A soft breeze ruffled my hair as and faint whispers of scattered words slithered from every direction.
“Desirae,” a soft voice sang, gently louder than the rest. I reeled around and looked to the right; no one was there. I moved my gaze to the left, yet the orator of the voice remained unseen.
An aroma of sweet-smelling cologne pervaded the air, teasing my nose. I brushed my awareness of the vague familiarity begging to fill my mind with something rather than empty memories, and listened closer for a second calling.
“Desiraaae,” a husky voice called my name, harsher than the first one. My ears perked up for a moment, then my hopes drooped; the voices were so conversant, but it was all too ambiguous.
A swarm of bats swooped overhead, and I ducked with a yelp as they passed to the northern extent of the woods. Hastily, I moved forward. The echo of a thin twig cracking permeated the woods, sending a chill down my back as the visual of several unpleasant creatures awakening lingered in sight.
“Desiraaaee… go on…” the voices began to fade as a stroke of recollection hit me. I grasped the memory I was looking for, and I knew that if I didn’t hurry; everything was going to disappear like it had before.
“Desiraaeee,” the whisper sang again in a tone bribing me forth.
I cautiously peered ahead, where the tiny house stood, looking as it had every time before: rusty red, and deserted.
Vigilantly, but hurriedly, I entered, unprepared for the painful image. My heart fluttered rapidly, and my feet clamped. There I was, dead; skin paled and a knife pierced through my heart. Blood slid down my torso, and settled into a puddle I was lying in. I squeezed my eyes shut, but the image had already sewn itself to the inside of my eyelids. I strained to turn and run, but all I could do was stand there and scream.
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