It was a peaceful night when all good children were in bed and lights were out, but that

was only in the fairy tales. Reality was nothing like a fairy tale, though many wished it

could be. On a dark street where everything is almost quiet, a young woman dressed in

something frowned upon by her mother, walks alone. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~@~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A pair of molten eyes watched as said young girl pranced down the street. He could tell

that she was getting suspicious by the way she kept glancing up and down the road. He

smirked inwardly as the stench of fear rose to an all new high. Oh yes, indeed this should

be fun, were his last thoughts as he sped along the roofs before gracefully executing a

controlled drop into the alley below. It was all routine by now, the only difference was

their reaction when he finally made his presence known. It amused him to no end to see

the unconditional fear in their eyes when they realized their fate at his hands. Hands

stained with the blood of thousands of innocents and millions of the guilty. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~*_*~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Another broken sob echoed around the room that already held a lifetime of them. The

only occupant in the room was sitting by the window with the moon shining down on her

fragile appearance. The form of the girl was one deeply etched in sorrow, a sorrow so

deep that it would make anyone with a heart, no matter how small, want to comfort her.

Her raven hair accented the paleness of her skin that would be envied by fresh snow. The

blue eyes that reflected the ocean stared longingly out the window at the town showered

by moonlight. Though she looked only to be 18 or so, one would think her older by the

raw emotions and the timeless look in her eyes. Only one who had experienced a sorrow

as great as hers could understand. Many thought her beautiful, the girls envied her, the

boys adored her, but nobody could comprehend the expression behind her eyes.

Although she had friends, she could not trust simple words to communicate the

complexity of her past. So she kept it to herself, where it would be safe behind a locked

door, until, that is, someone found the key.