Prologue: Eight Years Ago

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The wind is screaming. It's pitch black outside. I'm freezing, my cheeks are numb and my teeth won't stop chattering. The dying fire throws sputtering light across the room. We hear a crash of metal. My grandmother rushes to the door and tugs with all her strength, wheezing from cold and exhaustion. There's a creek as the rusty hinges give in, then an explosion of light. My older brother staggers inside. A shower of sparks crackles above our heads. The bare light bulb on our ceiling flickers and turns on.

My brother laughs, a strange mad laugh that makes my blood run cold. My grandmother yells at him. Her hands are shaking, her face is white with anger.

He snarls like a wild animal.

Then he walks towards me and lifts me so that our eyes meet. For a split second lighting hisses through my veins. My brother wraps me gently in blankets and leaves me there, frozen with shock.

My grandmother cries out. She picks up the poker by the fire, as if she intends to brand him, but he's already gone. The door slams shut with an ear-splitting crash. The light bulb goes out, and we're plunged into near-complete darkness. I hear footsteps outside, the grind of machinery, then nothing but the sound of the wind. My older brother vanishes without a trace into the night.

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