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Shyanne walked gloomily around the Arcade village park in New York. She was there to visit her father for the
A child's song
weekend. Her father did not pay much attention to her at all. He thought of her visits as "babysitting" for Shyanne's mother. He didn't seem to care where she went or what she did, and today, she had decided to be here.

Living in South Carolina, she didn't know what to expect in this insignificant little town. She felt as if she was the only one in the whole park that was as ignorant as she was, not knowing anything about the town or it's people, like everybody else seemed to. Yes, Arcade was incomparable to her home in Alcolu, but she knew she'd get used to it. Eventually.

She strutted around the baseball field way back near the little strip of woodland. She looked down in wonder and disbelief at the unkempt grass. The grass was questionably long, reaching past her ankles and no more than four inches higher. She looked around at the fatigued park. A few small children were swinging down at the smaller playground a few hundred yards away from the large one, which was bare except for a girl sitting on the swing. She was not swinging. She pressed her shoe fronts into the gravel and just... sat there. Somehow, she looked... static. Her hair was white and brittle looking, as if she had not used any shampoo in awhile.

She took a quick glance towards the woods. She followed the noise of rushing water until she found a dirt trail, leading to a place she never knew was there. There were large boulders in the middle of a sparkling creek right in front of her. She never knew there was a creek in Arcade. She breathed in at the dreadful, yet beautiful sight. She was far from her dad's house now, and tried to turn back. But she just couldn't. The beauty of the nature around her seemed too much for her eyes to see at one time. A joyful smirk broke out on her face, and It disappeared as quickly as it came. She ran down the creek, further and further... deeper into the forest with every yard she ran. her gray jeans were soaked up past her knees, and as she got wetter and wetter, it got colder and darker faster than she could think to notice.

Suddenly, she seemed very shaken, as if she felt an uneasy presence. It was becoming darker as she went. Cautiously, she turned back to get home. She climbed carefully over a large obstruction of branches and fallen trees. Shyanne barely got across without a broken leg. So many holes in the pile that she could've fallen through, into the dark water below her...

All too quickly, a log slipped out from under her, causing her to lose her footing. She crashed into the stream below her feet, landing facedown in the dark, icy water. With her entire head underwater, she struggled and flailed to escape the current. But she was alone. Nobody heard her muffled cries. Finally, she got brave enough to open her eyes, even though she was still laying facedown in the creek. Afterwards, she practically had a spaz attack right then and there. All she saw was red. She couldn't move. She couldn't even open her mouth to scream. Her eyes widened, and she became still, as though paranoid that something in the darkness was watching her. Using all her strength, she lifted her head. She saw nothing. Nothing but the branches around her. Her vision was clouded with blood, which was gushing from a deep puncture wound above her eyebrow. The current crashed against her shoulders. Her head went under again.

she saw more red... and more... it got darker and darker, until it became completely black. Her head shot out of the water again. She crawled up onto the rocks. Exhausted, she collapsed onto her back.

Weakly shaking, she slowed to a crouch. she shot glances all around her, seeing nothing but stars. Literally, stars. It was probably around midnight at the time. Of course, Shyanne had no way of knowing the time, nor did she care.

Shyanne stood up carefully, her wet brown hair clinging to her shoulders with water and blood. She looked to her feet all the time she walked. She would've ran, but she was too weak...too weak to do anything.

She lay down on the stones. It was the most uncomfortable feeling she'd ever felt in her life. She tossed and turned uneasily, sitting up every once in a while just to keep alert for a sign of the nearest possible civilization.

She was so alone in the world at this moment. Her cries were unheard...In the dead of night, she was completely unseen...and she had an awful feeling that someone was watching her. She did not want to be alone anymore... She began to sob softly into her arms. Then something happened that made her heart stop.

She stopped sobbing instantly and listened with horror. Her heart beat faster with dread and shock.

She heard sobbing, also...

The sobs were soft at first, like hers. They were delicate, like a child's. The sobs she heard were filled with...with something...they sounded like hers, but somehow... they were different. They were filled with grief.

It was like Squidward's Suicide all over again. The sobs became louder...more violent with every passing second. They sounded strained...tortured. The sobs elevated to a complete agonizing wail. The wail faded ever so slowly to a scream. And then...There was laughter.

Maniacal, sadistic laughter...

her eyes squeezed shut as tight as she could possibly close them. She rocked back and forth in a fetal position, dreading the next means of torture the person could cook up next.

But was it a person? Was it? It could be a ghost, a demon, or...

She instantly stopped wondering.

Suddenly, she heard music. Just a single voice, completely alone, just like her. She had never experienced anything quite like this before, except in a time like this...in complete darkness, completely alone. She wished she had her cat to hold...or her mother...or father...well, anyone. It did not matter to her at the time. She needed someone, that was that.

Horrified and intrigued at the same time, she forced herself to listen to the voice. The voice started out small and weak, once again like a delicate child's. It got deeper and deeper as it sang, until it sounded about 13 years of age. It sang a song she had never heard before...

"Where are the ropes that bind us so close? Into the river I go, so displeased... Wandering, listening, stalking the ones , All that refuse to obey be deceased... Ruins of mankind, life is a myth, this place will not soon be invaded... Bloodshed of the elms' youthful mist... This small marking of life I've created..."

It was a very sad, beautiful song, but at the same time it horrified her. She shot her eyes open forcefully and looked around her. Through the weeds, she saw a pale, white, feminine figure. She looked much younger than she probably was. She looked about 5 or 6, in fact.

Her hair was snow - white.

She was horrified at the sight of her. She wore a black, layered skirt, black gloves, and a hoodie. She slowly craned her head to look at her. That was when she saw her face for the first time.

As the figure looked at her, her lips shaped into a twisted, sadistic smile. It came at her slowly. She was far too afraid to move.

The figure leaned so close to Shyanne's face that she could feel her cold breath on her ear.

"Leave," the figure whispered simply. It was such a simple phrase... but it said this with such a cold, icy tone in its voice that Shyanne couldn't help but flinch.

But even after saying this, it did not give her a chance. The mysterious little girl pinned Shyanne down with her gloved hands wrapped around her throat. Shyanne gasped in pain, wondering how such a small child could be so much stronger than she was.

The girl drew her hands from her neck. Scarlet blood dripped from silver claws sewn into her gloves where her calisis should've been. That sadistic smile passed her face again.

Shyanne watched helplessly as the little girl reached into her hoodie pocket and pulled out a long, sharp kitchen knife. With that twisted smile still on her face, she grabbed Shyanne's wrists and carved large crosses into both of them, giggling as she did so.

Shyanne let out an agonizing wail of pain as here wrists bled. Tears came to her eyes. Her throat burned like a gas stove.

The child put a finger to Shyanne's lips.

"Shhhh... nobody can save you," she said, shaking her head with a joyful expression on her pale, youthful face.

Shyanne gasped in shock. The girl's finger against her lips were as cold as pure ice. It felt as if her blood had frozen. All the hairs on her body rose as goosebumps formed on her thin arms, elevating the pain in her wrists, making them feel frostbitten as well.

Then it all went dark.

The little girl walked away completely carelessly, laughing maniacally, leaving Shyanne behind to rot in the dirt.

No evidence of the killer's identity have been found. Shyanne was buried in the local cemetery, entire family gone missing. She would die alone, without her family beside her grave.

Her father's disappearance is still under investigation.

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