Prologue: Under the Shadow of Night

Author's Note: This is a continuation of my Sailor Sol story. If you haven't read Resurrection, you may be a little lost. Also, I don't Sailor Moon. I'm only borrowing the characters for my story.

"We fear, but we cannot see, what is before us." --Sophocles
A loud crash made her sit straight up in her bed, jerking her out of sleep. Quickly dressing, she grabbed the baseball she always kept underneath her bed. Saying a quick prayer for protection, she crept down the hallway.

A large figure was rummaging through the refrigerator. The faint light of the dying light bulb helped to conceal the person, not to reveal who it was. Soundlessly, she made her way to the front door.

However, she tripped over something. The bottle broke under her weight, glass digging into her leg. Her muffled cry of pain drew the other person's attention.

She felt herself being lifted off the ground by the collar of her shirt. Desperately, she clung to the bat and looked the intruder in the eye. "Daddy?"

"What the hell do you think you are doing?" he yelled, wrenching the bat from her hands and throwing it across the room. "Did you think that you were going to use that on me? Thinking about getting the drop on your old man? Huh? HUH!"

The alcohol made his words slurred. "No, Daddy. I thought that someone was breaking in. I was going for help."

"Breaking in?" he roared, hoisting her higher. His face was inches from hers, the alcohol evident on his breath. "You thought someone was breaking in and you were going for help? Why didn't you use the damn phone!"

"The phone doesn't work, Daddy. The bill wasn't paid." She realized her mistake the instant his bloodshot eyes widen in fury.

She picked herself up off the floor, vaguely comprehending that he had hit her. Her eyes stinging, she stood up. Cursing her at the top of his lungs, he staggered toward her.

Realizing her situation, she dodged when he sprang at her. Ignoring his shouts, she ran to the front door. Jerking the protesting door opening, she jumped to the foot of the battered front steps.

The impact jarred her, reminding her of the glass imbedded into her left leg. Her father stood in the doorway, swaying. "Don't come back!" he cried, shaking his fist. "Don't ever come back!"

She ran through the streets until her leg couldn't take it. She slowed but maintained a brisk pace, well aware of the situations that could be waiting for her. This would not be her first night on the streets.

Most of the kids she knew that were like her said that stuff at home were okay most of the time, when their folks weren't boozed. However, she could never said that about Bill, her father. She could barely remember at time when he was sober.

He blamed her for her mother's death, who had died in childbirth. She had been unwelcomed even before then, prompting her teenaged parents to marry. Yet, for some reason, probably what was left of his pride, Bill would not give his daughter up.

She wondered how she had survived to this point in her life. Granted her father hadn't become violent with her until a few years ago, she marveled at how he could have taken care of a baby. 'Maybe Nanna had taken care of me,' she thought.

However, Nanna had died when she was five, leaving her completely dependent on her father. Not matter how many times she tried to think of him as her father, the name just did not apply to Bill. 'And never will,' she realized grimly.

It would be days before she would even chance going back to the house. Yet, she didn't have any money and no where to go. Zipping her thin cotton jacket higher, she began to dig through the pockets, hoping that there would be a dollar or two. However, the whole time, she was moving, constantly watching for signs of trouble.

However, she never saw the lady perched up on a nearby rooftop, watching every move with acute interest. Satisfied that this was her target, the woman jump and glided to the ground, a few feet behind the girl.

Feeling a slight breeze, the girl immediately glanced over her shoulder. Seeing nothing, she faced forward again. Immediately, she noticed the tall lady with long, curly gray hair standing right in front of her. The girl recoiled but tripped as she tried to back away.

Smiling, the lady grabbed her shoulders, steadying her. "Don't be afraid."

"Who . . . who are you? What do you want?"

The lady's smile broadened, her dark eyes sparkling. "I have great plans for you, precious Hecate. Great, wonderful plans."