To Kill a Child

She came in the night, and she took them away . . . all of the small children, the little ones. All of them. The streets were strangely quiet, void of cheery laughter and surprised shrieks. The parks were empty, the swings shifting mournfully in the chill wind, reminiscent of the soft hands of a little girl dreaming of flight. No boys ran in the fields, no baseball games were played in the streets. She had them all. And, one by one, they died. None suspected Her. None but I. And now, it is my time - my time for revenge. Are you listening? Then hear this, and heed well: Your time is near its end, Drainaith. I, the last of my bloodline, swear this - as you have killed innocents, so shall you be killed. So shall you die.

Tan'erth ducked his head under the edge of the long-abandoned slide to see the mangled body of a young girl sprawled across the gravel. Her throat had been jaggedly cut, the plain white shift she wore now stained scarlet by the loss of her life's blood. He gritted his teeth and kneeling, touched two gauntleted fingers to the pale forehead, brushing aside pathetic locks of gold. A single tear fell to wet the curls, before the body was consumed by cleansing flame. Tan'erth stood, trembling with rage.

"Your soul travels on, little one. And of the monster who did this? . . . She will pay." He lowered his head, and looked to the north. The moons were rising, and it was time to move on. Taking a single flower from a pouch on his belt, he dropped it softly onto the ashes that were even now being blown away by the wind.

I have no idea what exactly this is or where it'll go, but then again prologues aren't supposed to make sense, so I guess I'm safe for now.