Vivian couldn't breath. It didn't matter how things began, she could be on a beach, wondering town, it didn't matter really. Whatever the location, Vivian would be feeling at peace, even happy. This time, it was a memory, a young girl standing on a green hill in the summer twillight. At the bottom, two figures try to keep up with her, but the child was faster. She would stop a few feet and yell down at them to keep up, taunting them to catch her. The father would catch her first, gathering the child in his arms, swinging her around. Her laughter would turn hysterical as she tried to catch a breath in between laughs. The mother watched, camera in hand waiting for the perfect moment to snap a picture. The little girl would escape and run, then she would stumble into the snow. Wait....no, not snow....the little girl looks around in puzzlement, but as the cold grew around her, the puzzlement became panic. She would try to run, but the shadow creeps up on her, Two shadows with long ink fingers lock around her small neck. . She gasp for breath, but the life was leaving her. Then she hears the screaming, then fire, The snow gathers at her ankles as the fingers cut and dig into her throat. she was dying, just as they had. Then, always then, a voice is heard, a mother's desperate shriek. The last thing the dying child hears. [i] VIVIAN!!!! [/i]

Gasping, Vivian springs up from the couch. Both hands go to her throat to fight away the attacker, but the hands disappeared with her nightmare. With a long sigh, Vivian wiped the sweat from her forehead. It was already dark outside, something that appears quickly during these winter months. The only light comes from the TV left on. Whatever rerun of The Simpsons Vivian fell asleep was now replaced with the evening news.A photo of Mary Smith was smiling back at Vivian. Underneath the photo, "Missing" flashes in bright red letters along with the description of the child. Vivian could make out the news anchor's politely sadden voice plea for anyone to contact the police with any information on poor Mary. Then, the expression returns to a cheerful default face, "Up next, easy do it yourself tips to spice up your home for the hoilda..." Vivian shuts off the tv and stands. She needed to get ready for work. 

The roads were their usual isolated self this evening. It was a odd thing in a small town, by eight most folks retreated to their homes. Vivian could never understand it, she had the night shift for a reason. The night brought enticement, this electric sensation that made Vivian itching for activity. In their hunting glory, Vivian and Ron would venture into the forest and come back with a buck caught in the mist of his midnight snack. Just because Vivian claimed the nightlife didn't mean the town around her did the same. Most nights, Vivian and her coworkers are patrolling or just shooting the shit until dawn. There was the occasional call, but it usually was scaring away a mountain lion that stumbled in a poor women's yard and stalked her pomeranian. 

"Hey Banister, hows that weather?" Vivian glances at her partner in the passenger seat, "Fucking beautiful Sanson, a real winter wonderland." Officer Sanson waves away the sarcastic comment, "Oh come on, you get all quiet on me and I don't know what to talk about. You don't seem like the politics type, and your taste in music sucks, so I"ll go with weather. He says with a playful grin. "Come on man, two months riding together and barely a squeak. At least put on some music, I'll stomach your elderly shit." Vivian flips him the finger but cracks a smile. 

The radio crackles to life, Pulling Vivian from her thoughts "Attention officers, car needed at 223 Greenmill lane.." Vivian lifts the receiver "Officer Banister responding, what is the situation." More static as the the male on the other end replies, "Call made, claim a amber is located in the farmhouse, made threats on her life. Proceed with caution."Vivian's hand grips tighten against the wheel until her knuckles turn white. A amber was code for missing child, Mary. Her sirens comes to life, a wail that pieces the silent winter night. 

Its only take a few minutes to turn onto the old Brady property. Sanson has gone quiet, the adrenaline builds in both of them as the car comes to a stop. There is only silence that greets them, but the air is tense. There is a moment when Vivian believes she smells blood, but the wind breezes around the officers and there is nothing. They don't need to knock, the house was abandoned after all. As the approach the house, Vivian stops. Her attention is pulled toward the barn house. She nods toward it, but Sanson looks doubtful. She doesn't wait for him, but walks quickly toward the barn. She feels him beside her as she cracks open the side door. They keep their guns pointed outward, with large flashlights searching the dark. The smell of of damp hay and mold is in the air. But there is something else, Vivian already knows what is waiting for them before the beam falls on it. Nine years old, blonde hair, 4 feet, 8inches, green eyes that stare off into nothing, wearing blue jeans, a Micky Mouse shirt and a pink hoodie now stained in blood, there was so much blood.

Sanson is already calling for backup and emergency service on the radio, but Vivian hears a noise in the dark. She spins just in time to see a suspect try to creep out. She has already located where she would need to shoot him. What kneecap she would shatter if this son of a bitch tried to move. 
"FREEZE!" She screams with a voice like iron.