PROLOGUE
Lightning flashed and thunder rumbled in the sky. A stray
dog crossed the street leading to Hampshire Driveway. That was the only life
form that could be seen roaming the streets at such a time. A car sped along
the highway. The lights of the Hanger’s Pub continued blinking as if hoping
against hope that someone would dare defy this natural occurrence and trod into
the pub. The rain was heavy. Every living creature in the town was working hard
to keep warm and dry. Well … almost every one. A cloaked figure walked along
the Grower Avenue at the residence sector of Western Mill. He approached a house
clearly marked 52F at the front door.
Inside, a family of five was seated in silence in the living
room. They, obviously, were not expecting any guests that night. Everyone in
the room was silent and the atmosphere was full of tension. Two babies lay in a
cradle sleeping fitfully and unaware of the worry in their parents’ eyes.
Oliver Wild looked at the fire in the fireplace, but his thoughts were miles
away. Mrs. Wild was knitting a sweater. She eventually gave up the attempt
because her hands were trembling wildly and she couldn’t stop shaking. She
sighed. Saying that the shaking was all from cold would be lying.
Outside, the masked figure rang the doorbell. Both of the
parents were too engrossed in their thoughts to respond. The six year old girl
rose from her couch and went to open the door. That was when both parents came
to their senses.
“Rose, come back here,” said Mrs. Wild but Rose had already
opened the door. The cloaked figure was staring deep into Rose’s eyes and she
seemed trapped in his stare, for she looked at him without tearing her eyes
away.
“Oliver,” Mrs. Wild called. Mr. Wild turned to look at the
front door. He saw the figure. He felt an adrenaline rush attack him and his
heartbeat accelerated.
“Take the kids upstairs, Kate,” said Mr. Wild after staring
silently at the figure. He too did not tear his eyes away from the figure, but
for a very different reason. Mrs. Wild cradled the two babies in her hands and
walked to the staircase. She glanced back at Mr. Wild then headed upstairs.
The Masked figure looked up at Mr. Wild. Rose’s body was
enclosed by a bright white light then she vanished.
“Hello, Oliver,” the masked figure said as it approached Mr.
Wild. It had a deep, hoarse voice whose owner’s gender it was difficult to
determine. “It’s nice to see you.”
