• Once upon a time in a dreary place beyond the nightmares of young children lived a small little girl in a rather depressing little era. Where the sun seemed to go to sleep without warning and the stars burned brighter than any flame. In the desperate months of a pitiful drought a spiteful King would lock his Palace doors and enjoy a fruitful harvest from countries other than his own whilst his subjects were left to rott in their numbers outside his Palace Doors. A disease struck the land with a terrible hand of death, with every household suffering greatly the village seemed all but doomed. Running from the pestilence was futile as from Husband it crept to Wife and from Wife it crept to Child. Within a week of one family member catching the pestilence so had the whole family. This fragile little girl that our story began with is a weak little runt who had nothing but a doll and the clothes on her back. With straggly dark hair and brutal green eyes she was somewhat disturbing and most hauntingly mesmerising. With every death the child seemed to grow more interested in the disease but no matter how she poked and proded the vile corpses on the sides of the streets she could not catch the illness.

    Soon the subjects had been wittled down to less than twenty remaining and all dreadly ill except the girl. With both her parents dead and her younger brother missing she crept unto the Palace and starred at the golden doors before her. She knocked loudly to draw attention.
    "Whos there?" cried a voice.
    "Alone," croaked the girl.
    "You can not be called alone!" cried another voice.
    "Open up or I'm coming in" smirked the girl.
    "We will not let you in you wilthy peasent," cried the first voice.
    "Then I will come tonight, tonight at midnight I will come. Come to show you what you've done. Come to show you all your sin," smiled the girl. Then she walked away clutching her little doll tightly.