Heriah found herself in a dark void of nothingness. There was no light but she could see her hand before her face as though there were. She cast no shadow but there was also nothing to cast shadows against. Looking around, Heriah found no light source. Her feet met no ground but felt as though they did. She looked around, turned as well, but found nothing. There was no horizon, no sky, no ground, nothing.

“Hello,” and no echo. Likewise there came no response. Sighing, Heriah realized there was no air but she breathed still. Moving her hand about, she felt no air for her fingers to move through.

“Strange. Is anybody here?” Still there came no response and no sign of anything but eternal emptiness.

“Cynndle,” was the first name she called out for. In this place, she was unsure why he had become her forethought, but the man somehow caught her attention. She really did not know anyone else that well.

“Dr. Longfellow,” though she did not know the man very well, she did confide in him.

Still, no response.

A child appeared before Heriah likewise illuminated by a light with an absent source.

“Hello,” she knelt down to him. “Do you know where I we are?”

“Shut up!” and the child slapped her. Standing in a start, Heriah pressed her hand against her cheek. The child had disappeared, scampered off without the slightest noise and without further violence.

“So, that child again.” Heriah recalled a dream from before where she found him in Bravo’s corridors, complete with the same display of harmless violence.

“I’m not harmless,” said the child’s voice.” The child stood before her again.

“Oh so you did not run off…like before?”

Kneeling just like before, Heriah asked a different question. “Do you know what this place is?”

“Shut up!” And the child slapped at her but missed. Heriah stood and dodged the harmless attack.

“It is you again.” She shrugged. “Just who are you?”

There came a giggling echo of children, perhaps three or more. This giggle somehow echoed in the eternal void. It filled her own very existence.

Looking around, “Yeah, nothing creepy about that.”

Another child, girl this time, stepped out from behind the first. Then a third child stepped out.

Heriah crossed her arms and glared down to them. “Three of you now. Are you all going to tell me to ‘shut up’? Do not be mistaken, I am not afraid of you.”

“Oh you will be,” said the first child. He was an older boy, perhaps two years older than the girl and another year older than the other boy. The trio took off in a skip around her encircling her equidistantly. All she heard was that echoing giggle but their mouths did not match the sound. They seemed to be singing something.

Despite her inability to hear their words, they seemed to hurt her still. Heriah felt almost to the point of tears and was surprised to realize she was beginning to take a knee. Tears welled in her eyes and she let the first whimper escape her mouth. They seemed to be shouting the words they sung but only the eternal giggling grew louder. “Why are you doing this?” But they continued to circle her and sing their song. “Who are you?” she called out knowing fully well no answer would come. “Stop this.”

She was kneeling, and crouching, holding her arms around herself trying to protect herself from the children’s hurtful song. She flailed out with her hand in a desperate attempt to hit one of them but met only nothing. Something felt out of place and she looked out to see she possessed a child’s arm. She was no longer kneeling but standing. Three children sang and danced around a child-like Heriah. All she could do was ball her eyes out and call out for help.