Prologue

She was bound in satin and lace, her painted smile upon porcelain face. She danced upon her golden stage, her shining spotlight, her glorified cage. And her youth and soul were gone and dead, her heart turned cold, her heart turned lead. Her mind unraveled and torn apart, her pale hands holding a mangled heart. Blades and screaming and laughter and pain, and they never saw the dancer again.