Author's Note: Alright, so I've written some more (hopefully) creepiness... It was pretty creepy to me sitting up alone at 3 and 4 o' clock in the morning writing it anyway. Nothing'll get too terribly bizarre till part two, though... which is coming up after another couple of chapters, most likely. This is the shortest part. And I've decided that the story will most likely be three parts. Anyway, hope you enjoy!

Part One – Isolation

Chapter Two

"Dinah, what are you doing in here?"

Dinah raised her head wearily, laboring for breath. Her aunt stood over her, hands on her hips, an irritated expression displayed on her serious face. "There's something out there," she gasped out, getting to her feet.

Aunt Jane glanced out the window, frowning. "What?"

"A man, I think – a tall, skinny man, like a walking skeleton. He was coming toward me."

Dinah's aunt looked down at her, scowling. "Dinah, no more of these silly games. You need to stop letting that overactive imagination get to you."

"But I saw him," Dinah insisted, "and I think he saw me. He's still out there."

"Enough, Dinah! If you aren't going to play outside, fine, but go play in your room and stay out of the way, and I don't want to hear anymore of your stories."

Dinah nodded in resignation, making her way dejectedly back to her room. She knew better by now than to expect her guardian to believe her, but trying hadn't really made it any worse. At least Aunt Jane hadn't sent her back outside. She shuddered, still feeling the dead eyes upon her in her mind.

Dinah's room was on the first floor of the large house, a cozy room that served as her personal haven. She could spend hours alone, seated on the large, canopied bed or at the wooden desk, enthralled with a book, or drawing characters from her own imagination. She decided to occupy her time with the latter activity, taking up a notepad and pencil and slinging herself across her bed.

But the drawings she scratched out today weren't simple figments of her imagination, and they were far from those images typical of a girl Dinah's age. She drew the skeleton man, a faceless terror that shambled through the trees. She drew the Reaper, sticklike hands visible beneath a black cloak, face hidden in the shadows of his cowl. The Reaper was standing outside a window – her window.

Dinah jumped, startled to see where her sketch had led. She found herself looking nervously toward the window. The curtains were drawn back, revealing no ghastly figure, but it did nothing to ease her fears. Between her shoulder blades, she still felt an itch, as if someone were watching her.

She scrambled across the bed and rolled into the floor, crawling over to the window. She closed the curtains hurriedly, the room darkening. Leaning against the wall beside the casement, she closed her eyes, reminding herself that the drawing was only from her mind – not like the skeleton man.

Maybe he had moved on. There was no reason for him to come after her. Whatever his grievance, she had nothing to do with it. Yet, he had chased her. Maybe he did want something from her. Maybe he didn't care that she wasn't to blame.

A loud, screeching noise sounded at her window, like something hard and sharp scratching the glass. Dinah yelped, flinging her hands over her mouth to stifle the sound, her eyes wide with fear. There was something outside, though she couldn't say how she knew.

Again, the scratching came, and Dinah hugged her knees to her chest, squeezing her eyes shut. Again and again and again – a clawing at her window, shrill and painful, and then, she heard a voice. "Let me in," it rasped, the sound like bone grating against bone. "Let me in! Open the window!"

Dinah clamped her hands over her ears, trying to block out both the terrible sound and the horrible voice. But they passed cleanly through her hands, as if no obstruction blocked her hearing at all. She wanted to scream.

"I know you're in there! Let me in! Goddamn you! Let me in!"

"No!" Dinah shrieked, losing all semblance of self-control. "Go away! Leave me alone!"

"Let me in, or I'll break in!"

"No!" she screamed, jumping to her feet. "I won't! I won't!"

She tore from the room, shrieking as loudly as she could, wishing to drown out the terrible cries that followed her. Racing down the hall, she didn't see Aunt Jane until she had collided with her directly, nearly knocking her guardian off her feet. Her cries fell short as she tried to catch her balance.

"Dinah, what is the meaning of this?" her aunt demanded, steadying herself against the wall. "What are you screaming about?"

"There's – there's something at the window!" Dinah sobbed, clutching at the older woman's hands. "Aunt Jane, I was so scared!"

"What's at the window?" Aunt Jane looked around her niece, trying to see into the room.

"I don't know. I had the curtains closed. But I heard a voice, and someone was scratching on the glass!"

Aunt Jane untangled herself from Dinah wordlessly, starting into the room. She flicked on the light, looking about. There wasn't a sound.

Dinah hung in the doorway, clinging to the door fearfully as her aunt approached the window. "Aunt Jane, please don't," she began as the woman reached for the curtains.

Ignoring the child, Aunt Jane threw the curtains back, shaking her head in disgust. As before, no demon stood beyond the window. The source of the voice had fled. But for a moment, Dinah was sure that she saw scratch marks in the glass, streaked with blood.