On the edge of the oncoming night there's a sound, a sound so quiet it might as well be a whisper in the wind. You hold your breath, listening, and there is silence – almost as if the sound is holding its breath in turn, listening to you. Slowly you relax, the silence lulling you to a state of calm.

There was nothing there.

Then the noise begins again, soft like the touch of a foot against dust, like fingers scratching in the sand and you feel the fear starting to take you again.

You back away slowly, but it doesn't matter anymore. The noise has taken the form of a dark shadow in the gloom – it's getting closer. And then finally the shape takes a form, a face, and you blink slowly as the calm returns to you.

Hello there. Says a soft voice, you smile at the sheer normality and nod slowly in return, your eyes drinking in the stranger.

Lank ash-blonde hair frames a gaunt face. She's dressed demurely in a long sleeved, ivory dress. Her feet have no shoes; they are clad only in stockings. She's not quite pretty, but you find you can't take your eyes away from her.

What's your name? You ask finally, the words forcing themselves past the obstruction your tongue seems to have become. You flush slightly as she seems to notice the stumble in your words.

My name? She sighs, ha, not even I know it these days, I go by many. You can call me… Kye.

You grin weakly at the strange welcome, but you can feel yourself relaxing, it's not like this girl is going to hurt you. Kye smiles back at you and holds out a hand for you to take. As she does so her long sleeve slips back and you recoil in horror. Her arms are missing huge lumps of flesh, the muscle and sinew gleam wetly in the darkness from amongst the ruined skin. As you watch another chunk slowly disappears, ripped from her arm – as if the shadows themselves were devouring her slowly.

She watches you sadly as you turn to run. She expected it, but that doesn't make the rejection any less painful.

As you run, trying to escape from the nightmare that the night has become you hear her voice echoing softly after you…

This, is my sacrifice.

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Sometimes, she thinks it would be easier to forget. She wouldn't have to stand teetering on the edge of oblivion; she could give herself to the freefall of chaos.

Alas, she cannot. It had started as an innocent bargain, a way to save her body from the harshness of life, in exchange for her service. Now, it is a curse.

Gone are the soft laughs, the trivial joys of life. Instead she hangs in between the kingdoms of life and death – a soulless ghost, waiting until the day someone accepts her hand, and she can move on.

To where? Not even she remembers.