Leslie laughed and blew a kiss to Alain; she thought of him as a surrogate brother and had told him as much when she took him to her secret spot. The air was crisp and fresh, the sun just barely peeking over the trees with their new leaves and flower buds dotting the branches. They walked along through the already tall grass of the field that led to the forest where her secret spot awaited.

Leslie laughed and grabbed at Alain?s hand, urging him to move faster; to run with her.

?It?s not much further, Alain??

Suddenly, the scene changed. It was dark and Leslie was crying. She was seated in a chair, her vibrant pink hair covering her face. A spike was driven through her hand. She screamed.

?Do you know why I want to go, Sage?? Leslie?s pink hair fluttered in the light breeze that came from behind her.

?Yes, but you?re so young, Les?.? Her older brother, many inches taller than her and with the same bright pink colored hair stood before the barely 18 year old. He held her hands in his own and stared at the ground.

?I have to find him, Sage. I have to.?

It was dark again. Sobs echoed eerily inside the black; the smell of blood was thick in the air. Leslie?s head lifted and stared straight ahead, her eyes bulging freakishly. She said something, but it was as if the sound was on mute. Her lips continued to move and suddenly her head was ripped backwards as if by some invisible blow. Blood poured from her mouth.

Leslie cradled something in her hands gently as she sat on the porch steps of Cassandra?s house. Her sandaled feet tapped out a rhythm on the ground, stopping as the sound of footsteps approached. Cassandra stood behind Leslie, peering down into her younger sister?s lap where a little yellow duckling was cradled. Leslie beamed.

A small girl with bright blue hair waded in the surf, waving to someone out further in the water. She wore her hair in pigtails, no older than 6 or 7. It was a mostly empty beach on which she stood, one that stretched on as far as the eye could see in either direction. Palm trees were scattered in the distance and a few houses dotting the hills in the far off distance.

A man came up behind the girl and scooped her into his arms, pressing a kiss to her cheek. He was a large man with broad shoulders, a wide chest and strong arms. Large white wings were folded against his back, his wet hair dripping onto the little girls face as he nuzzled her.

?I love you, Leslie.?

?I love you too, Daddy.?

Dark. It was so dark. Her cries continued to echo on around her, even after Leslie had grown quiet. There was an image in a mirror. It was Leslie. She cried for her ?Daddy? and struggled against her bonds: the spikes driven through her flesh.

?This is it.?

?We?re here??

?Yes. My flowers.? Leslie tugged Alain towards a small patch of earth in a large clearing. She?d promised to take him here and show him where she spent most of her time. A stream ran along one side, tripping and bubbling over rocks and sticks along it?s path. Tall trees surrounded the clearing on every side , yet allowed ample amount of light to shine through to her flower garden. And oh, what a garden it was. Every single flower you could imagine, and some you couldn?t, grew on the small patch of dirt Leslie had portioned out.

?It?s where I come to think.?

?I can see why you?d come here.?

?I love you, Alain.? She hugged him.

Alain smiled.

And again, the scene changed. What was once a bright, happy memory now turned to an image likely to scar one for life. The mangled body of the 18 year old sat limply in her chair. There were voices? not easily distinguishable. They were neither male nor female. There were hands, but they were faded, just hands? no arms. They touched her body. Leslie screamed.

?Alain, come on! Chase me!? The carefree, social butterfly that she was laughed merrily as she ran ahead of him through the field, her long white dress billowing out behind her with each step taken. Laughing wildly as Alain did as he was bade, Leslie led him on a merry chase until they reached the woods.

Leslie turned to him and her smile faded. ?Why aren?t you chasing me anymore, Alain??

She reached for him, but the space between then stretched apart. ?Alain,? Leslie shouted, her voice cracking in terror. The woods behind her, the field surrounding them, and the blue sky above melted away. ?Alain, please! Come to me!? She began to cry and then she fell as their surroundings melted into black. Her screams echoed as she continued to hold her hands out to Alain, falling? falling? crying.

She was back in the chair again, an odd expression on her mangled face. Her body surged against her restraints as she cried out. It looked grotesquely like she was having a seizure of sorts. Finally, her body sagged against the chair, her head lolling to the side. The corners of her mouth turned up in a soft smile?and her eyes grew dark.

Her voice echoed through the scene: her dead body surrounded by three others standing around her. ?I need you.?

What if he'd asked for my number?
Hmm?
That boy. What if he hadn't gone away?

Alain's focus drifted in and out. Voices echoed to him as if from a great distance, and something intense, white-hot in his gut but detached left an odd ringing in his ears and blurred his vision. He followed the man from the Watch, who kept turning around, lips moving but Alain couldn't keep track of any of it. He knew he had to follow him, and heard himself asking when they'd found her. The cool morning nipped at his fingertips, and the dew from tall grasses soaked through his boots.

I'd have beaten him up.
That's so like men... and so like my brothers!
Aren't they in Hawaii?

His hand was on his gun, compulsively, as he hurried along. "When'd you see her last?" The guard kept looking over his shoulder as they passed trees. In the early morning, everything was covered with the same dull shadow, and Alain fancied none of it was real. "D'Mourir? Lad? When'd you see her last?" He found his voice again, and answered, "About ten last night." They were getting closer, and the little hairs all over his body stood on end, an unbearable foreboding, and he wanted to peel his skin off with his fingers...

Yeah, no big brothers here. You're kind of like a big brother... aren't you?
Think I could do that. Be your big brother in Rhy'Din.
Shway.

Leslie's sanctuary was eerie. Her flowers were wilted, and her bunny picked through the grass. There were... people everywhere, already. A man from the Guard, whose name escaped Alain, put a blanket over a sobbing young couple. Teenagers, who stammered something about a guardian wolf. The rest were from the Guard and the Watch, and a centaur looked on warily from the edge of trees, the furrow in his brow full of wisdom and disgust. "Oh, ye gods... another one of... these..." The man beside Alain bent over to vomit.

You'd look out for me like that, big brother?
Whenever I can.

Leslie was strung up between the trees, nailed to them, stripped naked. Her eyelids were missing, and her wide eyes coated red with blood that stained her cheeks in rivers, a mockery of tears. She was mangled beyond recognition, save for her pink hair, and the sickening fact that Alain knew, since the dream, something horrible had happened to her. And this was it.

Someone out there, some monster, saw the beauty of a flower, and loathed her because of it. Couldn't understand it, couldn't have it, and crushed her under its cruel heel.

"Why... why is she..."
"Alain, what are you doing here?"
"Get her down..."

His mind wandered again. The whole evening and the murder placed in context. He felt he'd been followed by something, like there'd been eyes on him, and dismissed it... they'd been at dinner together... she gave him a "crown" and bib... he'd watched her magic with flowers with a little smile... and then they'd parted ways.

And the monster that wanted something with them -- or maybe wanted something with Alain -- followed her and killed her. She'd been in a chair. There'd been more than one. And now she was...

"--know how it is, we've got to--"

Alain snapped back to reality, caught the tail end of a guard explaining why she was up there. He rounded on the man and gestured wildly at Leslie. "We can all see what's been done to her!" he roared. There was a long pause, as everyone stopped what they were doing to stare at him. He heaved a deep breath and continued. "She's been strung up and crucified between two trees! For the love of God, get her down and cover her up!"

There was another uncertain moment; then an officer in the Guard waved his hand to a couple of his men, and they set about getting her down. Someone asked Alain questions a couple of times, but again, he could barely hear. He'd be questioned. They told him they'd do it here and let him go -- that they knew him. After a minute, he waved them off and reeled back from the scene, head in his hands.

His knees buckled, and he fell to a kneel in the grass, head in his hands. He shut his eyes and opened them, again and again, and chanced another look at her.

There was a brown blanket, already soaked partway through, lying on the ground near where she'd been strung up, but the flowers didn't blossom where she lay.