JUST WARNING - THIS SCENE DOES INCLUDE SOME GRAPHIC SCENE.


Quiet.

Emma could feel it in her bones. It was too quiet.

She could feel the sand underneath her bare feet – dragging through her toes, but it felt more like mud as she searched through the darkness.

She reached out in front of her – she couldn't see anything – but she felt something. Canvas. Wet canvas. She felt along the canvas, feeling out for something – anything to let her know where she was. Instead it was just warm, and wet.

She felt her way down the canvas – still in complete darkness. She tried calling out for help, but no sound left her body. She wanted to cry for someone to come to her. Someone with a lamp to show her where she was. Anything. Just a light. Even just a candle.

She slowly made her way, feeling – almost like she was going in circles. A small circle – one in which she could never find the outlet. Then she heard it.

Stop! Make it stop! The cries shook Emma down to her core, and her fingers began to tear at the canvas in front of her. Both hands, clawing.

She knew that voice.

Cries of absolute pain echoed around her, ringing like bells over and over. Bells the began to cut into Emma's own ears.

She wanted to cry out. She wanted to scream and call out – so she knew she wasn't alone. But every time Emma opened her mouth, nothing came out. Nothing.

Instead the screams stopped being full of words, and instead were only guttural cries of terror and pain.

Emma clawed desperately at the canvas in front of her – tearing her fingers apart it felt like. She felt like she'd just about pulled the fabric apart – and then it ripped open.

And Emma finally saw the light.

There, in the middle of the tent that she'd just burst into, a woman was sprawled out on the ground, and as Emma took a step towards her, she sloshed through something warm.

Looking down, Emma gasped in horror to find her feet treading through puddles of warm, wet blood.

Emma had just reached the woman on the ground, and she started to shake the lifeless body. Shake it back and forth. And now she found words, "Lea… Lea!" She felt for a pulse, and found none. And she rolled the body over, and found lifeless green eyes staring up at her, a look of terror forever imprinted on her face.

Emma shook the body.

"Please, wake up!" She cried, her throat catching with each scream, "Wake up. I need you! I came to save you!"

A deep voice called to her from the darkness around her. Emma looked up, still grasping onto her friend's body, and she found his face.

Covered in a mask. But she knew it was him. She knew from the knife in his hand, the blood all over his body. And he walked over to her. And grabbed her hair, lifting her up.

Emma screamed out in pain, "Please, stop. My friend needs me! Please…"

He raised his hand, a knife dripping in blood coming close to her.

She knew she was going to die.

And she looked, and out of the darkness stepped someone she would never stop knowing. Someone she thought would always protect her. Someone who would come to rescue her from anything. Someone who she thought would always love her.

Her mother stood there, arms crossed. Looking on.

"Help me!" Emma called out! "Save me!"

And her mother simply shook her head, and then faded into the background. And Emma looked up to find the knife, coming directly to her neck.

And at one last cry for desperate help, Emma cried out, "Mommy!"

But no one came. And the knife slit across her throat. The last thing Emma saw was the fading of her mother away from her. Away from her help. Away.