Logan Ziegler had a hard life. His mother died when he was a little child, and his father got ill, so they went to live with his uncle; the count Philippe Ziegler, who lived in a little hill over the valley of Sarine. There Logan grew up. When he was twelve years old his father deceased and when became an adult he went to make his life in the United Kingdom, where was born. There lived for six years until the day in which he received a letter from Fribourg, were lived his uncle. He had died, and his castle was the heritage for his beloved nephew. After thinking a lot about it he decided going there with his family; the country was a nice place to suit his seed, and the castle a good home. Coming to the city the rumors about the count’s decease became very gloomy, but the only thing in which the villagers were in agreement was that the dark count died hiding a horrifying secret… The castle was huge and stonily cold. The horrendous happenings started two weeks after the count’s funeral. Late in the night Logan woke up suddenly by a loud cry from nowhere, he thought that he dreamt it, but not utterly convinced. Sometimes when he was alone in his room he heard some hits like a rat moving between the walls, but could not be something like a rat, never. As the third week, since they came, died the noise in the night became higher and disordered, some things held through the walls fell, this had not an unnatural explication, these are rats, could be thousands of giant rats. It was known that the old uncle hid something in any place of the castle. Must be rats! – Logan tried to convince himself – One day he called the plague’s exterminators and agreed to go inside the attic with them. Logan thought that the rats must come from there up. Everything dark, the bulbs of the lanterns shined and dissolved its light among the shadows. A dingy atmosphere floated over the air, and the pest almost left breathless at this penniless threesome. Suddenly a violent noise cut the air and the men stayed paralyzed by the fear. Then another violent hit in the wall, from the shadows that the lamps could not show. And another hit, and another, everyone more brutal than the previous, then a loud bark like the cry of an animal and these men took a step behind, but left just two of them. The bulbs blinked, giving little moments of uncertainty, making stronger the fear and the pest that these men could not breathe anymore. So, a rare sound was heard, like meat fresh wet, the lanterns pointed to the side of the sound and the last thing that Logan remembers is a little anthropomorphic being eating the lost man.

Recently I have remembered more times and realistic that mourning night. That was not for me a happening to stay proud, but I still trying to convince myself that it was the solution. When I was 23 years old I knew at George, with who I established a deep friendship. We knew everything about our lives. We formed a little business which, with the pass of the time and its positive growth was becoming every time more gloomy; we started to harm people to win… One night everything became really vicious; I killed a man, of a bigger business that had committed some prejudices to us, as spouses. George never looked perturbed about this act but we promised never talking about that night. So, you can think that I am breaking that promise but the circumstances deserve it. With the pass of the days George started to look more nervous than his normal, sometimes he did not go to work, so our business fell unto break. We could not keep it up anymore. But it never brought any problem, we made a fortune, so we could live or die with no care about money. Who could imagine why did he do it? The thing is that George at six months since the event previously touched on, gave the alert to the police and I was imprisoned for a few weeks under the suspect of the murder of the man that I killed. But I was early fled because they never found any clue that could blame me with right strength. So, the new suspect became my beloved friend George, but I never should let that somebody put any dirty hand over him to make his feel what I felt… Nobody but me… Everything calculated and measured, had to look like a suicide. Sometimes it comes to my head and I answer with repulsive senses. It is hard to me thinking that I was able to do it, above all now when I can see the eyes of my wife and my daughter and feel myself held up upon the upper heavens. His house became a disaster. Everything flew out, pills thrown through the floor, and when I was hanging him through his neck he took a little look to me and said: “I will avenge…” I did not understand his last words, never, until today. As I have told; I have had ominous dreams in whose I see that night in which I put my friend into eternal sleep, and his eyes when looks at me and speaks seem so real. So the death opened the door and came in without any shred of respectful in awe. I neither saw anything, nor heard, but I felt how the cold frozen my bones and sentenced my soul to the prompt revenge. But the wind traversed the room, leaving behind of its way my trembling body and when I turned back my wife and my daughter lied on the floor, death, silent, cold… I did not understand the last words of my beloved friend, never, until today…

She held his hand and started to walk. They walked for hours and then came to their destiny, he thought. He stopped and saw, doing the same that she was doing, how six children jumped into the river. The image was terrible. Everything happened in a little village near where the sun rises. There lived Haruto, step over the accurate piece of world when it needed him; But nobody heard him. He had a “power”, as somebody called it, whit which he dreamt the massive deaths time before they happen. Among the villagers he was a freak but now it is time to save the metropolis of the country. One night, neither sleeping nor awoken, he saw an entity; she held his hand and started to walk, they walked for hours and then came to their destiny, he thought. He stopped and saw, doing the same that she was doing, how six children jumped into the river. Seeking for an answer he found that ominous river and alerted to the police about the events that he foresaw, that he was sure were coming soon. But was taken as a mad; imprisoned for a weekend and then unleashed. Eight days after six children jumped into the river. Never saw the light again. The police caught him as principal suspect of the death of these children but the investigations showed that they were before a “suicidal covenant”, and the mastermind was not, neither thinkable, this poor rural. Fourteen nights passed without any problem for this freak man but in the fifteenth two entities appeared before him, middle slept, middle awoken, this entity spoke in a tongue that he could not solve, but the second ghost spoke in a language that he thought understanding. They were preparing a massive suicide, inside their cars they were going to elate themselves. He stands up in the middle of a dark forest and started to run, seeking for somebody who can help him, but could not cry any word. Then he woke up, almost killed by the fear. What can I do? He asked himself. Everybody will think that I am insane. He exiled himself to the top of a hill, and carried with him his horrendous prognoses far away from the mundane world. The moons came and went, and took hundreds of lives, and the only one who could stop this was dying in the top of a lost hill. There laid the prophet, he who was called “mad” but that now everyone remembers him and seeks for him, for salvation and help, but he did not answer at this call. With the pass of the nights the visions became more horrific, the entities of this dream took the form of children and spoke directly to this man, some of them narrated the most diabolical tales of their, as they said, “staying” in the purgatory. His mind could not resist any more, he did not know if these entities wanted to be saved or wanted to be a burden. He did not know how many hours a day he lived and how many he dreamt, and if it all was totally sane. His cries never were heard, the distance that he took from the humanity was enough for nobody can feel his pain. One night he decided to know more about the death of what was not vicious, transgressing some laws that he had put for himself, for not falling into insanity… Or something beyond. So, that night started his travel, held by the hand of that entity through wicked passages, without any way of turning back.

Walking in the night through these streets I will not believe that what I feel is real. I will not look forward neither if the scandal behind me becomes higher. I walk faster, trying to avoid the stories that they tell me, tacking and zigzagging, waiting that they, it, that or what it really is loses my trace… But I don’t get it. The night becomes darker. The moon never shined my way tonight; just a few stars of rare but beautiful colors do it. I hope that the sun rises soon and takes away these souls from me, at least for one another day… But it looks like this time it will not happen… I fall into an enchantment. They possess my soul. They show me things that I never thought that could exist. I scream higher than they and then… Then I just wake up!