<span class="bbc_u"><strong>Prologue</strong></span><br/><br/><div class="quoteheader"><div class="topslice_quote">Quote from: H.P. Lovecraft</div></div><blockquote class="bbc_standard_quote">To no gale of earth’s kind<br/>            Sways the forest of oak,<br/>      Where the sick boughs entwin’d<br/>            By mad mistletoes choke,<br/>For these pow’rs are the pow’rs of the dark, from the graves of the lost Druid-folk.<br/></blockquote><div class="quotefooter"><div class="botslice_quote"></div></div><br/>He was stressed. And tired. The meeting had gone badly. Four of the five suppliers were backing out on the deal and as junior exec it was his head that now lay on the chopping block. This was the reason why James had decided to take the scenic route back to Cardiff and clear his head. The trees on the left side of the road swayed gently in the late summer breeze. This, coupled with the shining sun would have made the drive a pleasant affair if not for the intensely wierd sense of dread that filled the air. The trees, rather than seeming green and full of life seemed<em>too</em>full of life. It was as though they bent forward with malign intent, their branches hoping to scrape the windshield of the car or force a blow out by pushing their thorny tips against his tyres. Perhaps it was James' foul mood that reduced him to such morbid fancies.<br/><br/>It all happened in a split second but for James it seemed that time had slowed down. A woman emerged from the trees. She was young and slender, her naked body clothed in nothing but garters of flowers around her wrists and ankles. Her golden hair was matted and sweat soaked. Her eyes wild with a madness beyond fear. She half ran-half limped straight in front of James' car. He slammed on the breaks but the momentum caused the bonnet to slam into her beautiful body, sending her tumbling like a rag doll over the roof to fall on the roadside behind him.<br/><br/>Cursing he got out of the car and ran toward the naked figure. She was dead, but the nature of her wounds were such that no car could have made. Her body was covered in large red welts, as though somebody had placed huge plungers against her flesh and plunged out most of her blood. That was not, however, the terrifying part. The terrifying part was the hideous look of fear in the cold dead eyes. Eyes that looked as though they had seen something that no sane man was meant to see.