The tinkling innocents of a child's laughter filtered through the clearing. The eerie stillness going unnoticed to the blonde haired infant as her bright eyes stared around for the disappearing flicker of light she had followed after. Her cream dress smeared with streaks of grass stains and clumps of mud.

She had traveled far into the woods, slipping by her mothers legs in earnest curiosity. The music and laughter of the party oddly cutting short when her small form became swallowed up by the trees. Her mother would surely scold her later from the state of worry the girl had put her through.

Though, distress was far from the blue eyed child's mind, she giggled on at the simplistic idea of a light playing peek-a-boo with her, she giddily waited and jumped towards any of the directions it suggested the familiar twinkle. All the while being pulled further into the lush green vegetation and farther from safety of home, she finally stopped when the light completely died and was left to look around in confusion.

It wasn't long before the forest had begun to darken and fearful uncertainty was on the child's face. She called for her mother many times and muffled a sob when she tripped over a large root, her shoe slipping to the ground, and into a puddle of muddy water. She pulled herself up and worded her confusion on where everyone had gotten to. She stepped out with her bare foot and pressed forward to keep going only to find she could not move her left leg. She looked down in horror to find herself sinking slowly and cried out in alarm when she struggled to break away, dark shaded vines slithered out to tighten around the other limbs. The bruising ferocity alarmed her to the point of brutal thrashing and tugging. Her hands grabbed at dirt and roots in a last attempt at survival, her small lungs screaming with the final effort at help before sliding into the muck with a small slurp.

All that was left behind of her entrance was her shoe that lay just besides the oddly shimmering puddle. A small ripple of red found itself to the surface and a chilling voice calling out. "Sarah..."

Sarah Williams awoke with her heart thumping painfully to vague memories of her nights dream. She looked around the room attentively; shadowed objects of furniture and clothing littered the room, her wearied mind making the outlines seem more grotesque then assurance.

She gave a small sigh and lowered her head to let her long locks fall in a curtain around her face. Her senses slowly magnifying and her mind lifting. The dreams had been getting worse lately and even when the woman tried to make out the details the quicker it slipped away from her. Sarah rubbed her forehead and glanced over to the flashing red lights of her alarm clock. It read 4 AM in annoying bold flashing print, which only spurred her further to groan and glare.

Ever since she was fourteen she had been having mystifying dreams of a castle and its sinister king. In some strange fantasy realm she always had found herself running through corridors and hedge mazes, His voice always alluring yet terrifying. He had constantly eluded her forward most thoughts, causing the dream to shape around him but not quite. He was like the background as well as the main event. Sarah's eyebrows furled at the on going internal event of her life. She could never remember his face or he would move too quickly for her to get a good look at him. Everything led back to this lone King and she was beginning to get agitated by his compulsive desire to stay hidden. Even if he was just that of Sarah's dream land, she didn't understand her obsessive desires to comprehend what all of this meant.

That craving compelled a young Sarah to sit down and write out her nightmarish yet inspiring thoughts. She didn't realize until later that a lengthy novel was forming into a dark tale between a young woman and a Faery King. It was when she published this book, after many years of haunting imagination, which the jaded memories and dreams had ceased.

Now, twenty six, Sarah Williams, a #1 New York Times bestselling author, began to dream once more. Yet the tale has turned, it was no longer about dark king, yet everything. Murky shadows looming over unsuspecting innocence, curdling screams of terror, blood pools and drowned bodies; everything with a shivering gurgle of her name being passed through the lips of the unknown murderer, it took on a hint of her dreams from the past…but so much more.

She fell back to her pillow and murmured, "What a dream." Rolling to her side she closed her eyes and willed herself to stop thinking. She felt prickled and disturbed now that her brain was wake and pumping. The feeling she got sometimes as if someone was watching her. She grabbed the covers and pulled them over her head, she wasn't a kid anymore but random childhood spasms seemed to keep her acting like one.

Sarah still had enough time to fall back into a light slumber but the red glow in the darkness of her room and the insistent nagging of her thoughts brought her to an early start for a Wednesday morning. The Williams girl grumbled and slipped from the bed. Her face twisting to that of surprise as she quickly padded across the cold floor towards her slippers. She had forgotten once again to reset the heaters and cursed her forgetfulness while passing through the door into the hallway.

Even when she was fully dressed, showered and setting at her kitchen table did Sarah briefly forget about earlier events, leaning forward without looking to grasp her mug of coffee, her eyes still scanning the morning's newspaper; a small mewl startled the woman causing the coffee to slip from her fingers and crash to the tile below.

She jumped, "Damn it Eli!" she shook her head and regarded the long haired ginger cat with a raised eyebrow and sharp emerald gaze. "Where on earth have you been off to?" she looked at the mess the cat was currently trying to lap up with his small pink tongue. She sighed once more and shooed him off. "And that was my favorite cup too…. What a morning." Bending she picked up the pieces and gingerly set them to the table top, her workings so earnest that she didn't see the figure standing behind her. When she turned it was another startle to her nerves, she all but threw the broken pieces at the intruder, yelping and jumping back with wide eyes. "Kristopher Ian Dublin don't you sneak up on me like that!"

Her boyfriend's eyes twinkled in mischief and he gave an apologizing smile. Kris held up his hands, "I am sorry Sarah! Just put down the glass and step away from the table, what are you going to do shank me with that?" he motioned towards the glass she just realized she held tightly in her grip. She let it go with a soft hiss, realizing blood had been drawn. He looked worried; all joking had paled from his face when he got a good look at her hand. "Sarah you need to take better care of yourself!" he sighed and shook his head, "Sit down, why in gods name are you up this early? You are never up this early!" he grumbled to himself continuing the conversation as he left, most likely to her bathroom, to grab some first aid supplies. She sat quietly, listening attentively as he opened and closed drawers, laughing softly against her own better judgment.

Sarah's eyes fell to the floor after a moment of pause, scanning the tile with mild interest. The dark coffee splattered in curious puddles that bent with the cracks in between each cream patterned square. Her mind creating the image of a flooded river of muddy water, small trees had been swept away with the current as it trickled further away. She shook her head and looked up to find Kris staring at her curiously. She looked away sheepishly, he had done this many times with her; or her to him. Lost in thought she would stare into space and not recognize the signs of his arrival.

She was an airhead.

"Kris…" she watched him kneel, grasping her hand with care and intense interest. She raised an eyebrow and cocked her head to the side. "What-" he raised a damp cloth and began to dab the wound, clucking his tongue like a disapproving hen.

"Sometimes……" He cleared away most of the crimson blood and smiled when it was only a small wound. "Sarah Williams must I always bail you out of messes?" She opened her mouth to protest when he looked up with an amused smile.

He would only be entertained her fiery attitude, she bit her tongue instead and looked away with a, "humph."

"I don't see why you don't just move in with me…"

"You know why Kris."

"Yeah…I know, but finding you in situations like these leaves me to the simple conclusion of bundling you up in bubble wrap and sticking you in my closet for safe keeping."

She regarded him for a moment, not sure if she should laugh or smack him on the shoulder. She decided to shrug, "My manager would come looking for me after a few weeks."

"Yeah to insist you have at least a laptop for entertainment and squeeze another chapter out of you."

"Right…"

Kristopher smiled again and busied himself to placing antiseptic and bandages on her wound.

Kristopher Ian Dublin, Sarah shook her head. What could she say about him? He found his way into her life only just a year ago, sweeping in like a modern Irish fantasy. Minus the fact his heritage ran deep into the heart of Ireland and had both a B.A. in Philosophy and Celtic Studies and an M.A. in Mediaeval Irish History; Kris still had the capacity to win over Sarah with just judge of character.

Curled fiery locks, bronze skin and deep wise brown eyes foretold ancient tales only but another past could suffice as an answer. He was light, amusing, understanding, easy to get along with (well most times) and rich. Kris also had a good sense of fashion; if she hadn't seen him with another woman before they had ever become an item she would have thought he was a closet gay.

"Am I completely bandaged doctor? May I proceed?" He looked at her with a fake critical glance before nodding.

"Aye, I believe so. Make sure you wash it thrice a day and you should make a full recovery." He said this with the thickest accent he could muster causing Sarah's bell-like laugh to sound throughout the house. He sounded like his grandfather, which was pretty hearty Irish in itself.

Sarah rose to her feet, over stepping the puddle she leaned over and kissed him softly on the cheek. "Thank you; you're my knight in shinning armor."

He smiled, "What about prince charming?"

"Hey, hey one step at a time lover boy," she grinned and he chuckled.

"By the way……you do realize its 6:30 right?"

"What!?" Sarah looked at the clock and cursed under her breath. Leaning over she kissed him quickly and ran out of the room, "I shall see you tonight. Do you mind feeding Eli for me? Thanks a bunch Kris!"

Kristopher shook his head and looked towards the mirror that was hovering just above the fireplace as he heard the door shut. When had she gotten that? The old vintage framing, silver with a hint of gold reflected almost as brightly as the glass it held, sat with brilliant hand crafted swirls and orbs about its round surface.

He walked closer and stared in awe, "I wonder when she got this…" Kristopher looked to Eli who had just paused from licking his paw. "She is so mysterious isn't she?" he chuckled and patted the feline, causing him to purr.

………

The King of the Goblins sneered at the crystal before him, the face of a red headed man staring back at him with mild curiosity.

Waiting for the man to leave the premises of Sarah's abode the mirror disappeared and was replaced by pictures that slid themselves back into the center of the mantle piece; a candle appearing from the wall itself to make it presentable. The set up looked as if nothing had been changed since the previous night.

Mismatched eyes looked briefly away before pocketing the orb.

"How irritating…" this was the closest he could bring himself to checking up on the girl. He had no power over her other wise.

Rising from his throne, The Goblin King Jareth crossed the deserted room and stared out into the rubble that was once his kingdom; sharp eyes surveying the area with distain, a mass moving within the shadows just out of his glance.

The magic of the labyrinth had long ceased its brutal destruction but as quickly as it had stilled it began to try and rebuild itself. Without Jareth's hand in controlling it, however, vines and vegetation began to take over; animals of good nature fled and others of a darker stature took homage in their houses and forests. The king took no action to stop this, his emotions overruling the magic in the labyrinth, causing more damage then good in this case.

And his excuse was blaming her.