The Tale of Abigail

Hurriedly, Abigail runs downstairs and smashes herself through the wooden door, ignoring the splinters stuck to her skin.
She is a bloody mess, but right now, cleanliness isn't her worse concern. Who was that? Or...what was that?
She tears through the sandy beach, the meadows, and hurls herself into the Woods. Her friend Sophie lives with her father, who is a guardsman, on the other side of the forest. She needs help, and she needs it now.

Abigail runs through the Woods, ignoring the sound of wolves and owls behind her- just get to Sophie, she tells herself fiercely. Get to Sophie and everything will be alright.

Suddenly, she trips on the empty shell of a turtle. She moans in agony when a splinter is pushed further into her flesh. She rises, her legs shaking from the pain of standing. When she holds up her head, she realizes that an old woman is standing in front of her.

"My my..." The old woman says gently, a sorrowful look on her face. "What is a poor girl like you doing in the forest...alone?" She holds out a withered hand. "Come with me to my house, dear." She smiles. "It's only a few meters from here, close to the Deadville Waterfalls."

"The Deadville Waterfalls?" Abigails hears herself say. "Isn't that..." She swallows. "Isn't that close to where a family disappeared last month?"

The old woman smiles- but this time, Abigail detects an icy-coldness behind the warmth. "Yes, it was. But I can assure you...it is safe."

Abigail stands there, trembling.