The little girl with the blonde hair runs onto a staircase
and she climbs, calling all the while for a man that does
not exist. the stair case does not end, it does not reach a
top, and yet she keeps running, keeps fighting. Even when
the black cloud finds her, and it begins to fill her.
seeping into her skin, her very being, even when her skin
becomes a sickly grey and her eyes dead white, the little
girl does not stop running. For running is all the little
girl can do. Even when the thick black fog takes the last of
her soul she does not stop fighting, for fighting is all the
little girl knows.
Even as her heart is filled with lose and anger the little
girl glings to her humanity for her humanity is all she has
left. The little girl is strong, but too weak to fight the
dark alone.