A tempest was brewing.

Cold wind blew through the trees, causing the trees themselves to shiver. The air was heavy. The world was calm but on edge, as if waiting for the tempest to cause all kinds of commotion.

Everyone knew the storm was coming. The people knew it, because they were hiding in their homes, peeking out their windows, waiting in fear for the tempest to come. The plants and animals knew it, because they were hiding, too. Everyone seemed to know except for the lone figure walking in the graveyard. The figure's name was Nina Martin.

An approaching tempest could not stop Nina from her goal. She walked quickly, but it wasn't because she was scared. Her hands were shoved deep in her pockets, her right hand clutching a letter. It was a letter she had written, and receiver was here, in the graveyard.

Nina continued walking for a few more minutes. Then, she stopped in her tracks. There, in front of her, was the person her letter was addressed to.

Thunder cracked over Nina's head. She would have to do this quickly. Nina pulled the letter out of her pocket, and placed it on her mother's grave. She gazed at it sadly for a moment, then turned around and ran toward the entrance of the graveyard. Before she reached the gates, though, Nina turned around and looked back at her mother's grave.

The letter was gone. In its place was a black-clad figure.

Nina felt the figure look at her, then it was gone.

The rain began to fall in icy sheets, and Nina continued running, out of the graveyard and into the heart of the storm.