Three fears tormented my mind as a child: Nyctophobia—the fear of darkness. Teraphobia—the fear of monsters. And Sanguivoriphobia—the fear of vampires. Usually, as one grows older, such ridiculous terrors gradually subside. Yet mine only persisted. The grave events began during my boyhood. They transpired on the night of which I discovered my remarkable gift. But on that night, my three fears also ravenously and quite literally came forth into this world. As a result, I had to make a choice—and I confess, the choice I made has cost me nearly everything. For fourteen years there was a calm in my life. Alas, it was one o' clock a.m.—the dead of night—when the late-summer wind silently declared their return to this world. Indeed, they are coming for me—and my time wanes with the dying light of my candlestick's wavering flame.