Everything was going so fast ... as if the events of the last few days had happened in just a few hours ... that's what Mathias thought in his head, as his tired mind reminded him, in spite of himself, these images still marked in him like a hot iron ...

It had started about two weeks ago ... Mathias, as usual, was in his modest apartment in the city of Chartres, looking for a job in the advertisements on his laptop ... then, this call came on his phone, and that would change his life forever ... his mother had just died, of a cardiac arrest ... for the young man, it was a real shock ... he who had always been close of his parents, his father having died a few years ago ... and now he had lost them both ...

Although having only a very modest bank account, Mathias had wanted, out of honor and respect towards his mother, to pay for the funeral which took place in the cemetery of Chartres where she was buried, on a gloomy day or the rain and the gray clouds were the masters. Mathias was the only member of his family to be present, because he knew it now, he was the last one still alive ... all the others were simple friends of the deceased ...

But a few days later, Mathias was summoned to the notary, who after giving him the papers certifying the inheritance of his mother's money, also revealed to him that he had inherited something else ... Big surprise, Mathias learned that his family had owned a house somewhere in Transylvania for several generations. Mathias then wondered why he had never been made aware of the existence of this house, but the lawyer could not satisfy his curiosity. Mathias knew, however, that his family had Transylvanian roots, with his ancestors apparently having been lords ruling the region in the 1600s.

Now the heir and new owner of a house in Eastern Europe that he had never seen before, Mathias, intrigued, decided to make the trip. Thus, it would allow her to be able, in a way, to mourn her mother, and also to find out why she had kept it a secret all this time. But the young French man was very far from imagining what would reserve this trip for him ...

The memories faded so Mathias could finally come back to reality and the present moment. Opening his eyes and emerging from his unhealthy sleep, he straightened up in the seat he was sitting on, his ears cradled by the sound of the bus engine.

Mathias Derune. 29 years. 1 meter 88. Slender face, blue-green eyes, long brown hair, a small mustache and a small goatee on the chin. A thin body, warmly dressed all in black: boots, pants, t-shirt, large and thick coat, gloves and hat. The minimum necessary for this winter season.

Mathias was a young French writer, having already written a few short horror stories and books, but had never managed to make a name for himself and draw attention to his works. But that hadn't stopped him from continuing to write, being one of his main passions. Mathias had never been the most popular or the most sociable of boys, being rather homey by nature and liking his solitude.

After rubbing his still sleepy eyes and regaining his senses a little, Mathias took the earphones of his mp3 out of his ears, and turned off the metal music he wasn't really listening to now.

Looking around vaguely and silently, he could see that he was still on that bus, sitting in the front row, just behind the driver, a guy in his forties, bald as an egg, who was focused to drive his vehicle. The bus had been driving for several hours now, on a deserted road in the middle of a snowy region, more and more mountainous and rather wild in appearance, with these large forests around. After arriving by plane at Budapest airport, Mathias stayed for a day in a small hotel in the city center, before taking the first bus that could take him to the next small town, where the inherited house was normally located.

Behind him, Mathias could hear the voices of the few other passengers who were making the trip with him. There were barely ten of them in the vehicle, including himself. A couple, with their two children. A man, sitting alone in the back, dressed as an accountant and focused on his laptop. Another man, who since the start of the journey had fallen asleep and was snoring rather loudly. Mathias remembered that the snoring was one of the reasons he put his headphones in his ears.

Mathias also glanced out the window of the bus right next to him. Before him, this magnificent and almost supernatural landscape paraded. These great distant and snow-capped mountains, with at their feet these forests similar to real vegetal seas. Here, nature still made the law. It was only the beginning of the afternoon, but yet the lumonisity had already faded, almost as if dusk was already on the way.

Not sure what to do to spend the endless minutes in this bus that smelled like old iron, and sitting on that rather uncomfortable seat, the young writer reached into his trouser pocket and took a picture of it and unfolded it. A photograph of him, as a child, sitting on the sofa in the living room, and next to him, his mother, smiling and radiant with life. A sad smile formed on Mathias's lips as he watched. He remembered that this photo had been taken on his birthday. He also remembered that that day, his uncle had challenged himself to break an egg on his head, and had dirtied the carpet because of it. Mathias laughed to himself, remembering his mother's anger towards the uncle at that moment.

But very quickly, the young man's thoughts turned to less happy ideas. Since he had left France for Transylvania, Mathias could not remove from his mind this story of an inherited house which would belong to his family for generations. Why had he never known before? Did the rest of the family, now all deceased, know that? All this really intrigued Mathias ... why keep such a secret?

Knowing that he wouldn't get the answer just by looking at this photo, he folded it up and put it in his pocket.

_ "Excuse me ... is it still far?" Mathias then asked, leaning forward a little to speak to the bus driver.

_ "Ah, we still have a few hours, sir ..." replied the latter without looking away from the road. "... wish I had taken the shortcut I usually take, but no luck, a damn avalanche blocked the way ... you know, you're not the only one in a rush to get there too."

_"Oh really? Why?" Mathias asked, having nothing better to do than strike up a conversation.

_ "It's true, you are not from the country ..." said the driver with a forced little laugh, it felt. "It's up to you to believe it or not, but this region has a dark reputation ... for decades, a lot of people have disappeared around here, and none have ever been seen again ... even the forces of order no longer dare to come here, because of several of their patrols which also disappeared while searching for the missing... since then, some claim that the region would be haunted or inhabited by monsters, like vampires or werewolves."

Mathias raised an eyebrow, puzzled. Vampires? Werewolves? A sort of local urban legend, no doubt, even if the mysterious disappearances lasting for decades could be true. Some kind of new Bermuda Triangle, the young man thought jokingly in his head. Although he was a big fan of monsters and horror films, having even written several horror books, he still knew how to keep a sense of reality. But even though he didn't seem to believe it too much, Mathias could have sensed the tone in the driver's voice ... he feared this place, but with the shortcut having been blocked by an avalanche, he had no other choice.

_ "And you, sir ..." asked the driver, always so friendly "what brings you to our country, if the question is not intrusive of course."

_ "Well ... I inherited a house from my mother who passed away two weeks ago." said Mathias, wanting to be sincere.

_ "Oh ... sorry for you ..." said the driver "... a house, eh?"

_ "Yep ..." Mathias breathed, letting his back rest against the back of the seat. "A house I didn't even know existed two weeks ago."

But as they were chatting, a short, low thud exploded in everyone's ears, startling everyone who jumped into their seats. Mathias recognized there the sound of exploding tires. Immediately, and to everyone's dismay, the bus began to deviate dangerously, zigzagging more and more on the road, and the driver was unable to regain control of his vehicle. In the bus, panic and screams set in. As panicked as the others but not shouting, Mathias clung as much as possible to his seat, shaken in all directions by the anarchic movements of the vehicle in full distress of its means.

_ "HOLD ON!" yelled the driver.

And suddenly, Mathias, along with all the other passengers, saw in horror the front of the bus crashed into and head through the metal security barrier on the edge of the mountainous road. The bus then began to hurtle down the rocky and snowy slope faster and faster, falling towards the edge of a forest below and shaking the passengers back and forth as if they were in a giant washing machine.

Unable to see what was going on, he was being shaken in all directions, Mathias had just enough time to see, for a short moment, the trunk of a tree that the bus hit with full force, in an orchestra of metallic clashes and stopping in its fall. For Mathias, everything became dark and he sank into unconsciousness at the very moment of the collision.