Prologue:

The night was dark, blacker than black, and every little snap of a twig nearly drove him to insanity. The hike had been a dare, something he had readily agreed to, mainly to impress the many ladies there. Though, he now realized, it probably hadn't been worth it. There had been stories about these woods, stories of disappearing night-hikers, campers, and forest rangers. All at night, and their bones were always found, in the morning, picked clean and white, accenting their demonic grins of death. These images haunted him as he stumbled through the thick brush.

The air grew thick with the stench of bog decay, warm and smoggy. As if it reached up just to trip him, he tripped over a protruding tree root. Cussing angrily, he stood, brushing dirt off his clothes and examining the grimy wounds in his hands and knees. He was just about to give up and march right back to his house, when another being stumbled out of the brambles.

She was absolutely gorgeous, but not in the way that the girls at the party. She was angelic, with dark hair, porcelain-pale skin, moon-shaped grey eyes…he found himself melting into those eyes, insubstantial, weightless, floating. Then, to his immense surprise, she ran towards him.

"Are you alright?" she cried. Even in his beauty-induced stupor, he noticed that her voice was off…too stiff, unnatural. But he didn't have a chance at this point.

She held his hand, examining the bloody wounds. He puffed out his chest, wanting to seem brave for this beauty. "It's nothing, really." But he didn't pull his hand away from her…her skin was so smooth, so soft…

She looked at him sadly. "But it is something." And then, with sad look in her smoky eyes, she whispered, "I'm so sorry." And she took a step back.

This was the signal. Four black shapes dove for the man, pining him to the ground, snapping his neck. He was dead in seconds, a painless death, and three of the four hags lifted him between them. The fourth stepped over to the pretty girl, placing her hand on her shoulder. "You did well tonight, Iris. Perhaps you could try-" The girl called Iris pulled away, turning her back on the hag.

"No, Mother, I will not." She spoke firmly, not like someone submissive to every wish. Her voice had changed since she had spoken to the poor man, the now-dead man…She shuddered at the thought. It was firmer, and slightly rougher. "This is disgusting," She hissed through her teeth. It could happen every night for the rest of her existance, and she would never get used to it.

Her mother shook her head, tuning back to the bog and walking away. "I will never understand you, girl." She sank into the muck, following her sisters.

Iris watched her go, a single spark of menace in her pale grey eyes. "And I hope you never get the chance, Mother." She turned and walked away.

A/N

Was this ok? Wow, I've been working on this story since last summer...it's taken a long time to get down....Thanks to Kalvin (If that's how you spell your name). You obnoxious twit, thanks for stealing the original copy of this story. :( Meany. Anyway, please R&R!