The bang echoed through the room, a beat of silence following just moments after. The blonde woman slumped to the ground, her mouth opened in a never-ending gasp, a bullet hole in her forehead, her eyes wide open; lifeless.

"MAMA!"

Her voice was high pitched, a shriek. The culprit turned to her, a girl maybe ten years older than herself. Black hair framed her face, piercing green eyes staring at her intently. She walked slowly, cautiously; a tiger stalking its prey. She knelt down to her height, her eyes glaring, "What's your name?" her voice was harsh, a hint of warmth deep, deep down.

She remained silent.

The woman glared even more, her eyes narrowing impossibly. "Tell me your name," tears flowed once more. The teenager pulled a knife from a belt on her side, waving it dangerously close to her face; she leant away from it. "Tell me your name, brat. If you don't… well," she smirked, "…I can promise you won't like the outcome."

Her voice wouldn't work, she tried commanding it; only to fail. She pushed herself, a sob escaping her. She was terrified, the knife rested on the underside of her chin, prodding the skin softly.

"I don't have all day."

"Lucy…" her tiny voice whispered.

"Well, Lucy," the woman smiled sickly, her voice becoming too sweet; too suffocating. She moved the knife away, pointing it at her mother, "She's having a rest, OK. And she won't be waking up for a little bit,"

"Is she sick?" the girl nodded, pursing her lips,

"She is incredibly sick," her eyes drifted to the corner. She tapped the knife against her lip, her look contemplative. "We're going to play a game, OK?" Lucy nodded hastily, "Do you know hide and seek?" Lucy nodded. "Well, I'm going to hide and I want you to count in the corner." Lucy nodded, "Then you need to find me."

She stood, turning Lucy around and took her by the shoulders, directing Lucy to the corner, sitting her down. "To ten?" Lucy asked.

"To ten," the woman confirmed.

"1"

The woman turned, her feet tapping lightly on the tiled floor.

"2"

She picked up her gun and bag off the floor.

"3"

She stared at her latest victim; scrutinising her.

"4"

She knelt down, using her gloved fingers to close the woman's eyes.

"5"

She stood once more, moving towards the window.

"6"

She flicked up the lock, pushing up the framed glass.

"7"

She climbed through, making sure not a trace of her was left behind.

"8"

She closed it securely again, her eyes staying on the little girl.

"9"

She smiled sadly, and turned around.

"10"

And she vanished into the night.

Lucy turned, "Ready or not…" her voice trailed off, somehow she knew the woman was gone.

And suddenly, the room felt much, much colder.

She looked at her mother on the floor, her eyebrows creasing in the centre as she frowned. She moved closer, sitting next to her, poking at her ribs. "Mama?" She received no response, she pulled on her mothers cheeks. "Mama!" She pushed her side, shaking her with all the strength she possessed. Her mother lay still, not even a groan of protest. "MAMA, WAKEUP!" Her voice shook and her tears welled once more, flowing out of her eyes. She sat crying, helplessness shaking her very core, waiting for her mother to sit up and wipe away her tears.

The red liquid around her seemed to want to spread, but as the sun rose over the horizon, it became sticky, stopping entirely. The birds began singing as a new day approached, and yet Lucy couldn't find it in herself to step away.

She heard keys being pushed into the front look, heard the tell-tale humming of her cleaner. "Ms Spetto," she mumbled, "Ms. Spetto, help!" the humming stopped, fast footsteps came towards her. She looked as the woman came into the dining room, watching the woman's hands fly to her mouth. Lucy's voice shook, "Ms Spetto, Mama's sick, she needs help!"

"Lucy," she swallowed, "Lucy, come away from there, dear."

"Will you help Mama?" Ms Spetto nodded.

"You have to come here though, I need to check," she sobbed, "I need to see if your sick too," Lucy made her way to her slowly, reluctant to leave her mother. The lady knelt down, examining her, "Now, Lucy, I need you to stay in the kitchen, I need," her old voice cracked, "I need to call the doctor, understand." She didn't wait for Lucy's response, just stood and walked with Lucy into the kitchen, pulling out a crate for her to sit on. "Someone will come in and get you, OK, but do not leave until then, alright."

"Mama's going to be OK, right?" Ms Spetto only sobbed.

Lucy could barely hear the voices outside, she heard the occasional murmurs, the electronic click of cameras the sobbing of Ms Spetto. Voices grew louder and louder, and soon enough she could hear people approaching the revolving door.

"She's in here," she recognised Ms Spetto's voice.

"Please wait outside ma'am,"

The door opened, a man walked in slowly, he was short, with white hair, a friendly air surrounding him. "Aah," he said quietly, as if not knowing she would be in the room. "You must be Lucy," she nodded, her brow furrowing in confusion. "I'm Makarov,"

"Are you the doctor?" she asked. He raised his bushy eyebrows. "Are you here to make Mama better again?"

He licked his lips, looking at the floor, he pulled a crate from the corner, sighing, "Mind if I sit?" Lucy shook her head. "Well, Lucy," he breathed in, plopping himself onto the blue crate. "I'm a policeman; a detective actually." He coughed, choosing his words carefully. "I have spoken with the doctor and she thinks your mother needs to be... taken somewhere else."

"What's wrong with her?" Makarov clicked his tongue quietly, the door opened, a woman with pink hair entered. He looked at her, and then back at Lucy.

"She isn't very well, Lucy." Makarov said.

"Is she going to get better?" He looked back towards the woman, she looked away.

"I'm afraid not."

"What's going to happen then?"

"We're going to take your mother away,"

"Am I going to see her again?" her eyes filled with tears,

"It's unlikely." Lucy's lips trembled, her breathing quickening. "We think," he looked at the older woman, "That someone made her sick." Lucy cried silently, her voice hoarse,

"Was it the girl?" Their eyebrows collectively rose.

"What girl, Lucy?" Makarov asked.

"The one with the gun,"

Makarov's face became ashen, a shiver running down his spine. He stared at her long and hard, his eyes narrowing and softening with each second. His eyes narrowed once more. "We think so," he slowly regained his composure.

"The one that wanted to play a game?" The woman walked forward.

"What game, Lucy?" she asked.

"Hide and Seek." They frowned, "I had to count while she hid. She left before I turned around."

"What did she look like?"

"She was really pretty."

"Pretty?" the woman asked, shocked.

"Like model pretty," Lucy giggled softly, she looked up her eyes wide, her eyes lighting up. "I could draw you a picture!"

"A picture?" Lucy nodded.

"I need my crayons though." She frowned.

"Where are they?" Lucy grinned,

"They're in my room, I'll go get them," she stood from the crate, Makarov reacted first and took hold of her shoulder, he nodded at the woman.

"You can't leave just yet, OK?" Lucy frowned,

"Why not?"

"…Because we're still treating your mother."

"I thought you said she was too sick." Makarov nodded,

"I did say that, but the doctor is trying some… new medicine." Lucy sat up straighter,

"Is that going to work?" he sighed heavily,

"They have to take her somewhere else to see."

"Where's she going?" Lucy smiled, "Is she going on a holiday to get better?"

"Yes," he answered quickly, his eyes searching hers. "She's going on a holiday,"

"When will she be back?"

"We don't know, but, she is going to be very happy there."

The woman re-entered the room, holding a box of crayons and some paper. She handed them to Lucy.

She sat on the floor, taking out a black crayon, she drew her hair, making sure it reached just pass the stick figures waste. She got a pink colour next, drawing on the smile. Then with a green crayon she coloured the eyes. She handed it back to the lady with pink hair. The woman smiled tightly.

"Can I ask you a question?" the woman frowned,

"You just did." Lucy giggled, holding up to of her fingers,

"Can I ask two then?" the woman raised an eyebrow and slowly nodded.

"You only have one question left," Lucy smiled slightly.

"I know." Her face straightened. "If I get sick do I go on holiday too?" the woman bent, sighing, her knees cracking, she frowned once more.

"No," the woman shook her head. "One day though, you will get sick, you will go away and you will see your mother, but that will be a very long way away."

Lucy nodded and looked back down at her drawing. She looked back up. "Mama's dead isn't she?" The woman's eyes opened in surprise. She sighed softly,

"Yes." Lucy smiled sadly, "Yes she is."

"At least she can see daddy now." she whispered.

The door opened, Makarov held it wide and smiled apprehensively. "It's time to go, Lucy."

She paused, "Where are we going?"

"Somewhere… that give new beginnings." The woman with pink hair smiled and nodded; agreeing.

"Why?" he didn't hesitate in answering.

"Because you deserve it much more than you realise."

He guided her through the door, into the living room; she caught a glimpse of the corner she had sat in.

"Well, I'm going to hide and I want you to count in the corner." She had nodded at the girl's words. "Then you need to find me."

Lucy looked at the now empty place her mother once lay. She closed her eyes; when she opened them, she was glaring; the woman's face so clear in her vision.

'Ready or not, here I come.'

Have been thinking of this for awhile, let me know if you guys want more, I have ideas brewing.

If I do continue with this, I have no idea when I will update.

Review are appreciated.

Until next time :)

~MyFictionalFantasy