"There was once a girl who was obsessed with drama. It was her life. She got so into it they say she went insane. She started wearing one of those drama masks and would go out, in the streets, and start miming. People would look at her as if she was nuts. One day, she got so into character while doing another of her drama acts, she accidentally killed someone. But when this happened, she realized how much she loved it. She loved the fear in people's eyes and the blood, stained on her white skirt. She ran, far away, clutching her mask close to her chest, laughing like a maniac. She ran until she found a house, here in this neighbourhood. She hid her mask in the attic of one of the houses, and ran out into the streets, performing her act again, only this time, breaking into one of the houses. She kept doing this until the police came. She tried to run, but they shot her. But, even with their attempt to save her, she died. They say her mask is still in one of these houses, and her spirit haunts the mask, in hopes of claiming a body as her own, to continue her act again." This was the story Hannah heard over and over again. She never believed it.
One day she decided to go up to her attic to try and find her old toys so she could sell them at a garage sale organized by her older sister. As she was up there, she found a mask. Not just any mask. A drama mask. She stared at it and could have sworn she heard whispering. The words she could hardly hear almost sounded like it was calling to her. Telling her to take the mask and try it on. She shook it off as part of her telling her it would be fun. As she was collecting her old toys she found an old mirror. She decided that it would be no harm in trying on the mask and seeing what it looks like. So she walked over to where the mask was laying and picked it up. As she put it on she felt something go through her mind. When she looked at herself in the mirror, she started laughing. Laughing like a maniac. She took off the mask and watched herself transform. She laughed so hard her sides hurt and she could breath. Finally, she calmed down and looked at herself in the mirror again. Her smile grew as she saw herself. She had pale, almost white skin, a red tear under her left eye. Over her left eye and under her right one were red triangles. She had black hair and the tips of her hair were red. Her eyes where completely white with red pupils. She wore a checkered white and black short sleeve shirt with drama masks here and there. Under the shirt was a long sleeve silk shirt, that poofed out at the wrist, covering her hands. The edge was traced with red lace. She had a long white skirt, that covered her feet. Then, she noticed she was floating! She laughed and picked up the mask. Then, she fled. Her parents only got a glimpse of her as she ran out the door. Never to be seen again.
A week later, after the disappearance of Hannah Jannette, three murders had been reported in her neighbourhood. Pictures were taken but they were just blurs of a young girl, dressed in white who looked almost like Pierrot. Hannah was never caught.
Hannah looked at herself in an old mirror. She didn't know what was going on. She would always wake in an old house, with blood on her hands, wearing this weird outfit. She had seen the newspapers. She got up and looked at herself in the mirror for once. This time, she saw the murderer. She realized it was her. She was the murderer. She remembered all the people she had killed. She felt the need to cry, but her tears never came. So she started to laugh again. Her hysteric laughter only masked the sadness though. Deep down she wanted to cry. Her laughter died down again as she picked up the knife she found near her. All of a sudden static filled her ears. As she turned around she saw a tall figure, with no facial features. This...thing seemed to speak to her in her mind. It told her what she was, and that she would live with her kind. As she was teleported to an old mansion this thing told her "Welcome to your new home...Silent Cry."