Beyond the Looking Glass  
Prelude: The Beginning  
Excerpts from the journal of Professor G\_\_\_\_\_, found by officer Takanawa at the Matsuei Mansion on October 13, 2003:  
September 26, 2003

	After many hours of preparing, my colleagues and I are finally on the road to Nasue, a small rural village on the northern coast of Japan. It has been thirteen long years since I started by career in the area of paranormal research, but this is the first time my friends and I will be able to put our theories to practice. It is very exciting, even as our old rental car, packed to the brim with supplies and equipment, journeys through the rocky, forest paths towards the huge mansion that I can see now, just over the horizon. The town cannot truly be called a village anymore as it is just as advanced as Tokyo, though much smaller and more… intimate. Still, when we arrived in Nasue this morning, it felt like we had taken a step through time. But, I’m getting ahead of myself. Everyone in this field has reasons for being here, experiences as a child, superstitious parents, perhaps, but I know that I am taking this long journey from England to Japan because of my natural curiosity. 	I had always had a deep interest in monsters and specters as a child and I had never been a non-believer. I, like any self-respecting scientist, have a healthy attitude towards disbelief, but I also have an open mind, unlike my colleague Jacobs who is sitting in the front seat, a death grip on his precious lap top. We have been struggling for years to try to take a trip such as this. It seems that men such as us can only exist as professors, teaching children while our dreams and aspirations rot in the corner of our minds, but after many, many years of pleading, the university has allowed us to go, if only to laugh at us when we return, tails between our legs. There had been much argument where we should go, but in my mind at least, the Matsuei Mansion was the only fitting place for our expedition.   
	Some say that Japan is the most haunted place on earth, with its clinging to old traditions and ritual, the Shinto temples that line any rural path and the superstition that many of its people still practice. That is certainly true here in Nasue, as many people shy away from us and become tight lipped at the mere mention of where we are going. Some make old signs at us and one kind old lady even gave Harock a good luck charm. Such fear and superstition is not odd in the fields that we study, but it still makes me nervous. Stevens offered to look at the supposed ‘World’s Most Haunted Places’ list for our destination, but I suggested something a little bit more… mature. It is true, in this day and age the term ‘paranormal research’ is usually saved for TV shows where shaky cameras follow hosts as they run around old castles as they scream and claim that they are being chased by some unseen specter. People like us are a dying breed, but I refuse to debase myself to the title of ‘primetime entertainment’. The Matsuei Mansion will never make that list for a very simple reason. It has never been successfully labeled as ‘haunted’. There is no proof simply because people become ‘spirited away’ when they go to that place. They disappear, or show up dead. It seems like the typical ghost story; “In Japan there stands a mansion where many have died and it is assumed to be haunted. All who enter the house die or disappear,” only, that isn’t quite the truth. Some die, some disappear, but others simply go mad just by entering the place. Of course, there are still doubts, as there always are in legends such as these, though there is some oddness about the legend. People will disappear in the region, then reappear days later horribly mutilated. There are stories like this all around the world, but there is something about that place that scares all of us, even Jacobs, though he refuses to admit it. Paranormal research itself is not a lucrative field. In this, you are either mocked or ignored, but there is some fun in it. In all of my years of teaching, I had never left England, but here I was in Japan and I have to admit, it is a beautiful place.  
	The road leading to the huge mansion rocked the car and Jacobs swore as he was jostled. It was obvious that the dirt, forest road was rarely used anymore and the car struggled up it. Jacobs, Harock, Stevens, Oswald, and I have been working together for the past ten years. I, personally, study the energy force given off by paranormal events. It is an odd thing to believe, but paranormal energy, if examined and somehow harnessed, could be used as a replacement for electricity and fuel. It is a private theory of mine, but one that is hard to prove. Harock is more impressed by the psychological element that seems to follow these events. He thinks that there are some people who are more susceptible to paranormal events due to psychic frequencies. Stevens used to be a mechanic and is very interested in the paranormal influence on man made appliances and metal. Oswald studies the affects that supernatural events can have on the physical body while our skeptical friend Jacobs is more concerned with the science behind paranormal research. If one of us can find one thing, one… spark, I would consider this long trip worth while.   
	The house looms through the trees, sending a chill down my spine. If I squint, I can see a shadowy figure in one of the wood barred windows, but I am sure that it is just my over expecting imagination.

September 27, 2003

	We set up the equipment in various rooms of the mansions successfully. This place truly is massive, so we kept to only a few rooms to keep from being overwhelmed. It is a beautiful old house, but is so big and everything seems to echo in here. The first thing that we noticed when we entered the mansion through the huge doors was the amount of mirrors in this place. Considering the state at which the previous owners left this mansion, it is odd to note that none of these mirrors are covered. Something of interest to note is that many of the people we interviewed about this mansion called this place ‘The Mirror House’, and I can see why. There are many rituals and superstitions revolving around mirrors in this region. All over the world, mirrors hold a strong significance in the supernatural. Mirrors are said to be a reflection of the soul. If you looked into a mirror, you could see your inner self. Some believe that that is why it was considered bad luck to break a mirror. Mirrors cannot lie, they can only show the truth. So, if there is something missing from the mirror’s reflection, this is seen as a truly bad sign and the likewise is obviously true as well. Harock jokingly said that it was a very good thing that everything was as it should be when we passed a full length mirror on the entrance wall.   
	Even in the United States, people were overwhelmed by the power of mirrors. During a wake or funeral, all of the mirrors were covered because it was believed that the person’s soul would become trapped forever in the mirror. It was for this reason that we assumed the mirrors would be covered in this house since the last owner’s son died here before they left, but I suppose that one of the other visitors might have taken the cloths off. They say that if you cannot see your reflection than that means you have lost your soul.   
	All of our reflections are here as I sit here, watching the equipment. The tatami underneath me feels oddly comfortable considering that they are quite old and not as sturdy as they once were. Vines grow everywhere, looking like ancient, spiny snakes with small, bright red flowers, looking like spots of blood. However, something troubles me. Last night, I was awoken by the sweet chime of a bell. It sounded so beautiful, yet, oddly, so sad. I had turned on my side and my eyes met the mirror. Even though I was snug in my sleeping bag, my compatriots sleeping next to me in their, I felt a very strong chill going down my spine. In the mirror was a figure dressed in what looked like a pure white kimono, looking down on me as I slept, but when I blinked, the image was gone. Was it just a dream, my imagination, perhaps? I’m not sure, but the equipment did not read anything, so I will brush it off as nothing for now. Tomorrow we will go upstairs and check those rooms with our equipment. 

September 28, 2003

	There is one mirror legend that scares me to death in this place. Some consider mirrors to be a gateway to other worlds, hell, darkness; mirrors are a way for ghosts and demons to pass through. Yesterday, I would have laughed at that, but now… I’m not so sure. Harock told me that he saw something in one of the mirrors upstairs. He heard the sweet chime of a bell and a glimpse of a reddish kimono. Was that the same thing I saw? Why did he see red when I saw white? I would have not given it much credence if not for the equipment in that room. At the time that Harock saw the apparition, the temperature in the room dropped twenty degrees and the energy reading spiked, as though the room was red hot with electricity. There is no electricity in this place. Jacobs scoffed at all of this, predictably, but I can’t get the sound of that bell out of my mind. It scorched into me like a brand. Tonight I put my jacket over the mirror, but it didn’t make me feel any safer.   
September 29, 2003  
	Ghosts… it is the apparition of someone who has died… they look the same as them and are connected to the places where they lived and died, sometimes living in the things that they had loved or died in. However, there is also a belief that ghosts are demons. Demons… a few days ago, I would have said that such things were impossible, but after tonight, I’m not so sure anymore. I had believed that paranormal events could create energy. If that is true, then it has become true that that energy can do anything. Some say that a ghost is just a replay of that person’s death, so what is this one telling me?  
	I’m getting ahead of myself again. Tonight we continued to explore the mansion. So far, we have been very pleased with the results of our findings. Certain rooms give off strong energy readings. Jacobs believes that there might be power lines somewhere in the house, but that seems unlikely to me. I slept well the night before and thought that perhaps Harock and I had had a shared delusion. However, tonight Stevens and I went to check out the Hanging Hallway. There are no mirrors there, which is strange considering the rest house has them. I heard the chime of the bell, but when Stevens asked me about it, I realized that it was not my imagination. There was a flash of white behind us when we walked down the achingly long hallway. It was Stevens that spun around, but it had disappeared. We heard a high pitched sound immediately after that. To me, it sounded like a child screaming, but Stevens wasn’t so convinced. He became very excited after that, saying that he believed the ‘ghost’ had indeed found a way to communicate through some electrical currents. I do not believe that this is the case.   
	I was walking back to the room we have claimed as our own when I heard the floorboards creak behind me. I do not know what to think of these things anymore, it makes me feel like I am going mad, but still I turned around. There was nothing there, but I could have sworn that I felt soft hair brush my shoulder as I turned. Oswald and Jacobs think that we are being childish, but Jacobs looks very unsettled. I will have to look out for him.

September 30, 2003

	I am sure that there is something following me around this place. It chases me from mirror to mirror; the flash of white, the chime of a bell… is it really a ghost? Why is it haunting us? Whose ghost is it? And why is it now that our equipment is spiking so severely? Harock wants to leave, he is scared, but Jacobs calls him a moron, that we are doing too well to leave. As scared as I am of the haunting figure, I have to agree. In the days I have been here, I have gathered more data than in my entire lifetime! To think, this place is really haunted! I have uncovered the mirror. I hope that this spirit will learn to trust me and show his or her face. The air is cold now and we have gathered our clothes to create warmth. Jacobs is attached to his computer again. I hear a voice in the back of my head, begging for relief of the darkness. Jacobs still does not believe that there is a ghost here, but he refuses to leave and he has become excited, almost frantic. I wonder how one lures out a ghost? I wonder if I want to… 

October 2, 2003

	A lot has happened in the last couple of days. Our equipment is going haywire and we are now seeing that figure in almost ever mirror. Can they not leave the mirror? Are they trapped there? Harock is terrified of the spirit, but it hasn’t done anything more than watch us. It seems friendly enough, simply following us around like a lost puppy dog. I can’t help but think of it as ‘our’ ghost, if that is what it is and I am still not convinced. It could be a psychic echo, like Harock thinks. Jacobs still believes that it is all in our minds, but he didn’t sleep last night and I can tell he is even more afraid than Oswald or Harock. Oswald doesn’t sleep so well anymore and he has developed a cough, probably because of the dry air up here. I offered to go back into the village to get him some medicine, but Jacobs said that would destroy the experiment. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say he’s just as obsessed with our mirror visitor as Harock and Stevens are. Right now I am pouring over the notes we originally took on the mansion. When we had first arrived, we had thought that we might witness something, a small spark, but now, our expectations have been met and surpassed. I can’t help but think of the people that have died in this place, though. I do not think the mirror ghost killed them, it seems unlikely since we are still alive, unless it is just playing with us, like a cat with a mouse, before we are devoured, but there is something about that sad chiming of the bell that makes me not want to believe that. That bell makes me feel so lost, I want to help the mirror ghost, but I can’t until I find out who it is and what it wants.   
	The Matsuei Mansion certainly has a rich history. It was built sometime in the fourteen hundreds as a place of Shinto worship, back then it had no name and, according to several folklorist journals, it was a crime to speak of it in the village. I am not sure specifically why, but it appears that some Priests were keeping the villagers away and called it a ‘sacred place’ at the same time their actions showed some fear. In 1432, there was a terrible occurrence, a sketchy witness report claims that there was some sort of explosion in the village which caused the deaths of everyone who lived there and that explosion had originated from this mansion. That seems unlikely, however, since the place remained intact. Yet, even the people in this place died. There is no doubt of that since there are more detailed reports about the state of the bodies and how they were literally ripped to shreds. Until 1575, the temple remained untouched, legends of a curse keeping everyone away. In 1575, the Matsuei family laid claim to the temple and turned it into a home. The family was massive, their origins reaching from England to Russia to Japan. People in the village whispered about them, calling them mixed blood, but they were also afraid of the power that the Matsuei held. The head of the family was a man named Hirotaka, a very rich, powerful man, who, in his later years, became quite insane from dementia, though the people in the village seem to think it was the house and not a mental illness. No one knows why, but Hirotaka fell to the same fate as the priests and holed up in the mansion, never coming to the village, his family sending servants for their supplies. There are rumors that he continued the work of the Shinto priests after finding something in the house. Up until 1897, the Matsuei lived in the house, generation after generation, isolated in that place, until the head of the house, a third Japanese, third American, third German man, lost his son for some reason and he and the rest of the family left for Germany. Even when the Matsuei had occupied the mansion, there had been many deaths there. The peculiar thing is the number of deaths, 67 people in eleven years and the last to die in that year was always a member of the Matsuei family. Ritual sacrifice comes to mind in this case. Just to calculate is a terrifying thing: from 1575 to 1897, that is a 322 year span, over two thousand people had died in that place or disappeared after visiting there. The sick thing is that the 67th person was always a child. Such a thing… I cannot even begin to comprehend it. To think that the thing stalking us could be one of those children makes me want to weep. Since the Matsuei have left, there have been over three hundred deaths and disappearances.   
	As I have said before, this mansion is massive and it is unclear which rooms existed in the temple and which were built later when this place was converted into a home. There are many rooms since the entire Matsuei line lived here together. Many of these rooms seem to have a certain purpose, though what that could be, I am not prepared to speculate, and several of these rooms aren’t even on the house plans! Through gossip alone, there is talk that there is a secret room underneath this place that had been built by the Shinto priests. However, this is not on the plans, but that means nothing to me. The long hallway of ropes is not on those plans, either. It is a huge stretch of hallway, spanning two miles and seems to go on forever when you are walking it. From the rafters, hundreds of ropes are hung. There lays some truth behind our theory of ritual sacrifice in this place and there are both legends and journals from folklorists saying that sacrifices of the old Shinto order would hang the sacrifices from those ropes for ten days.   
	There is an old well in the courtyard. The courtyard itself is quite beautiful with wild cherry trees and more of those strange vines with red flowers. The well is indeed an old, stone thing and has long since dried up. Legend says that the sacrifices were buried in a secret passageway that connects to the bottom of that well and their graves were marked by hundreds of pinwheels that turned even in the stillness. It was probably ritual for the priests to empty the water when they buried their sacrifices, but if such a place exists, we do not wish to search for it, since the trip down the well is a long one, especially in the darkness and it looks treacherous. The scratches along the inner walls of the well are a testament to that. It looks like some poor soul fell down there at one point.   
	On the first floor of the mansion is a huge room with tatami mats that have dark stains on them. When we found this room, Harock believed, and still does, that there was a massacre in there and the stains are old blood. I am not so sure, but the idea frightens me. When we explored the second floor bedrooms, I found a peculiar thing in one of them. There are several stone locks to secret rooms and some we have managed to solve. One of these ‘passageways’ led to a third floor and a room above the bedroom. It was a cell, hard wood creating a prison with only small gaps to see out of and no windows. Jacobs believed that at one point the house served as a place to store prisoners of the village, but when we opened it up, we found dolls and drawings and toys and books, not advanced enough for an adult. The idea that children were once sacrificed in this place returned to me and I had to leave the cell immediately.   
	Yesterday we explored the head of the mansion’s old room. It is a large bedroom filled with beautiful red paper lanterns and a large mirror. It was an opulent room, fitting for someone with great wealth and I imagined how beautiful it would look with the lanterns lit, but didn’t dare waste our lighters. On the second floor was a room that, oddly, had small wooden dolls with red and black dyed straw for hair that had ropes tied around their necks and were hanging from the ceiling. However, that is not the strangest thing about this room, there is also the matter of the side wall. The entire mansion, considering the era of which it was built, is made of stone and wood, not metal. The wall no longer truly exists; it has been blown back, the supports curled outward like the teeth of a tremendous mouth. It was that that struck me as strange, a force that could curl wood in that way. However, when I asked Jacobs about it, he informed me that no force in the scientific world could bend but not break wood. I wonder if a ghost did that, but it seems so… violent.

October 4, 2003

	For many years, there have been legends and rumors of the rituals that the masters of the Matsuei family have performed. However, when we asked around the village, people either pledged ignorance on the topic or simply ignored us. There was fear on the face of every person we asked. What could possibly be so scary about something that happened over a hundred years ago? If it happened at all? People refused to speak to us after we asked that question, everyone except for one woman. We could tell that she was in need of money, sitting on a street corner with her four young children, peddling some handmade pottery. After giving her 5,000 yen from my own pocket money, she was more than willing to talk to us. Jacobs rolled his eyes at my charity, muttering under his breath about my softness for women and children. I didn’t correct him because it was true. I don’t have a family of my own and the sight of her hungry children struck me in the heart. Perhaps that is why the idea that the mirror ghost is a child is so painful to me?   
	The woman was fairly old and the children were in fact her grandchildren and her daughter and son in law had died a few years ago. Without a job, it was difficult for her to take care of the children, but she was trying. As a child, her own grandmother had told her one of the stories of their village. The whole thing sounded so fantastical that even I was skeptical to its validity. Jacobs told me later that he believed that the woman was senile, but I have no doubt that she believed it to be the truth. Apparently, many, many years ago, there was a sacred ritual to appease something that she referred to as ‘The Darkness.’ According to her, the Darkness was the greatest evil in the world. It was evil, fear, and death. The Darkness can consume a person and become like a parasite, feeding off the negative emotions of everyone it comes in contact with and killing every living thing. The ritual had been started after the death of the Shinto priests of so long ago by the Matsuei family master. The woman said that her grandmother thought that the priests had found a gateway to the Darkness, but had been unsuccessful in sealing it off, which had resulted in the death of everyone in the village. Rituals have been a part of the culture of Japan for a very long time, but the nature of this so-called ‘Mirror Ritual’ freezes my blood and I know that my friends feel the same. Jacobs appeared even shakier after hearing the following story.  
\*\*\*\*\*  
Every eleven years, in 98 concurrent days, 66 people must be brought in front of the Sacred Mirror and killed. On the 99th day, a Shrine Maiden that has been raised specifically for this purpose, must shatter the mirror and use it to cut up her body, then be strangled by their mother or father or other member of the family. In death, the Shrine Maiden will take the Darkness inside of her body as both the Darkness and the Shrine Maiden will be contained within the shards of mirror. The parent or other member of the family will put the shards back together and the Shrine Maiden’s spirit will seal the mirror, which is the gate to the world of Darkness, keeping it from entering our world for another eleven years. The Shrine Maiden will live in the Darkness, with the power of all of the Shrine Maidens before her, for the rest of existence, keeping the Darkness from pouring out of the mirror. The woman also told us that if the ritual is broken, the Darkness can fracture the Shrine Maiden’s soul. This can also happen if the Shrine Maiden’s soul is in turmoil with itself. Jacobs could barely contain his laughter at the story, but both he and Oswald look disturbed.  
\*\*\*\*\*  
	Tonight I lie in my sleeping bag, staring at the mirror in the room, and think of that legend. I have heard of many cruel things in my life, but to think that a man would raise a child like it was cattle, just for the mere purpose of killing her… it is such a horrible thing… Superstition truly is the root of fear and, dare I say it, evil. I wonder where they got the 66 other sacrifices… the death regards are concurrent with the legend and I don’t doubt that the ritual existed at one point, but I do not believe in any such ‘Darkness’, only the evil that comes from the hearts of men. Perhaps the spirit in the mirror is one of the unfortunate souls that was kidnapped and killed or… could it be a young girl that had been a part of this mansion’s family? I cannot imagine the sort of terrible mentality that would create such a ritual. What was it that the Shinto priests found anyway? It was probably the same old age old fear of mirrors.   
I continue to watch the mirror, hoping I will see our mystery visitor when I feel a strange touch on my shoulder. I tell Oswald to mind his space when I heard it.  
	“I’m waiting.”

October 5, 2003

	Shrine Maidens, called ‘Miko’ here in Japan, still exist today as female helpers at shrines, but many years ago, they had another purpose. ‘Miko’ were women that could see things, prophets, shamanesses, mediums, they were oracles, sacred virgins. In ancient times, these women would go into deep trances and give prophecies. However, as time went on, miko became the daughters of the head Priest, and they mostly performed ritual dances and helped in ceremonies. Nowadays, Shrine Maidens are employees or volunteers of shrines, but a long time ago, they were virgins with sacred powers and always female. It is because of this that the names of those that died on the 99th day confuse me. If all of those that were sacrificed on that day were Shrine Maidens and therefore female, why are there male names on that list and why, on some of the scraps of journal that we managed to scrounge up from previous members of the Matsuei family, were some of males of the family also called Shrine Maidens? Apparently, the family was not discriminate in their choices of sacrifice which raises a lot of questions in my mind. If it is not specifically the Shrine Maiden that is important, maybe it is the child of the head of the family, which does seem to be the case.   
	Everything is going so wrong. I try to delve myself into my research, ignoring the states of my colleagues, but now it is impossible. The equipment has stopped working, or rather, they pick up nothing, even the things that our eyes are seeing. Is it mass hysteria? Are we all going mad? Oswald is very, very sick, he coughs nonstop and sleeps most of the day and I fear that it has become something that we will not be able to stop. He is so pale and shakes. Jacobs spends all day on the computer, going over old data and muttering constantly. Stevens and Harock spend their days wandering the mansion while I watch the mirrors. I can feel madness creeping up on me. I can see the figure in the corner of my eyes, but it always disappears when I turn around. At night, I can hear it whispering at me.   
	“I’m waiting.”  
	It’s always the same. What are you waiting for, little one? Why won’t you show yourself? I can’t help you unless you speak to me! 

October 9, 2003

	Why did I wish for such a thing? Surely, I have doomed us all! They’re all gone now… I saw it, in the mirror. Not just a flash of white this time and now I know why one of us saw red and another white….  
	My fears have been confirmed, it is a child. I cannot discover the being’s gender since the child is so young, seven or eight, I think. The spirit wears a pure white, sleeveless kimono, but it is stained with bright red blood in some places and I can see why. Its skin is snowy pale, but across that skin are huge cuts, forever bleeding, the being’s form terribly mutilated. There is a terrible bruise on its neck, its hair hiding its face. There is a small bell on a red ribbon tied to the ghost’s tiny ankle. But, the child is not alone. A few nights ago I saw another, dressed and looking the same, but older, about the age of a teenager. This ghost has huge… specters… protruding from the back, like terrible parasites, distorted, contorted, screaming horrors. We saw it in the mirrors, ALL of the mirrors, even in the reflection of our cameras. It reached for me inside of the mirror and I ran, my fear overpowering my actions. As bad I feel for the spirit, I AM afraid of it. But, tonight, something horrible happened. I saw the spirit again, but it was not inside of the mirror, it was here, walking among us! It walks on bare feet, but it is real, the floor creaking under the weight, like a living person, but when its bare skin touched the wood, it rotted, like death as a form of real energy! I was right! But, that all means nothing now. Cuts have started to form on our bodies. They itch and hurt so badly, bleeding profusely. Every day that passes, more and more appear, even though we stay wide awake in fear of what will happen.   
	We found an underground passageway under a broken tatami mat in the blood-stained room. It was a stone staircase leading down into the dark, supported by old wooden beams that looked like they would break at any minute. We found the door and I am sure that the room behind was the place of the mirror ritual, but we could not figure out the stone lock. Even Jacobs could not solve the puzzle and we gave up on it. I know now that that… child… is responsible for my friends’ deaths. That’s right, they are all dead and I am alone in this awful place.   
	Oswald was the first to leave. He was so very sick. He had stopped eating and his body was just wasting away in front of my eyes, only, it happened in only a few days, which is, of course, impossible. He choked on his own blood, dying in his sleep. We put his body in the closet, unable to look at it. Jacobs finally conceded that we should leave the mansion, but to our utter shock, none of the doors would open. We are trapped here. So close to the mountains, our cell phones are useless. There is no way out.   
Jacobs died shortly after Oswald. After looking after the equipment and discovering that they have not recorded anything, he claimed that all of this was a hoax, even Oswald’s death. He became obsessed with finding the thing in the mirror. He told me that he saw the child and then the teenager. After he saw that, he was never the same. He went… mad. I think that he realized the truth, that there was no way out and that we were all going to die in here. I found his body in the long hallway of ropes, hanging there. I think that he couldn’t take the fear anymore and killed himself. Will the same happen to the rest of us? Or at least, that is what I had thought then, but now I know that losing my sanity is the least of my worries.   
	Stevens once spoke to me how the mansion spoke at night and how the walls have started to rot. I told him that it was the spirit, but he is unsure of that. He has walked the mansion many times over and, before he died, he was convinced that the spirits and energies of this place were affecting metals and woods and even plants. We kept Jacob’s body in the hallway, hanging. I didn’t see the point in taking him down, just to stash him in a closet, at least he is safe there. I found Stevens there, next to Jacob’s body. He had taken down one of the ropes and was… bleeding on it. When I had demanded what he was doing, he told me that the ropes were soaking up his blood, like the feeding of a living organism. I watched in horror as he cut up his arm and the blood dripped onto the old rope, then… disappeared, like it had indeed been drunk by something. He continued to make cuts, enthralled with the sight of his bright red blood feeding into the ropes. I dragged him back to our room, but I was inattentive. He escaped me and returned to the hallway, slicing open his flesh and feeding the ropes until there was nothing left to bleed. When I found him, it was in bits and pieces. A foot and arm and head here and there, tangled in individual ropes like toy doll in a spider’s web. I could not bear to untangle him.  
	I returned to our room to find that, not only was Harock missing, but Oswald’s body as well. I do not know why I thought to do so, but I began running to that hallway and I could only stare in complete horror at the sight of my friends, all of them, dead and hanging there. Harock was there, too, his eyes still bleeding, but quite dead, as if he had had some sort of aneurism. I have gone mad… haven’t I, my friends? I’m sure that I am insane…   
	I am sitting in front of the mirror in our room again. I couldn’t bare to be in that horrible hallway with my dead friends. What is happening here? Did that child really do this? I am waiting for that child. It will come for me tonight, I am sure. Come for me little one… I cannot take the darkness anymore. I cannot take the voices. I cannot take the loneliness… I am waiting…

It came. 

End Prelude