A small shadowy figure kneeled in the attic corner with only a dim candle illuminating her alabaster face. Outside a wicked summer storm howled across the midnight sky. The whole house groaned at the force of it but the girl paid it no heed.

Round and round she twisted a strand of raven hair around her finger as her dilated eyes almost entirely black seemed stared at nothing on the wall in front of her. Eaddagh, cree , aggle , feddan, she whispered over and over and her finger traced droplets of crimson red and ashes of black into old worn spiral etchings on the wooden floor. Faster and faster she hoarsely spoke her chant. Faster and faster her finger circled on the floor until the marks began to glow a faint red, a glow that was mirrored in her eyes. The light was ever growing brighter and hotter in her spiral and on her face. Her eyes shown as two bloody lamps and the light became flames. They consumed but did not kill their maker. They wrapped round her…. and transformed.