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by Lisa Kwan *** The crying. Non-stop crying. Where is she? Brendwyn realizes she’s in an empty room. It isn’t any room she is familiar with though; there are no walls, no windows, just nothing. But she hears the crying. Her heart is pounding, and cold sweat forms on her forehead, in her palms. Suddenly, she sees her. She’s there, in a corner of the room, if there were a corner. A small bundle, completely wrapped in swaddling cloth, dark, unmoving. The crying. Brendwyn moves forward, slides to her knees beside her, absolutely terrified to pick her up. She leans in, but hesitates. She wonders why. Guilt creeps in. The crying. She lifts her up, and the crying intensifies. What’s wrong? She hastily unwraps the cloth from her covered face. She pulls the last of the folds of cloth free to reveal her baby...with her eyes gouged out. She screams as she drops the bundle, and watches in paralyzed horror as long slimy dark tentacles snake out where the baby’s