[Katya]

Are you, are you
Coming to the tree?
They strung up a man,
They say who murdered three.
Strange things did happen here,
No stranger would it be
If we met at midnight
In the hanging tree.

Are you, are you
Coming to the tree?
Where a dead man called out
For his love to flee.
Strange things did happen here,
No stranger would it be
If we met at midnight
In the hanging tree.

Are you, are you
Coming to the tree?
Where I told you to run
So we'd both be free.
Strange things did happen here
No stranger would it be
If we met at midnight
In the hanging tree.

Are you, are you
Coming to the tree?
Wear a necklace of hope
Side by side with me.
Strange things did happen here,
No stranger would it be
If we met at midnight
In the hanging tree.

Are you, are you
Coming to the tree?
Where I told you to run
So we'd both be free?
Strange things did happen here,
No stranger would it be
If we met at midnight
In the hanging tree.

Are you, are you
Coming to the tree?
Where they strung up a man,
They say who murdered three.
Strange things did happen here
No stranger would it be
If we met at midnight
In the hanging tree.

--James Newton Howard

She woke in the darkness.

There were sounds of water around her, but not the familiar ones that she knew. Something was different. 

Lighting a candle with trembling fingers, she saw only that she was alone. 

So alone, little one. 

She looked down at her delicate palms, lifting them close to her eyes. They were shining, slippery, slick. Blood. 

Her own? Someone else's? 

Her palms were still recovering, it was true; the edges of a dagger having bitten deeply into them not so long ago. A pain worth the sting, but slow to heal. 

But they'd stopped bleeding long ago. 

So alone. Who will come for you?

The isolation was intense. She could see nothing beyond the shuddering sphere of light thrown out by the candle. She yearned for someone she could not see. Oceans between. Could only faintly hear. The longing. It hurt, like an ache deep within herself that couldn't be assuaged by thought alone. 

Are you, are you,
Coming to the tree?
Wear a necklace of hope
Side by side with me.

The blood dripped languidly from her fingers, and onto the wooden floor below. 

.....out of my hands, now. 

The hurt was palpable, everywhere and nowhere. Above her, below her, around her, within her. 

It hurt, and at the time... it was brilliant. Shining. Delicious. Inviting. 

Intoxicating. 

Strange things did happen here, 
No stranger would it be
If we met at midnight, 
In the hanging tree.