In a moonlit clearing by a weeping willow, the air grew heavy with foreboding as the chilling wails of La Llorona echoed through the night. Her tattered white gown clung to her spectral form, soaked and stained by the waters she had wandered for centuries. With hollow, mournful eyes, she finished her lament over a still and lifeless figure, then slowly turned, her gaze locking onto an unsuspecting passerby, who stood frozen in fear beneath the ghostly tree