memories.

"So what've we got?" I asked.

The tech looked at me in surprise. "Go talk to your partner, Adelaide." she said, and I laughed.

"You mean he's actually early for once?" I asked, surprised.

My partner, FBI Agent Pat Greene chuckled at me as he walked over. "Very funny, Wuornos." he said, giving me a dirty look.

"You know its true." I retorted, shoving him slightly, before turning my attention back to the case at hand. "So what've we got?"

Pat checked his notes.

"Three dead, some witnesses, but no survivors." he said.

"All strangled?" I asked, & Pat nodded.

"Just like the other three scenes." he confirmed grimly.

I sighed. "Fantastic. And we still have no clues as to what could be doing this?"

The CSI tech shook her head.

I cursed under my breath, then I raised my voice so that everyone at the scene could hear me.

"Alright, everyone, let's pack it up!" I shouted, then watched as the techs hurried into action.

No one's P.O.V.

Meanwhile, hidden in the shadows of a nearby building stood the silhouette of a man, who was watching the officers milling around the crime scene. If you could move close enough so that you could see the man without having him see you, you would see the figure of a relatively attractive man, somewhere from his mid- to late fifties, with a sandy brown buzz cut, sprinkled with white; slight wrinkles on his face, and icy-blue eyes. Making sure that no one saw him, the man moved so that he was hidden from sight, before pulling an old-fashioned cigarette case from a large black leather bag. Opening it, he twisted a dial or two, then smiled as the screen fizzed slightly before showing the image of a young woman, in her mid twenties. Her hair was pulled into an elaborate updo, and smokey eyeshadow accentuated her brown eyes.

"What's up, Jinksy?" she asked.

"Ms. Donovan." Steven Jinks said, smirking when the woman in question rolled her eyes.

"Really? I mean, really, Jinksy? Look, I'm not Mrs F. I'm not gonna glare you to death."

"Fine." the older man acquiesced. "Is there a way to get me in on this investigation, or am I going to have to do this one the old-fashioned way?"

Ms. Donovan raised an eyebrow. "Well, I always have loved the old- fashioned things. " she said, giving him a predatory smile. "Anything else?"

Jinks's smile faded. "Don't know yet. I'll call you if I run into anything." he finished, before closing the Farnsworth and going back to work.

Later that night...

Adelaide's P.O.V.

I was exhausted. Processing the crime scene from this morning had taken up most of the day, and taking witness statements took up the rest of it. As I got onto the subway that night, to head back to my apartment, I was still pondering the one fact that every witness statement had that was the same: a strange man lurking around the scene mere moments after the attacks occurred.

I was so busy thinking about that that I didn't even notice the other people in the car - there were only three or four - or that something was slithering along the floor of the subway car until it was too late.

"Hey! Watch it!" I said irritably as a man crashed into me. My irritation quickly turned to concern when he fell onto the floor, hands scrabbling at his neck.

"Sir?" I asked, dropping to my knees beside him. "Sir, can you hear me?"

The man nodded, his face turning an even darker shade of purple than what it had been mere moments earlier, even as he continued to try and rip off the scarf that he was wearing. I tried to help him get it off, but it almost seemed to be growing tighter around his neck the more we fought it. Finally, the man slumped over, dead.

A sob stuck in my throat at the realization that I couldn't save him.

"There's no way this day could get any worse." I thought sadly, my eyes filling with tears as I looked at the dead man laying next to me.

Of course, I spoke too soon.

Somehow, the scarf that had caused the man's death began to move.

I was so shocked, that I just sat there and stared at it for awhile, until it reached my neck.

That's when I started to panic.

"No, no, no." I started to cry. "No, stop it, somebody help me!" I pleaded, looking around at the car's other occupants, only to realize that they were all dead as well.

The scarf kept growing tighter and tighter around my neck, cutting off the flow of oxygen. Spots were dancing in my eyes, and I could barely think.

Yet somehow, instinct got me moving, even though I had no clue where I was going. I got the subway car doors to open somehow, and stumbled out into the tunnels, just in time to pass out.

As everything turned to black, I could just barely make out a figure heading my way...

A/N~ CLIFFY! Don't worry, though, my dear agents, you shouldn't have to wait long for a resolution to this cliffhanger. Please review, as reviews mean more desire to continue writing!

Keep the Faith.