But that wasn't to be the case. I married a man, who wasn't good to me and didn't take care of me. I lost two of the three babies, the last died before his first year. He was abusive and sick. My life became hell. So, one night, when I was home alone, I recieved a visitor. She was pale, but her eyes danced with the most beautiful green light. She said she needed a place to stay, somewhere safe to sleep. i told her she was welcome. I was desparte for company. We stayed up most of the night talking. She sayed her name was Olivia. She said she'd help me. She could make all my dreams of freedom come true. The only requirement was that I prove to her that I was good enough. I had to kill my husband.

That's exactly what I did. The next night, when he returned home, I poisened his dinner. He gagged, choked and gasped for air. I watched in a terrified glee as he struggeled to his feet. I then grabbed the pan off the stove and bashed him over the head until he lay bleeding on the floor. It was a wonderful sight. I then sat, shivering, covered in brains and blood, waiting for Olivia. She didn't come, not right away. I was taken to jail, I was sure to be put to death. I thought some horrible trick had been played upon me. But, she came. She appeared with three others. They took me out of the jailhouse and to the church graveyard. Olivia then gave me her darkest gift.