Lying in the middle of a field of thistles was a young girl with raven-black eyes and hair. Dark clouds boiled in sheets overhead, the occasional lightning bold streaking across the writhing sky. Thunder crashed and the earth screamed, but the girl still lay there.
It began to rain. First there were only a few drops. Then there were a few more. In moments, the heavens opened and unleashed their fury upon the world. Minutes passed, hours passed, days went by and the girl stayed, motionless and unspoken, while the rain continued to pour.
Then, suddenly, it stopped. A cold sun weakly cast a gray light onto the land. Black crows gathered as solemn watchers, surveying the terrain beneath their wings. More hours passed, and still the world stayed forevermore the same. The birds gazed as the girl lingered, ever silent and ageless.
It grew dark. Blackness crept over the earth. Then it was dawn, and a red sun rose, streaks of orange and pink striping the blood red sky.
It was then that the girl moved for the first time. She stood slowly, her dark eyes on the spectacle before her. The first rays of the sun reflected off the bottomless chasms that were her black eyes.
Lifting her arms to the sky, she turned her face upwards towards the first light and screamed. It was an unearthly sound, demonic and angelic all at once. The barren wasteland soaked in the sound, thriving off of its echo.
The crows, startled, leaped into flight, filling the air with the rustle of black wings. They blotted out the feeble sun, swarming and swirling in a churning column around the girl. Their course calls combined with the scream to form a terrifying sound no mortal had ever dared to imagine before.
Inside the column, the girl stood with her arms and face uplifted, her deep eyes closed. She screamed again, once, twice, and was gone.