It was a dark and stormy night. The wind howled and whipped the tree limbs about, but there was no rain. There was the roar of thunder but there was no lightening to light up the night. The small blue car sped down the old highway, its operator lost. The young, tan colored,female rabbit tried the radio but there was nothing but static for the last ten miles. It was while twisting the dial to the radio that she nearly hit the detour sign, slamming the brakes and leaving an unpleasant smell of burnt tire in the car. The sign appeared old and was supported by a rusty chain blocking off any access to continue further. A faded arrow on the sign pointed toward an old road that was full of cracks and pot holes. There was no street sign, and upon checking the map just proved to the doe that she was lost. The wind continued to blast leaves and limbs of the forest around her and she was uncertain if she wanted to drive deeper into these dark woods. The fall wind sent a chill down her spine and forced her back into the warmth of her car. It had been over an hour since she had seen any building and longer still since she had seen another car. There seemed to be no other choice but to press forward. A few miles down the road and she quickly regretted that decision, the road's bumps and turns tossed the car about unmercifully and at one such turn, the car went to a complete stop. The static on the radio stopped and the ignition did not even give a click. The car was dead in the heart of the forest's unwelcoming dark belly. But the head lights still worked. Not twenty feet ahead, partially obscured by a host of tree branches and foliage swung an old beat up sign that read "Welcome". Or would have if it hadn't been marred from time and.. what looked like eroded scratches in the wood. Either way, the small sign marked the start of a narrow, overgrown path that normally would have permitted a vehicle, but now was only wide enough for a single individual. In the howling, whipping wind, the sign slapped back and forth in an ominous manner, threatening to fly off its rusted old chain. The young rabbit tried dialing for help on her cell phone but got no signal. She saw the sign as it swayed from side to side behind the bare, dead limbs. Wish I knew something about cars. she thought as she opened the door to her car. The door ripped from her hands by the force of the wind and seemed to nearly tear off at the hinges when it fully opened. Bundled in a jacket and a yellow rain coat, she got out of the car to look for help. The sign continued its chaotic dance with the wind, swinging back and forth in the choppy current as it pushed through the thick foliage. Branches swayed and weaved and twisted with the invisible force, snagging the sign and breaking one of the two ancient chains that held it aloft. As it gave way, a particularly strong gust of wind tore down the narrow wooded passage, throwing into the road a flurry of dead leaves. Along with it somewhere under the roaring of the wind, the faint sound of clip-clopping, like one might expect from a horse's hooves or perhaps the soles of a gentleman's leather shoes on cobblestone echoed. The sound was hastily swallowed by the wind and carried away as the high winds lessened for a moment, stray leaves still twirling through the air as silence swept into place for a breath. The sudden gush of wind nearly toppled the young lapin over, whipping her long white hair into a near by tree limb, almost like a skeleton's bony hand was grabbing at it. It was at this moment that she heard the clip, clopping like noise coming from down the old road, and an uncontrollable panic started to rise from deep within her. Struggling to free herself, one last blast of wind and leaves made her lose her balance. Now sitting on the ground, with a dead branch lying next to her, the rabbit stared down the path. She no longer could hear the clip, clopping sound. "Is... Is there someone there?" she called out, trying to mask the fear in her voice. She did not know which would be better, to hear an answer or not to hear one. The rabbit reached into her pocket and pulled out an envelope, holding tightly to it so as not to lose it to the unmerciful wind. The car door slammed shut in response, which in the relative calm of the moment, rang out clearly. Then, almost as in concert, the wind picked up again, sweeping the scattered leaves under the vehicle. The wounded sign creaked a woeful song in the escalating winds, while the remaining hinge threatened to give way as well. And the trees.. The trees groaned and creaked as the wind played havoc with their leafy canopies, much like it played devilishly with the trim of the woman's jacket. The wind continued to escalate in speed and ferocity, as though the forest were like an instrument, part of an orchestra steadily building to a mighty climax. Great branches whipped around like twigs, tree trunks groaned under the strain, and on the forest floor leaves swirled to and fro like a sea of confetti. It was almost majestic, but underneath it all was a disturbing atmosphere. The kind one always felt when alone in a strange place. The feeling like someone was watching you. The hairs rising on the back of your neck. It was like-- "Can I assist you?" A soft voice cut in from behind. The wind died. The car door slamming shut startled the lady, almost causing her to drop the envelope. The sudden voice nearly killed her. She dove forward, away from the unknown person. Quickly turning around, she held the envelope in a painful grip as if holding a gun. "I have mace!" she cried without thinking. But nobody was there. It was then that she noticed that calm. The wind had stopped, there was no thunder, no sound of a cricket's chirp or a toad's croak. The sign now lay still on the ground, having lost its battle to the wind just earlier. Everything seemed to have died along with that sign. "Ma'am?" The man stated a second time, to the woman's back. Standing in the mouth of the forest path was a tall, slim hare. He was dressed fancily in a black tuxedo and work a top-hat on his head. A monocle dangled from a chain protruding from his breast pocket. The gentleman was dressed entirely the part, right down to a pair of long leather shoes and white gloves, one of which held a very ornate pocket watch. He eyed her respectfully if a little lacking in facial expression. In fact.. a few things did seem off, beyond the attire. Like the evident age of the suit. There was dust, dirt and grime marring the edges of his jacket and his pants were frayed and torn at the ankles. His shoes were scuffed and cracked, the soles worn smooth and the laces brittle. The monocle's lens was gray and clouded, his white gloves scuffed and dirty. The top hat had lost it's sheen a long time ago and was now more telling of age than the rest of his suit. Oldest of all by far, though, was the silver pocket-watch he held in his hand. While it didn't look much older than an heirloom, it carried with it a odd sense of history. "Do you require assistance, Miss...?" he inquired politely. The young lady quickly stood up, trying to compose herself and placing the envelope back into her pocket. Was he there the whole time? She thought to herself. The gentleman showed of wealth but the age and filth on his clothes showed otherwise. "N-no. I'm fine. Just easily startled I suppose," the lady tried to explain. "I'm sorry, you can just call me Latricia. My car had broke down and I have no idea where I am." The man nodded his head curtly. "Yes, Latricia, of course." His eyes brightened just slightly at the name, as though it were of some importance. It only lasted a moment before his gaze shifted to the pocket-watch, at which point his eyes widened for a different reason. "You're late, my dear... Very late," he said quietly, bowed slightly to the woman as his other hand, which had been hidden behind his back until now, extracted a lit lantern, the light of which only began to affect his surroundings after it appeared. He held it in front of him, casting a sickly yellow glow against his grimy suit and obscuring parts of his face in shadow. "Here, Ma'am. There is a small hotel a short ways into the woods. The Path shall lead you to it. You will need this to light the way. You may find someone to assist you there." As he spoke, he stepped to the side of the opening into the woods and gestured to the path. Late? For what..? Latricia cautiously walked toward the tall hare. She wondered how she never noticed the lantern's light until now. Looking down the path was like looking into a monster's mouth. Tree limbs, once bony skeletal arms and fingers, looked like jagged teeth that were waiting for its next victim to get too close. At that last image in her head, she was now grateful the hare in the dirty tuxedo had the lantern on his person. She came over closer and started to reach for it but felt a sudden chill, greater than the cold that already surrounded them. Upon touching the lantern's handle close to the man's fingers, it was as if she had just dipped her hand into a bowl of ice water. "Thank you very much, Mr..." "Valentine," he answered, but when the woman would look towards him all that would be there was the lantern in her hand. The strangely dressed man had vanished into the encroaching darkness, and with his departure the wind began to pick up again. Branches began to sway and leaves skittered across the narrow path now alive with the motion of the many bony limbs that enveloped it. The gradually increasing wind whistled ominously between the trees, seeming to bring darkness in its wake. Where the woman stood, twilight still clung to the sky, but beyond the mouth of the Path a black, light-consuming night swirled amongst the trees. Latricia stood there, her mouth a gape. If it wasn't for the lantern in her hand, she would have sworn the hare in the dirty tuxedo was never there. With the lantern now in hand, she could now see how old it was. It was practically an antique. It was made of copper and glass. The metal was dented and stained with age. The glass was cracked and so dirty that the rabbit was impressed the light even came through. The light was not produced by a battery, gas, or oil but a candle that appeared to be near its end. The flame flickered inside the lantern from the growing winds, producing dancing shadows from the already menacing branches that had started to sway about as if wanting to grab for her yet again. The doe thought about trying to start the car again but the candle looked like it was in danger of being snuffed out at any moment. She went back to the car, grabbed the keys, locked the doors, and walked over to the mouth of the path as if it were the open maw of a dragon. The wind had grown even stronger, causing the tree branches to continue their dance, as if in victory of the now downed sign. Looking again at the sign, she started to ponder what had put the scratches on it and just as quickly drove that thought out of her head. Now staring down the blackness of the path, full of swaying, jagged teeth and a blackness that seemed to consume the lantern's light as if it was a source of food, she took a deep breath, closed her eyes and started to walk into the beast's mouth. As the white rabbit entered the dark, uninviting path, the swaying branches seemed to reach for her as she passed, too short to reach, but close enough to feel their presence just beyond the weak light of the lantern. They creaked and groaned, almost as though in agony. The deeper into the woods she crept the louder their insistence became and the more the wind struggled to penetrate the thickly wooded darkness. The whistling of the wind grew sharper and wilder, though despite nature's seeming attempt to drown out everything but the woman's thoughts, through the undercurrent, in between the terrible gusts that managed to tear between the trees, was the faint sound of a small voice crying. At first it was difficult to hear, but the further the woman progressed, the clearer it became, until just beyond the small radius of light, the faint tiny form of a young ferret girl was dimly lit. She was seated with her back to the woman several feet off the path. The darkness seemed to lap around her form almost palpably. The lady could not believe there was a child alone in these woods. The young ferret appeared to be dress in a fancy violet dress, as if she was to be at a formal party. The girl's hair was curly and golden with a sheen that nearly reflected the lantern's light. How did the man from before not notice her? thought the tan rabbit. "Little girl," she called out in an attempt to get her attention. The ferret continued to cry and the crying seemed to get louder, even over the growing winds. "Child, Dear. Can you hear me!" It was to no avail. It all most seemed the young creature was trying to drown out the rabbit's voice with her tears. The lady carefully moved aside a branch and proceeded toward the little girl and off the path. The wind roared through the branches like a wild animal after its prey. the Lanterns flame flickered and waved wildly and was near to be extinguished. The limbs and leaves whipped at the rabbits face painfully and the twigs and thorns of the bushes tugged at her legs as if they were trying to lead her back the way she came. But she had to continue and help the child. The closer she got, it seemed to get darker around the child. The light of the flame flickered and brighten the canopy above her but the child was surrounded by a gloom that was slowly swallowing her. Now just a few feet away, the rabbit now saw the that the violet, fancy dress was covered and smeared with dirt and mud and had green and yellow mold starting to grow in places in sickening little spots. It was torn and in disarray, with ribbons untied, a sleeve dangling from the left shoulder and a split down the back revealing the girls' back. The golden, curly, shoulder length hair's reflection was due not for it being well kept and clean but due to a watery dew that covered the girl like she had sat there for days and days unmoving. And her crying had now drowned out the powerful wind that surround the rabbit. But did not seem to disturb the girl. Her hair, fur, tail, and dress laid still. The only thing that moved was her shoulders. The lady reached out and laid her hand on the girl's left shoulder, which was bare due to the tear in the sleeve. "I'm here to help you." As the woman's hand graced the little girl's shoulder, a man's voice whispered "Don't," into her ear. It spoke quietly and cautiously, almost completely swallowed by the child's crying, but its warning was terse. It sounded almost like that of the man she'd encountered earlier, even though he was nowhere to be seen. Unfortunately, the warning did not come soon enough. The moment the rabbit's paw touched the ferret's shoulder, a deep dark numbing cold leeched into her arm. The child's crying stopped as the wind died once more, but only long enough for the child to utter, in a shy, innocent voice, "..Mommy? Is that you..?" As she spoke, she turned slowly. Her face was not one of an innocent girl lost in the woods. In the flickering light of the lantern, old dead flesh and bare bone glimmered. Darkness leeched out of the holes in the skull that used to be her face in thick plumes, black as oil. "I don't want to die." Curling black smoke dribbled from her mouth as it moved. And that was it before the wind immediately returned with a vengeance. Only this time it whipped out towards the female rabbit from behind the creature in girl's clothing. The darkness emanating from her form, captured by the wind, leaped forward around the woman as the girl lunged forward to attack. Before the darkness could leech away the remaining light, its weak glow lit the form of a creature that was very much not the little girl she encountered. The ferret had transformed into some hideous abomination with extra limbs, joints and digits. Its face had become a terrible pit of teeth sharp as spikes; the torn dress was nothing but rags hanging from his long slender, bony form. With long knife-like claws it slashed at the rabbit, all the while shrieking over and over "I DON'T WANT TO DIE!". The terror that filled Latricia in that beat of an instant was nothing she had ever felt or could even imagine. No nightmare from a feverish child could produce the fear that had just swallowed her soul. She was running through the the wild, unforgiving darkness. The light was now gone for she had swung the lantern at the horror that attacked her. She didn't even realize the lantern was no longer with her let alone if it had hit the child monster. She just wanted to live and to live was to run. The skeletal fingers grabbed and yanked at her hair, poked and slapped her face and chest, and tried trip and snag her legs. The rabbit had no idea where she was running and how far she had already ran. She could not think, she could not see, and all she heard was the beating and thumping of her heart and the unearthly scream of the demon ferret. "I DON"T WANT TO DIE!" As the rabbit ran, the cackle of the wind whipped all around in a frenzy, carrying the shrieks of the banshee the followed in the darkness. Her wailing seemed to echo through the dense woods, as though coming from everywhere at once. And it possibly was. In the bleak, unforgiving darkness it felt as if a thousand burning gazes watched the terrified doe as she fled helplessly and blindly through the forest. She had fled far from the trail now, and without the relative safety of direction and distance from the encroaching foliage, there was nothing stopping the bony wood limbs from latching onto every stray bit of fabric flapping in the wind to slow her down. Roots up-rooted to stumble her footing, leaves carried on the wind pushed against her. And the wailing creature drew nearer. It did not take long for the ferret in her failing form to reach the woman, and when it did, it appeared from out of the darkness, in front of the rabbit , her frail frame bursting into bright blue flames that kicked back the darkness so harshly, that black curling clouds of it still swirled across the ground as the weightless shape of the ferret, much larger now than before, gently descended to the forest floor. Her visage was so horribly mangled now as to be almost entirely unrecognizable. Her head was nothing but a naked skull now, with darkness pouring from her empty eye-sockets. Pale limp hair hung from her head devoid of life and her body was nothing but patches of burnt fur clinging to skin draped over bones. What remained of her dress hung slack from her body and upheld wrists, creating the jagged impression of wings. When her bony jaw sagged open, a wicked piercing shriek tore through the frantic swirling winds. The banshee dove forward to attack with its long, sharp claws. It tore at the rabbit's jacket where the letter resided, repeating its mantra over and over in a deafening wail. Then, in an instant, a shot rang out, louder even than the creature's frightening cries. The skeletal former-ferret burst into a white flame brighter than its own. It flashed so bright the darkness the beast exuded was torn away and banished to the farthest reaches of the night as, for an instant, the entire forest was lit by a blinding light. It quickly vanished, as did the terrible banshee and the thick inky blackness it harbored. Returning to darkness, it took a moment for the weak lantern light in the distance to become visible, but when it did, the vague silhouette of a figure stood before it, cast in darkness. In his hands was a rifle. Without a word he retreated into the shadows, leaving the lantern in place in the middle of the path. The banshee's shriek had deafened the rabbit's hearing so badly that the blast from the rifle sounded more like a simple cork being popped off a champagne bottle. The bright light that exploded at her seemed louder than the monster's deathly wail. By the time her eye sight returned, she could hazily make out the lantern, it's candle still lit, a short distance away and the man walking away. "Please! Please come back!" she cried out and tried to make her way toward the light and the disappearing form but her body was in tremendous pain from the beating the branches and brush had given her from the run. "Come back! I don't want to be here!" The rain coat was torn and ripped and muddy. A tear ran up the side of her right pants' leg and she thought she could be bleeding there as well. Though her eye sight was getting better, the doe's face was sore. Sweat and tears filled her large blue eyes. Her heart continued to beat hard and fast like it knew she was still in danger. "Help!" Her knees and calves ached worse of all. She was afraid her legs would give out on her and she would never get back up again, leaving her an easy meal for this monstrous forest. And when she reached the lantern, they did just that. "P,please..." the rabbit trailed off to tears and crying. Sitting on the ground, the light, brown fur was dirty and sticky from sweat and caused her to shiver when the unmerciful winds blew on her body. In the light of the candle, she could she that her leg was indeed cut but not badly. But that was of no concern to her at this moment. The lapin's body had given up to despair. She laid down on her side around the light of the lantern and cried. -------------------------------------------- "Latricia. Where are you, Latricia?" Latricia giggled as her granddad walked by the porch where she was hiding under. She was a master hide and seek player. She rolled over and fell silent. Right above her was a big brown spider on a web and the web had an egg sac that was throbbing with life. A cockroach skitter over her hand, causing her to flinch and tap the web, busting the sac open. Her scream was heard all the way to the highway. --------------------------------------- Latricia walked down the decorated hallway, holding her granddad's hand. They met up with another man and he also had his grand daughter with him. She had on a violet dress. ------------------------------------------ Blood! There was blood everywhere! She ran naked through the room, looking for her granddad. It was hot. Sweat and smoke teared up her eye. All she could hear was a child screaming; "I DO NO WANT TO DIE!" ------------------------------------- Latricia jolted awake, the fur on her cheeks soaked with tears, she sat back up. How did the lantern get back on the path? How did I end up so close to it after all that running? Did I run in a circle? How is the candle still lit? Did that man light it back up? The rabbit picked up the lantern and stood back up. Her body was sore all over but she did not want to stay here any longer. After checking to see that her cell phone was still dead, she decided to go back to her car and back to the highway. But which way is back? Swallowing down the panic building back up inside of her, the lady turned on her good leg and headed down and into the darkness of the path once again. As Latricia resumed her trek through the dark emptiness of the Path, the winds that were continuously tormenting her and threatening to extinguish the lantern's weak flame remained unusually tepid, restrained to a quiet whispering through the trees that shifted the occasional leaf on the forest floor. It seemed as though, were it sentient, it would be cowering in the blackness beyond her candle-light. In such a way as to suggest a force greater in ferocity than the banshee lay ahead. Almost in response to such a notion, before the woman a short distance beyond the veil of night a small weak light flickered to life. It hung overhead, shaped like a light-bulb. Its pale glow quivered ever so often as it swayed in the subdued wind. And when the woman neared, more lights blinked into existence behind it, lighting the path with a very weak sheen. It was just enough light to make out the faint form of a hat resting on the ground. It was a top hat, much like the one the hare had been wearing earlier, only this one had a splash of red, like blood, on the white sash around the base of its short black tower. A small gray ribbon poked out from underneath the hat's beat-up rim. Meanwhile, above, the lights continued to appear, beckoning onward. The urge to turn around hit hard as it became more obvious she had gone in the wrong direction but she continued as if she had no choice in the matter. Though the lights appeared to be of a life of their own, since there was no string or wire connecting them, she was glad to have a little more light. With the familiar hat now at her feet, she could see that the rusty, red color on the dull white sash, unlike the rest of the hat, was fresh and new. A snapping twig from out of the darkness caused her to jump and look about as she was not sure from where the sound came from. "Valentine? Sir?" the lady called out. When there was no reply, she knelt back down at the hat and after swatting a couple bugs off it, lifted it up and gasped at was hidden underneath. There on the ground was an old pistol with a gray ribbon neatly wrapped around as if it was left there as a gift. Hesitantly, she lifted it up and examined it. It was an ancient Colt six shot revolver with a .45 caliber. Though it was obviously old, it reflected the light off the polished metal and ivory grip. Latricia, not familiar with guns, felt uncomfortable holding the heavy piece of metal but after the encounter with the shrieking weasel creature, she wasn't going to leave it. She picked up the old top hat and after brushing a few more bugs of of it, she placed it on her head since she had nothing to carry it in. Holding the gun in both hands and looking around as another twig snapped from an unknown location,Was that more shrieking as well?, she continued to follow the mysterious lights down the trail. The weak, flickering illumination of the dangling bulbs continued a short ways onward until stopping abruptly. Where they ended, the faint form of a man standing on an old wooden ladder was exposed. His form was surrounded by the weak glow of lightning bugs and his back was turned to the woman. As the weak lights danced around him, they cast their glow across him. The man was a fox, discernible by the tail protruding limply from a suit of business. Despite the strictness of its design, it showed of great age. The hems were frayed and the fabric marred and torn. The shoulder of his left arm was partially torn from its seams and from the same arm hung a cane, it's finish worn away by time. "Good evening, Miss," he spoke in a soft British accent, his head turning to the side. "Are you lost, by chance?" Raising his right hand he deftly snatched a bug from the air. The action seemed to spur a tremble in the wind that fluttered a small tag against the hand the woman carried the gun in. Whether it had been there before or not, the small bit of paper read simply, "Hide me". There was more rustling in the forest somewhere far off. Latricia tried to slip the heavy, lethal metal under her torn rain coat and under the hem of her pants. When she tried to answer the tattered clothed fox, her voice came out quite hoarse and strained, due to her screaming shortly before and had to pause to clear her sore throat. "Yes, sir... I mean, maybe. I'm not to sure," the rabbit tried to explain and had to stop again to think over her situation. Maybe she should not trust this fox and worse he maybe like the the little ferret girl. At this thought, her free hand unconsciously slipped its way back under the raincoat and gripped the handle of the pistol. The fact that the ladder the fox was using seemed to not lean against anything did not help this thought. "I was told at the road that there was an Inn down this path. Is it near?" asked the lapin as she watched a trail of what seemed to be ants go up the unsupported ladder and onto the man's shoe and leg. As the woman spoke the fox continued to pluck lightning bugs from the air, each time sending a chill through the subdued winds drizzling through the trees. It wasn't until he reached up to tie the 'lightbulb' to non-existent strings overhead that the wind died altogether. At that moment it became clear what was powering the lights overhead, and why they flickered the way they did. Inside each one were swarms of glowing bugs, bumping against their confines fruitlessly. The weak seemingly harmless light they emitted seemed to make the trees tremble Slowly the man descended his short ladder as he spoke in response. "The Nightfall Inn.. Yes. It is very close, my dear." The ants and cockroaches climbing his legs scattered to the ground as he reached the bottom. "But you'd best move quickly. The Sisters are roaming tonight, and they aren't pleased.." He chuckled darkly as distant wails echoed through the woods. His bony hand equipped the aged cane and set it on the forest floor at his feet, his back still facing the unease lapine. "The Gentleman was not very polite at all, I'm afraid. So if I may ask... Do you have a name, child?" The lady was starting to tremble and perspire in fear. This person was starting to remind her of her previous encounter and she had no desire to see his face. The young rabbit started to edge her way around the man and his ladder and bugs... wait, where are the bugs?. "Uhm, yes. The Nightfall Inn and the... 'Sisters'?" the frighten lady stated. "Oh, yeah. My name is Latricia" A dark smile spread across his face as the woman announced her name. It rung like chimes in his ears as they twitched. The fox straightened from a slight slouch and turned around slowly, the flickering light overhead failing to light all of his face. Half remained in darkness, but both of his eyes, glowing dimly, were very clearly set on the trembling woman's form. He spoke as he turned to face her. "Latricia... of course. A perfect name. You may call me... Remorse." As he faced the woman, an old beaten leather shoe crushed a lone cockroach beneath it, the others having scattered into the darkness which seemed to cling to his body like the filth of his old suit. The newly placed light did little to illuminate him beyond short glimpses. Enough to distinguish the wear of his attire, which looked as though he'd been dragged through the dirt or pulled from a grave. His face, though half in darkness did not show much wear, like the other gentleman known as Valentine, but it shared the rough, smudged look. When Remorse's eyes fell upon the woman they immediately showed a hint of surprise, identifiable as nothing more than a flicker in their glow. The hat she wore was indeed familiar, even to him. His smile faded and his eyes narrowed slightly. "Who gave you that hat?" he inquired sternly. Latricia edged her way past the corpse like man, never letting those ember glowing eyes leave hers. The chill of the air surrounding the man seemed to get colder as he got agitated at the site of the old top hat. "Oh, this? Found it along the way and thought it might belong to another traveler at the inn," she explained while hurriedly backing away from the fox. "I'd better hurry along. Don't want to be seen by the Daughters, er I mean Sisters." The slim fox chuckled as a bitter grin marred his face. "Of course, my dear Latricia, of course. Many travelers have lost their belongings on this path. Give me the hat and I'll see that it gets returned to its owner." His tone had become caustic as he raised his arm towards the woman. There was an air of impending danger surrounding the woman and it had little to do with the blackness beyond the dimly lit corridor of path. Remorse reeked of foulness and possibly death. All around the fox and the rabbit the woods trembled right down to the leaves littering the ground. Something had found them and it was approaching. The slick businessman seemed to be aware of it too, because his bitter grin twisted into one of sick pleasure. "Better hurry, dear, they're on their way." The chill going down Latricia's spine had nothing to do with the cold wind hitting the fear induced sweat that dampened her fur. Remorse's whole manner had gone beyond threatening. A presence had come upon the two. It felt similar to the wailing girl but different all the same but just as threatening if not worse. The path behind the man seemed to twist unnaturally, like syrup slowly going down a drain. The lightening bug bulbs started to turn red, first at the far end of the slowly twisting and now gravity defining road. As each bulb turning red got closer and closer, the sound of tiny screams could be heard from the blinking insects from the bulbs above. The bugs were screaming with the voices of pained children. Latricia looked up at the bulb above the man to see it turn red with a popping sound as the screams went silent. Then everything went back to the way it was except for the impending doom coming from down the path. Leaving the gun in place, she moved her hand from under the coat and grabbed the hat from her head and turned to run, not from the man and his reaching hand but from something that she sensed was far worse. Just as Latricia turned to flee, out of the darkness before her erupted a piercing, wailing wall of blackness that tore past her in thick curling clouds, threatening to push her to the ground. The cries spoke of anger, terror and menace as two forms emerged. Both glowed fiery hot, casting a blinding mix of red and white. The first, burning with rage, was an otter older in age than the ferret girl prior, and much farther decomposed. The second, burning white hot, was nothing but bone and torn fabrics flapping like mad in the wind. Her fury seemed to almost dwarf her sister in comparison. The woods stood petrified in their presence, and Remorse.. he just chuckled hollowly as he strode towards them. He passed uncomfortably close to Latricia with the odor of sickening rot in his wake as he viciously snatched the hat from the stunned doe. Continuing onward, he turned around and swung his arms out wide with a slight bow to the woman, his form silhouetted by the two banshees as they radiated intense heat, carried on the winds as they pushed past Remorse. He seemed delighted in the most dark, heinous manner imaginable. "I'm afraid you're too late, my dear Latricia. The sisters have arrived. This is most unfortunate. I had high hopes for you.." His menacing tone implied otherwise as he held up the hat as though it were a sign of the woman's defeat. As it past in front of the hideous personage of the red-radiating banshee, a curious thing began to occur. At first it seemed to radiate a darkness of its own, in a fine mist, but just as it started to obscure the glow of the second-oldest sister, the mist snapped back into the hat. Almost immediately after the entire hat, starting from the bloodied ribbon, began to glow a whiteness that almost seemed to trump that of the oldest sister as both banshees began to wail, the younger in terror and the older in an unsightly rage. In an instant the hat seemed to vanish in a flash of consuming light so blinding and deafening that even the dirty businessman was shocked to have his cloak of darkness torn away as he recoiled. "No!" he howled, his voice drowned out as the younger sister was consumed and banished by the overwhelming light. "You!" he snapped venomously at the woman as he strode violently towards her, his retreated darkness revealing the true nature of his forgone state. Half of his face, that had been in darkness, was nothing but sinew and torn flesh. He charged toward her with vileness in his eyes. The shock of the horrific appearance of the sisters stunned the the white rabbit in mix of fear, disgust, and an unforgiving dread knowing that she was about to die. Until the hat was snatched from her hand. Remorse's victory over her snapped her back into a more conscious state of mind and gave her something else to focus on other than the two true horrors floating and shrieking behind him. Then the hat took life of its own and exploded in a flash of deafening light that seemed to truly consume the undead kin. And with Remorse fully revealed and in his vengeance fueled charge at Latricia, he failed to notice the ancient Colt revolver that was now held in both her hands and aimed in his direction. (BANG!) =3