:The Voice:

It was talking again. It was asking for something. She doesn't want to hear it. She wants to clamp her hands over her ears to block out its chatter, but it does no good. It goes on.

A hand covers one side of her face as her long bangs hide the other side as she rubs her face in nausea. She groans into the silence outside her head, the noise within rattling her.

She finally gives in. She begins to listen to its calls.

"I seek one thing from you, my sweet."

"What is it?" she cries to the voice inside.

"It belongs to your parents," it rasps.

Something that belongs to her parents? What treasure of her parents' could it desire? Why would it want her specifically to deliver?

"What is it?" she wails again.

"Sweet child, don't fret. I simply ask you to turn you home into a tomb."

"A tomb?"

"The very same, for what I desire lies within your mother's womb. You must do what I ask of you very soon; else it will be a breathing thing."

She nods in understanding, rising from her rocker. She glides across the room and down a flight of stairs. She drifts over to the kitchen counters, opening a drawer revealing several carving knives. She pulls one out and swiftly closes the drawer shut before she floats over to the drawing room and seats herself in a plush chair.

She sits still as a statue, hidden in the darkness of the room, watching the light recede from the hallway leading to the glowing kitchen of the setting sun. Only the crisp gleam of the blade breaks the darkness of the shadows as she waits.

Her home is dark and cold of nothingness when it whispers to her, "They're here."

Their laughter drifts through the air as they wander down the dank hall, calling her name. She gracefully rises from her chair and slips into the hall, blade hidden behind her back. Her dark intentions are disguised by that look of innocence.

She greets them and they jump in surprise by her sudden appearance. A smile stretches on her face, sadistic delight hidden underneath. She feels the voice inside grin with her as they see nothing out of the ordinary with her.

She reveals the blade that hid behind her. "Good night," she whispers and drives the blade in her father's heart. Warm, sticky blood oozing out onto her fingers and knife as her mother screams, heading straight for hysterics.

She pulls the blade from her father's chest and turns towards her mother, a horrified screech escaping her lips as she tumbles down in her terror. She slashes her mother's throat, her blood leaking in a gushing river. Griping the hilt of the knife, she digs the bloodied blade into her mother's belly, twisting and turning as she goes.

Her grin widens as she listens to her mother's strangled screams. The knife digs into the swollen flesh as she drives her fingers into the wound, tearing open her mother's stomach. Inside, she cuts and slashes, pulling out the unborn fetus of her sibling.

She stands tall, her arm stretched out, the cord attached to the little fetus clutched tightly in her hand. Her face darkens as she makes her offering.

"Thank you kindly, sweet child of blood."