In a far, distant world, three moons hung in the sky, each milking the planet with its pale, beautiful light. A cold wind swept across the vast, desolate field, carrying the rolling hiss of hay and the occasional howl of unknown creatures lurking beyond sight.
In the middle of the field sat a jolly man. His fingers lazily danced over the radio, letting soft love songs spill into the night as he watched over his precious plants.
Click.
The radio went silent.
He waved his hand in annoyance, assuming the battery had finally died.
"Jame…"
A beautiful, feminine whisper brushed against his ear.
The sweetness of the voice dragged memories from the grave—his late wife, her laughter, the way she used to say his name. A thin line of sweat trickled down his neck.
"Jame…"
The voice invited him.
Jame stood up slowly, eyes fixed straight ahead, and began walking toward the distant village.
"Jame…"
This time, the voice was melodic, tinged with sorrow—enough to melt the hearts of men and beasts alike.
Jame stopped.
He turned.
Before him floated a woman draped in a dark red veil. Her body hovered unnaturally above the ground as she stretched her neck toward him.
Without thinking, Jame mirrored her movement.
Then the emotion vanished.
His eyes widened.
Twisted ankles hung at impossible angles. The veil concealed not a face, but an absence—where features should have been, there was nothing. A low, constant howl seeped from her form, vibrating through the air itself.
Morning came.
A crowd gathered beneath a tree at the edge of the field, staring silently at the hanging man.
There was no skin left on his body.