The hunter thundered down the road, hugging his rifle to his chest as he hurried down the dirt path. Water squelched under his feet unpleasantly as the rain lashed down, soaking the panicked middle-aged man as he sought out his missing daughter. Rainwater drenched the surroundings and made running difficult if one didn't want to turn an ankle. But caution was the furthest thing from the hunter's mind.

"VIOLA!" the hunter shouted into the wilderness, impatiently waiting for a reply as he sprinted across the forest. Overhanging branches and knobby roots threatened to rip his flesh and trip him over, but his pace remained hasty and quick. The hunter had returned home from a rather long day of hunting only to realize the devastating truth – that his 14 year-old daughter, Viola, was missing from the house. He had searched every nook and cranny for the absent girl but to his horror, he emerged with unsuccessful results. That was when he retrieved his gun and charged out into the rain, hoping to locate his child.

"Viola, please! Where are you?" the hunter screamed again. The sky was darkening and lightning lanced across the cold air, frightening in the rainstorm. The hunter usually would've despised venturing out in such freezing, unforgiving weather, but nothing would stop him from searching for his lost daughter. Viola was a timid girl and the hunter would never forgive himself if he found her harmed in some way. Obviously the child had gotten distracted by some unique flower or interesting animal and decided to explore the forest despite his warnings. It had happened before, but usually Viola would pop up less than 2 minutes into his search.

But today was different.

He had been scampering all throughout the forest for Viola for an hour, yelling her name until his voice had gone hoarse – and still, the blonde girl made no sign of appearing. For the first few minutes into his search, the hunter suspected some sort of foolish game and that Viola would come dashing out of a pile of bushes anytime – but soon enough, he could sense that something had gone horribly amiss. Where had his beloved child gone?

"Viola!" the hunter shouted futilely in the rain, his voice tinged with sadness and panic. He wanted to sink to his knees and weep for his foolishness – for leaving his young daughter alone for nearly the entire afternoon. But a part of him refused to give up, and the thought that Viola was somewhere out in this storm, shivering and frightened, pushed him onward. Just as he was peering behind a clump of shrubbery, the hunter's eyes widened and he gaped at what he saw beyond – a humongous house loomed from the forest, nearly invisible in the darkening sky and hidden beneath years-worth of ivy and moss. The windowpanes were shattered, sprinkling the sills with glass. And the swinging doors were slightly ajar as if someone – not long ago – had set foot upon this ancient threshold.

Cautiously, the hunter rose from his crouched position behind the bushes, approaching the imposing structure with careful steps. He was unsure of why, but something about this building seemed unnerving – and a bit familiar. He was quite sure he had seen it before, but whatever made it seem so was hidden underneath the greenery that covered it. As he was nearing the creaking doors, he realized something – there was an exceptional lack of animals in this area. Usually every part of the forest was an ideal dwelling for birds, small creatures and the like, but this location was eerily silent and free of the normal sounds a forest held.

Shoving down his rising apprehension, the hunter eased the door open further with the tip of his boot and peeked in, gun at the ready. The inside was a cluttered mess of crumbling furniture and rotting plants. A trail of blood soaked into the carpeting and made the hunter shudder, as if something or someone – someone hurt very bad – had crawled his/her way out the door…or in.

This type of thinking wasn't helping his situation one bit, but the hunter couldn't help but think these morbid ideas. Could it be some sort of monster? And…could he be sharing a house with it as he spoke?

At the thought of monster, the hunter was flashed back to a very memorable day – Viola fleeing from a house and clinging onto his arm, fearfully regarding a mutilated looking thing that was crawling towards her. The thing that vaguely resembled a human being, the thing that had gurgled out an incomprehensible word at his presence…but he never got to know what it was, as the three shots of his gun had finished the gruesome entity once and for all. But suddenly a horrid thought wormed its way into his head – the thing seemed to be AFTER Viola, but for what reason was beyond him. Could it be possible that it had lived? That it managed to seek out Viola….that it managed to drag her back to this place?

"No!" the hunter cried, refusing to believe the thought. Readying his weapon, the middle-aged man began to search the premises for Viola. The large dwelling housed a lot of rooms that he had to search thoroughly and he wasn't even halfway through when he was sweat-soaked and exhausted. Still no sign of Viola.

"Can I help you, sir?"

At the sound of an unfamiliar voice, the hunter leapt up, gun pointed. A girl about Viola's age stood behind him, hands behind her back in a formal posture. Purple locks of hair spilt down a shoulder in a messily done ponytail, several strands escaping the large red bow used to tie it up. A bright red satin dress was worn over a white blouse which slapped at her knees, and her red eyes examined his curiously. A small flicker crossed her polite face when the hunter faced her, but it was subtle and was easily missed by the man. The hunter lowered his gun and gazed at the girl with bemusement. How had she gotten here? And just like the house, he figured something about her was strangely familiar…like danger was attached to her or something…

"Sir?"

"Oh, yes!" the hunter stuttered, pointing his gun to the ground. "I'm…I'm looking for my daughter. She's about this tall, with blonde hair and green eyes…"

The girl's eyes widened as if a thought hit her. "Oh, I see. Well, a girl that matches your description came by, harried and panicked. I directed her to my bedroom so she could stay the night while I helped her look for her parent."

Relief flooded the hunter's senses. Viola was here, and she was safe. "Thank you…I was really worried about her. She always likes to go for walks, but she sometimes gets carried away."

The girl smiled kindly. "I understand that. I was a little like that…before," the girl seemed slightly sad, hinting at a heartrending past, but quickly recovered herself. She gestured to herself with a hand as she introduced herself politely. "My name is…Ella. You can find your daughter up this flight of stairs. Right side, the second door."

The hunter nodded gratefully and walked around the girl, tottering up the steps in eagerness to reunite with his daughter. Silly Viola…he was going to tell her off for running into the forest like that. It was fortunate that she had run into this girl, Ella. Though even her name sounded vaguely familiar. Ella….

The hunter stopped dead, recalling the note he had given to Viola on that fateful day.

Dear Viola,

I'm sorry I got mad at you the other day. There's a rumor that a witch lives in the forest and kidnaps children who get lost there. Your friend Ellen lives very close to the forest, right? I don't mind if you go to her house….

Ellen. Viola's friend's name was Ellen – eerily close to 'Ella'. And her looks…she resembled the horrifying thing that had trailed Viola on that very same day. A horrific figure without any eyes and bleeding stumps for legs…but he had remembered how that terrifying creature had looked like; purple hair, red bow, red dress…

Suddenly, he knew he had made a grave mistake.

"Oh, no!" the hunter turned around to leave, but the last thing he saw before a loud bang sounded was a pistol being shoved in his face.

Ella watched as her father hit the ground, his face still contorted in a look of surprise. A gaping hole had been blown into his skull which leaked blood rapidly, staining the carpeting in a crimson shade. Ella lowered her smoking gun and gazed down at the body with misty eyes. He would've never believed her if she said the truth – her father might've been scared of witches, but he passed them on as nothing but tales from paranoid villagers. He was only concerned over her safety that day because he was scared that this 'witch' might've been another word to say 'kidnapper' since children from their village had gone missing. He would never have believed that a girl that resembled that 'monster' would actually be his daughter.

"I'm sorry…daddy," Ella murmured, shutting the corpses eyes and clinging tightly to his stiff arm. "But at least you'll be with mom."