A small girl, no more than a child, picked her way down a street half destroyed. The city was empty, barren, an impossible silence hung over the place. The sky above was sanguine crimson and dominated by an enormous black moon hanging in the air. It seemed to bleed shadows into the atmosphere, they fell from its celestial form and coalesced into figures. Winged women who came to life and took flight toward the desolate streets and buildings below. The little girl smiled up at the moon, safe as long as she could see it, and she hummed a tuneless song to herself as she skipped over a body in the street.
Wait for me.
She thought up at the moon, and she knew he could hear. It was not time for them to meet, not yet, she closed her eyes and squeezed them, summoning the old images she'd seen since birth. They were still there, so she was still on the correct path. She scrambled up a pile of rock that may have once been a part of the bombed out building beside her. She scanned the area, looking for survivors, she felt one.
Two streets over, pain like a yellow haze in the air, and white hot fear. She smiled.
Just a little longer.
She reassured her moon in the sky and she danced down the rubble to go find her prey.