✍ Scribed by Joseph Berna
No coin nor oath required. For personal study only.
Corría el mes de octubre y la noche era realmente infernal.
Hacía más de dos horas que la terrible tormenta había estallado, sucediéndose los relámpagos y los truenos, mientras el agua se desplomaba sobre la región como si fuera una catarata.
A cada relámpago, el cielo se iluminaba, dando un toque fantasmal a la hilera de cipreses que circundaba el cementerio de Layton, pequeño pueblo ubicado a unos sesenta kilómetros de Londres.
Por si fuera poco, el viento llegaba en forma de remolinos, amenazando con engullir a todo aquel que se atreviese a caminar en aquella noche de perros.
Nadie, con toda seguridad.
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