Islay peeked at her flashlight and saw the even number on the light. Okay, cutting off the light she wandered, slowly, into the corn field. Standing stock still like a scarecrow as she made her way to the taller part of the cornfield. She was ready to capture any unlucky soul that made their way into her little trap...lair, whatever it was.

Sure, she didn’t want to make the sounds but the young brunette stood there. Okay, baby noises. She needed to lure these poor wanderers into her trap. Opening her mouth she let out what sounded like a startled little cry. She needed to make it sound like a real little sad crying helpless infant.