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A figure held his daughter in the rocker. In the dim light he couldn__ make out the features, but the sight of anyone he didn__ know sitting in Wendy__ rocker with their daughter was enough to scare the shit out of him. Judging by the shuddering movements of his daughter__ body it had frightened her too, had caused her to mewl. He wanted to charge forward and reclaim his daughter, but he didn__ know what would happen if he acted so quickly. What would he do if it hurt her? What would he do if it killed her? __hat-what do you want? I__l do anything just don__ take my daughter. She___all I have left.__he figure stopped rocking and slowly eased its way to its feet. There__ not much light in the room but as it moved closer to the bed and it settled the baby in her crib, he saw just enough of her face in the moonlight.__endy?_ His voice is as full of horror as it is with awe. He can__ help but be horrified at the sight of her now, the way that death has changed her, making her a terrible figure indeed. Her eyes are strange; some depth, some dark and terrible nothing has swallowed up all of her light, and in this first moment he swears he can feel the awful cold of that operating room coming off of her flesh. She is so small and so hard to look at, as if his mind can__ quite focus on her form. Through the bars of the crib he can see her anger and hear the terrible, alien sound of her hiss. __hat do you want?__he doesn__ answer him, staring cold and blank through those stark white bars, and then she was scrambling toward him across the floor, making him press flat against the wall to get away from her skittering shape.