It began in a cage. Not a fine little box where you would expect to find a bird. No, this was a crudely constructed crate of bones and sinew. The little girl in a pink raincoat could not remember how she ended up in this cage, much less this world. From her trapped view in her prison, she saw tables and chairs the height of three story buildings.

She had to escape. The pink raincoat girl gnawed the bone bars until she felt her teeth would fall out. Her efforts were rewarded when the bars finally gave out.

She could not have known it, but nothing was natural in this world. She was only as tall as a fork.

On either side of her, there were walls of stacks of boxes. Her only path was forward. The air was heavy, causing every one of her breaths to feel heavy. Occasionally, a rat or cricket would cross her path, but they paid her no heed. They had greater evils to fear.

In this world, known as Nowhere, the only inhabitants are young children, such as the tiny girl in the pink raincoat, and Visitors. The Visitors came to this world long ago, hunting every child until none remain. Mysteriously, the time of their appearance has been forgotten, as have their reasons for this hunt.

The little pink raincoat girl crept toward a soft, cold light. It was pure white, like a moonbeam. Upon finally reaching it, she discovered it was the gap between a door and the floor. Her only option was to slide under and discover what waited for her on the other side. A tall Visitor stood in a living room with its black eyes fastened on a clock on the wall. Its body was disproportionate, as its legs made up almost its entire height. It had long, wavy arms that hung limply at its sides. It wore a tattered jacket and ripped stockings. Since it wore no shoes, its feet were nakedly displayed.

Without making the slightest noise, the girl tiptoed past the black mass under a shelf, likely used for storing oversized spices. The Visitor, pleased with the clock, walked out of the kitchen and unceremoniously dropped its form onto a leather couch. Afraid for her life, the little girl proceeded through the kitchen, past a pile of questionable meat lazily left on the stone floor, and into the living room. She briefly rested under the same couch where the Visitor sat a few feet above her pink hood. After gathering her courage, she maintained her trek until she found a dead end.

There were tall jars filled with pickled fingers, toes, tongues, and eyes of victims of the Visitor. Through the glass, she saw a mouse hole which meant safety. The Visitor still reclined on the couch. She weaved through the first few jars with ease. One of the jars had leaked fluid on the floor, creating a slippery surface for the girl to walk across. At first, this did not pose any trouble for the child. After taking a bad step, the unthinkable happened: she tripped. Every glass jar around her fell and shattered.

The Visitor's eyes immediately saw the intruder.