It was in the spring of 1850, the leaves covered the ground, the clouds obscured the sky and the mist enveloped the atmosphere like a blanket in winter.
At the time, my family and I lived in an impressive lifeless house.
19th century castle with a cemetery of 15 hectares. This castle frightened me, it was far from the city, the trade and the population. On its facade, there was dead ivy. A swamp and a raven fly inspired us to live a pleasant and relaxing life, but these holidays, my sister had taken me to a wilder and much less luxurious place, in a small grey cabin, made of different types of waste. It was very different from the pictures she was showing my parents! The door was dilapidated and the floor was dirty. Inside, there was only one bedroom, two beds, a toilet and a potty where a dead rabbit rested. The strange thing is that pictures of me at all ages were hanging on the wall. But now, we were far from the castle, I couldn't go back....
At night, my sister would come home with a torn dress. The first few nights, I didn't say anything, I was scared. I said to myself, "It didn't have to be serious, it's going to stop." But it continued once, twice, three times... 20 times. Back at the castle, she was dirty, her hair tousled and long in the back. Her red dress was torn and she was wearing a coat to hide her dress. Then she would put on her nightgown and rush to bed. Sometimes his face was very pale and covered with blood. I was afraid of her.
Once, on the twenty-second night, she had walked through the storage room door even more upset than usual. So, with a lot of empathy, I told him:
- Madeline, what's wrong with you?
- Stop it, Marie, stop it!
- Let me help you, Madeline!
- No, stop it! Stop it! Stop it! Stop it! Stop it! Stop it!
Her hands were pinned on her face and blood was starting to flow. With a sudden gesture, I lifted up the duvet and went to get a handkerchief. But when I raised his hand to clean it, I screamed loudly. Her face was completely covered with hair. A wolf? No, a werewolf!
