A small figure lies prone before the cloaked one. A small figure clad in white lace. Preened and arranged. Unblemished and virginal.

The scene begins to grow increasingly distant as trees erupt from the landscape, obscuring the view as they continued to appear, closer and closer.

Immediately before us, the earth trembles and begins to sink. Almost as quickly as the depression is formed, it is filled with water. The glossy surface ripples in the slight breeze, moonlight reflecting from it in a shimmering stripe.

The ground continues to shake, and another stand of trees erupt skyward. The tall pines form a line before us, now completely obscuring the clearing and all but the smallest glimpses of the shallow lake.

I turn to the little girl. She is pointing at the sign. “What does it say, Mister?”

I look downward, following along her finger to the small white sign. Bold, black, capital letters spell out PLEASE DO NOT FEED GEESE.

“Only you can save her now, Rowan,” Ariel’s lilting voice gently touches my ears.

I turn to her, and she holds forth her hand. In it, a tarot card. A tarot card known as The Moon.

She stiffens and the card flutters from her hand. Her eyes go wide, and blood streaks down the front of her dress.

“Hey, Mister, what time is it?” the little girl is talking to me. “What time is it? Hey, Mister!”

I look up to the glowing marbled disk of the full moon high above. Spinning around its face are the hands of a clock. I watch as the minute hand chases rapidly after the hour hand, overtakes it, then begins the race anew.

“Hey, Mister!” the tiny voice demands. “What time is it?”

Darkness.

A deafening, demonic chord.

The sound of water splashing violently.

I can’t breathe. My lungs are on fire, and the flames are licking up my throat. My chest feels heavy, and there is something tightening about my neck. The atmosphere feels thick and fluid around me. I want to gasp for air, but something is telling me I shouldn’t. My thoughts are beginning to cloud; my mind is turning murky and dark.