Tick...Tick...Tick… the sounds of Annabelle's table clock romanced her ears as her conscious mind wandered between full consciousness and an endless sleep.

  She turned, a bright smile on her face as she opened her eyes to check the clock.

  "12:00 am. There's still time," she muttered to herself, letting out a lazy stretch, flailing her limbs around.

  I'm glad it's all over, she thought, as she closed her eyes to go back to sleep. A gentle breeze blew through Anna's room, pouring in from the windows that she had left open.

  As she slowly fell asleep, the wind started getting more intense.

  Maybe I should close the windows, she thought, as she lazily got out of bed, sliding her feet into her soft bunny flip flops.

  Walking towards the window, she paused.

  What is this unfamiliar chill? She reached for the window.

  The feeling got more intense as her fingertips got even closer to the windows.

  She touched the window, and then a gust of wind threw her several feet backwards, crashing her against the wall of her room.

  The room started to spin, as her head throbbed with pangs of pain. Clutching the back of her head, squinting, she stood to her feet.

  The wind got even more violent, flailing her windows as it crashed into her room. Attempting to make her way towards the windows, she was thrown back again, but this time, pinned to the wall.

  She opened her mouth to scream for help but nothing came out. Just gusts of wind in a failed attempt to talk.

  She struggled, putting all her effort into breaking free from the strange hold that kept her against the wall, but no matter how hard she fought, the results were the same.

  Heart beat intensifying, breath getting shorter, her eyes darted around the room, as thoughts of her violent past, and everything that happened with Mrs. Crow and the gang assaulted her mind.

  Soon, Anna had given up.

  She closed her eyes, expecting what would happen next, when a loud deafening noise filled the room, shortly followed by a blue crackling portal.

  She watched blue lightning seem to tear through thin air, until the lightning bolt expanded into a blue glistening portal.

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  Mouth agape, she glared intentionally.

  Then something jumped at her.

  Retaliating, she screamed at the top of her voice.

  My voice is back? She thought, closing her eyes and started to beg.

  "Please don't kill me, please I'd do anything!" she said in a quivering voice, covered in sweat, her eyes still closed.

  "Annabelle." A familiar female voice called out to her.

  Recognizing the voice, she slowly opened her eyes, to see a badly wounded Mrs. Crow, in front of her, barely standing on her feet. Her face was covered in deep cuts, some of her fingers were missing, and her legs were decorated with scars that seemed to be caused by giant claw marks.

  The portal behind her was gone as well.

  "Mrs. Crow!" Annabelle screamed, as she fell off the wall onto the ground. She scrambled to her feet, quickly catching Crow who was on the brink of losing consciousness.

  "I'm sorry for trashing your room," Mrs. Crow said in a raspy voice.

  Anna quickly glanced around her room and, "Forget about that! What the heck happened to you? And why are you not healing?" She asked in an elevated tone.

  Mrs. Crow said something but Annabelle did not hear although she saw her lips move.

  "What did you say?" Anna asked, as she leaned forward to hear what Crow wanted to tell her.

  Putting her ears just a few millimeters from Crow's lips, "He's back," Crow said.

  "He's back. We have to warn the others."

  "Who is back?” Anna asked, a look of concern on her face.

  "What are you talking about?" she asked again, as Crow lost consciousness.

  "Who is back?! Who did this to you? Hey, can you hear me? Crow? Crow? Crow!"

  ***

  Crow opened her eyes.

  She was still in Anna’s room. She looked around for a while, seeming to forget what had happened.

  “Anna!” she screamed, jumping to her feet. She ran towards Anna’s door and grabbed it, but something strange happened; she grabbed air.

  What is this? Some kind of spell? She thought, grabbing at the handle again, but it was like she was grabbing a hologram.

  “Crow of the Blackwater,” a voice said behind her.

  She spun around in fear to see who had spoken.

  It was a bald monk with a soft smile on his face. He was a bit skinny, and he had huge red prayer beads around his neck. He also wore red beads on his wrist; one per wrist. He had no shoes on, and he wore a gold-colored robe.

  “Annabelle Peterson doesn’t exist,” he said softly.

  “What nonsense is this? Is this an illusion? Release me at once!” she screamed. She wanted to attack, but her instinct told her she could not have beaten the monk before her.

  He sighed, still smiling.

  “You need to accept the truth.” He took a few steps towards her, and got close enough until she could see his blue-colored eyes.

  “She died hundreds of years ago.”