PROLOGUE

The large double glaze windows where open wide. The breeze blew at the thinn white patern-covered curtains that hung by the left and on the right. It was cold outside. The moon was up and it cast a light across the cealing and the walls, in the room that was also cold.
Inside the cool air didn't bother her. The woman lay awake on her a bed thinking of nothing that could be described in words. Her chest rose slowly, the covers where pulled back and a dampened sweat coaxed her neck in an excess that contradicted the temperature. She was almost inmobile, except for the fingers that clutched and pulled at the sheets bellow her and around her body, that twisted in an elegant display of curved limps and torso.
She had red hair that burned against the pillow. Her face was unidentifiably aged in a tangent that played along with her eyes. They didn't say much at first glance, but they where beautifully grey, and cold, and from time to time filled themselves with an energy that might have been terror or might have been something that transcended terror. They moved slightly at the cealing and then they followed an unidentifiable insect that flew around looking for an exit, bumping up and down against the fresh looking paint that covered it. Her lips had started to move but no sound came out. It might have been a name that she was saying over and over and over and over.

The night was silent, absolutely covered in a blanket of oblivion, except for the breeze that moved and shuddered trees in the distance. The room was bare. There wasn't a clock in sight but it must have been deep into the night. The woman lived alone but tonight her mind was not alone all. It was still caught up in a dream she'd had, of a savage encounter. She turned her head towards the window and closed her eyes. She felt the cold breeze on her face and sighed a whisper that only the four sisters heard.
In the first seconds of the first hour of monday, the dream faded from her memory. But the terror was set and moved inside her changing her in ways that could never be undone. Her lips parted again and this time the sound was heard by the moon, and they formed the words of a prayer that the four sisters snatched and tore away with them into the the night. While the echoes of the bells faded in the distance, Emilie died and a new woman took her place and wore her skin, that she would use to walk outside and beyond the cold of the midnight morning.