The sun was beginning to go down, and soon Marry's father called her in for dinner. After quickly, but politely, eating her meal, she gave a hurried goodnight and rushed up to her room. The room was all whites grays and blacks, with a few flecks of color here and there. It was sparsely furnished, save for the many dolls lined up on a shelf on the wall. The young, dark-haired girl rushed over to her bed and knelt upon it. Pulling back her curtains and gazing out the window.<br/><br/>"Isn't it beautiful?" She breathed. The shadows from the moonlight dotted the cemetery like oxymoronic fireflies. Every once in a while the clouds would roll over the moon, leaving the most beautiful shades of darkness over the endless expanse of decay. The only light present came from the windows of the Hotel Withers just a little bit away.<br/><br/>"Let's go again tonight!" Marry suggested to the air, in a hushed, but excited voice. "If we kill another couple, we're sure to get a ghost this time! Couples almost always have regrets when they're separated.<br/><br/><span style="font-style: italic">I... I just really don't like killing,</span>said a small voice from nowhere.<br/><br/>"But Evangeline," Said Marry, "We're friends. And a friend's job is to make their friends happy. I play with you all day every day, and I even gave you a home. All I ask in exchange is that you help me make more friends. Come on Evangeline," the girl said, gazing out the window, "death is a beautiful thing. Almost as beautiful as you are."<br/><br/><span style="font-style: italic">I don't want compliments,</span>said the voice in her head.<span style="font-style: italic">I want to stop.</span><br/><br/>"I'm sorry Evangeline," said Marry. "But that won't happen any time soon." There was another sad and distant sigh inside of Marry's head. Marry took a moment to smile and shake her head, then, in her stockinged feet, promptly jumped out her first floor window and ran off in the direction of the looming mass of a building, known as Hotel Withers.