Young Mary Pennynickle wandered aimlessly in the woods of her New England home. She saw three fluffy bunnies sitting on the ground a few feet from her. They almost seemed to smile.
Mary Pennynickle walked towards them, her hand outstretched to pet them. She came closer, yet they did not move. Their eyes twinkled in what ever light came down between the leaves. She pet the fluffiest one. He bit her hand, and then licked the blood that came trickling out. Another rabbit bit her harder. Blood poured out of her arm. A small pool gathered at her feet. She took flight from the horrid creatures.
As she called for her father in fear, she turned to look if the bunnies were in pursuit. They had gathered around the small pool of blood, lapping up the red liquid.
She felt dizzy and fell to the ground. Her father found her and returned her home. She slept for days, crying out in the night. She awoke, feeling strange and out of sorts.
Her life would never be the same.
Neither would the victims.
