You Take One Down

Once upon a time there was a girl. She was nothing special – that is, until she grew up. At age four little Feli was cute, but nothing more, normal and happy. Then her family moved. Her house was huge and forbidding with a tower room of bear walls. In the future, these walls would grow to haunt her. Feli would search for years trying to find something to cover them.

Four turned to seven and her ideas became violent. She dreamed of blood coating the stone surfaces. At nine Feli's life blood was spilt in that room, it spattered the walls. And there sitting on top of one single droplet of blood – was a pale piece of flesh. The day of her tenth birthday she got a new inspiration – one that stuck.

The term 'once upon a time' refers to a fictional story, a story that has giggling children, little butterflies, and singing. So I suppose then, that 'once upon a time' wouldn't be appropriate. Why? At twelve years old, Feli killed.

Ninety-nine bodies on the wall, ninety-nine bodies on the wall. You take one down, push it around – ninety-eight bodies on the wall.