As the sun was setting in the far West Horizon, the evening seemed splendid. Whispers and condolences of the final monotone of a sad song had ended. The woman was young, her eyes- a beautiful shade of black were transfixed as she stared at the ravens in the uphill where the orange ball was setting. Tabitha's face was fair, calm with lines that bespoke of repression and a certain strength. However, there was a dull stare in her eyes, whose gaze was fixed away off yonder on one of those patches of the grey sky. It wasn't a glance of reflection rather than a glance that indicated a suspension of intelligent thought.
There was something to her and she was waiting for it fearfully. What was it? She did not know; it was far too subtle and exclusive to recognize or touch. It was creeping out of the sky. Tabitha could feel it reaching her with impeccable speed. That sound from the sky rumbled till it shook her bones, through the sounds, the scenes, the color was fading around her. When the first heavy droplet fell from the sky, she realized it. She had a voice_ but she could not speak, she had ears _ but she could not hear. Her chest rose and fell, it was coming, gnawing at her skin; crawling inside her bones. Calling to her, whispering sweet madness in her ears. Tabitha began recognizing that it was approaching to posses her, striving to beat it back with her will, as powerless as her two white slender hands would have been.