I can still remember the stiffness of my spine as i stood in place. The things awful manifestation of what can hardly be described as everyday sound being produced by everything and nothing.  My body was too alarmed by the assault on my senses to run, regardless of every cell in my being screaming to survive.

The stiffness was finally broken as I felt what I assumed to be the ground starting to shift and produce nauseating groans. I fell to my knees to avoid falling, whilst my breath only increased. My heart made an awful thumping in my head, My hands made a try at shielding my ears to no avail. When i could muster the faint glimmer of bravery I had left in my poor, drained body, my eyes found themselves slowly opening to what I could only describe as beyond our small-minded Comprehension of hell.

I shot up in my bed as my eyes flew open, my breathing was stiff and labored. I began checking my body in a panic until I finally calmed down. A bead of sweat fell from the tip of my nose before i swallowed my worry. This is the second month I have been plagued by these unending nightmares of unimaginable horror. Some may think i must be dramatic, but I have lost more than just sleep over this affliction. It started after attending my wife Amiline's Funeral. She had been walking down the street shopping in the foreign center before a drunk driver ended her and what felt like my own life.

My body found what you could call its morning strength before i drug my legs to the edge of the bed. The room was painted in the faint afterglow of the morning overcast sky. A gloomy day to be surebut work hardly ends over the state of the sky. I gave a yawn and made my way over to the wardrobe whilst the old floor creaked in response. My hand pulled the door ajar as my face met the mirror on the inner side. "A poor sight to be sure." i thought to myself. Before me stood the sight of a tired gaunt man whom had been far too thrown about by fate. His poor exausted blue eyes appeared grey from the lighting in the room. His hair was short, but loose and ragged as evident from the struggle in the night before.

I lazily donned my attire and approached the front door. On the ground below the slot was a single letter with no markings apparent. As i reached for it, my hand began to shake as if it knew something i had not yet discovered. My vision blurred, i had become quite faint. I steadied myself and breathed deep before the realization had struck my heart and mind with fear that was so palpable it could prove fatal had i been but a decade older. This was how it started, The nightmare, The death sentence. It always started with a single unmarked letter at my door.

Part 1.