An old, weathered woman lay in a dingy, dark room. Violent coughs spat blood on torn, stained sheets. In the corner, a figure clothed in black, sat motionless, featureless, surrounded by the shadows.

  "Child, I am suffering." The old woman rasped between coughs.

"I know mother. There is nothing I can do." The figure shifted, pulling the black viel from her face to stare grudgingly at her mothers weak form. She stood, slowly moving over creaking boards, to stand by the bed.

"Mother, it's not fair. This disease is going to end us all. Those damn humans, it's all their fault!" the girl fumed, digging her nails into her palms until blood drew.

"Calm down my daughter, please. We cannot blame them." She reached out a brittle hand, trying to calm the young girl, only to have her hand slapped away.

  "How can you say that?! They're diseased! They're like walking petri dishes! How can you show compassion towards them?!" She paced the room; the silence in creating the illusion that the boards were about to break beneath her.

 "Child, I-" The poor woman choked, coughing vigorously.

 "Mother... Mother?!" she ran to her mothers aid, standing in shock as her mother heaved on the bed. Blood trickled down her chin as her exhausted body collapsed on the bed, her breath ragged and eyes bloodshot.The girl leaned over her mother, lifting the woman into her arms.

 "Mother I'm sorry.. please, just don't leave me." She cried silently as her mothers breath slowed, her eyes wandering.

 "Oh darling, it's so wonderful; your father is here with me." The womans gaze drifted to her daughters face, before she closed her eyes forever.

  The girl screamed in rage, tears streaked her eyeliner... Her empty eyes staring at her mothers corpse.

 "This is all their fault" she murmured, running from the room and down the hall.

  She entered a small room; it's only occupants being dust-covered, yellow paged book, and a small, used piece of chalk. She took the chalk and slowly staggered to the center of the room, dropping to her knees, and beginning her task.. She started with complicated designs; a mixture of foreign language, and perfectly drawn shapes, creating intricate patterns.

  With a finishing huff, she sat back on her heels, admiring the work that surrounded her. Pulling a dagger from her skirt, she closed her eyes and began to chant the same wierd language, humming some parts in a soft melody.

 Opening her eyes again, she casted her teary gaze upwards.

"Mother, I'm sorry." she whispered before plunging the knife deep into her arm, dragging the blade upwards. The red substance spewed from her arm, tracing the chalk outlines and making them glow a soft red.

"They must pay." she gasped, falling to the ground, dead.