A little girl was sitting on a chair in a little house in the middle of nowhere.

Her golden hair was tied with a ribbon of lace,

and so were her arms, her legs, and her waist.

Her eyes were red, pained, and dry,

for she had no more tears left to cry.

Mommy stood there, hunched over the stove.

Her heart was pounding, but not out of love.

She sang a melody in a peculiar tongue,

from lands unknown to the humans above

And there in the air, both bitter and sweet

flew the aroma of freshly cooked meat.

She stirred the pot as she continued her tune,

the little girl’s eyes were brimming with gloom

“Please, let me go!” Shrieked the girl with a fright,

“I promise I won’t go anywhere during the night.”

But the woman didn’t bat an eye at her screams or requests,

To her, she was nothing but an annoying little pest.

“You need to grow strong, darling,” the woman said at last.

“You don’t want to be like your brother, do you now, love?”

Gritting her teeth, the girl reluctantly looked to her right,

Where stood a pile of bones and rotting flesh under the pale light.

The sibling she loved was now but a husk,

his soul left his body two nights ago at dusk.

“What is this nightmare?” The girl pondered out loud.

“Where is my real mom? You’re not her, I know.”

The woman turned to face the grieving daughter,

Her lips curled into a grin, as if she were leading a pig to a slaughter.

Her eyes were hollow, soulless, and dark.

There was no light, no hope, no spark.

“You’re a smart little vixen, I’ll give you that,” the entity said.

“We come from a land where everything is soaked in red.”

She poured the hot liquid into a bowl, filling it to the brim,

small chunks of bones, eyes, teeth, and fingers swimming within.

“You needn’t worry about a thing now,” she cackled loudly with a whoop.

“Hush now, darling. Eat your soup.