Vierra winced awake and noticed she was lying on an opening that led inside the cliff. Underneath her, she could feel the cold surface of the rock, and behind her twinkled the bare, star-filled sky. Forward, somewhere in the depths of the corridor, she could see a fluttery gleam of light. Vierra got up and approached it cautiously. Soon the corridor opened up into a big cave. In the middle was a fire, and behind the flames was the Mother. She stood facing the wall, away from Vierra, painting the wall with a color as red as blood. The huge walls of the cave were covered in pictures of men, animals, and life. There were the deer, the salmon, and the moose, the most important game for the Kainu. Amid them were the gallant wolf, bear, and wolverine. The entire history of the tribe was painted on the walls. Somewhere they hunted, somewhere they loved, here and there the children ran around playfully. The gloom of the fire made the wall paintings flicker and overlap. Some showed battles against men or beasts, in which the red paint looked the most like blood. The changing light made one picture disappear, only to reveal another one beneath it. In turn, this one also disappeared and made way for a third. The movement of the lively flame made Vierra doubt her eyes, and she blinked furiously to clear them.

Vierra hizo una mueca de dolor al despertar y se dio cuenta de que estaba acostada enfrente de una entrada que conducía hacia el interior del acantilado. Debajo de ella podía sentir la fría superficie de la roca, y detrás de ella titilaba el cielo descubierto, lleno de estrellas. Adelante, en la profundidad del pasillo, podía ver un destello parapente de luz. Vierra se levantó y caminó cautelosamente hacia el destello. Pronto el pasillo se convirtió en una enorme caverna. En medio de la caverna se encontraba una fogata, y detrás de las llamas estaba la Madre. Ella estaba parada viendo hacia la pared, dándole la espalda a Vierra, pintando la pared con un rojo color sangre. Las paredes inmensas de la caverna estaban cubiertas de dibujos de hombres, animales, y vida. Se encontraba el venado, el salmón, y el alce, los más importantes para los cazadores Kainu. Entre ellos también estaban los majestuosos lobo, oso y carcayú. La historia entera de la tribu estaba plasmada sobre las paredes. En algunos lugares cazaban, en algunos amaban, aquí y allá los niños corrían y jugaban. El baile de las llamas hacia que las pinturas en la pared cambiarán y se traslaparan. Algunas mostraban batallas contra hombres o bestias, en cuales la pintura roja verdaderamente parecía sangre. La luz cambiante hacia desaparecer un dibujo sólo para revelar otro por debajo del primero. A su vez, este también desaparecía para dar lugar a un tercero. El movimiento vivo de las llamas hizo que Vierra dudará lo que veía, y parpadeó furiosamente para despejar su vista.

Prologue 1: Hell

The night was dark and cold, the darkest and the coldest that he had ever experienced in his life. The car clock, with large, orange coloured numbers, marked one fifty-five in the morning, and right at that hour it was approaching zero degrees, which shouldn’t be seen as strange, as he was in the middle of an open field on the outskirts of the village. Though the glacial days of hard winter had yet to set in, the winter was close to winning the battle that it does every autumn.
In spite of this fact, the man's body was drenched in sweat. He snuggled even closer to the seat of his car, with the key in the ignition, ready to start in a hurry if necessary. Half of his body, which was quite large since he was a very bulky man, was barely hidden under the dashboard, and he did not know how much longer he was going to be able to endure that awkward posture. The clutch had long been embedded in his body more than advisable, and a similar thing happened with his twin pedals, the brake and the accelerator.
Outside, the reflection of the flames drew sinister shapes over the glass. A curious mixture, as it was raining as if someone up there had decided to repeat the antediluvian flood. If it had not been for the falling rains, the flames would have consumed the town completely long ago. Although at times, torrential rain seemed to fan the flames instead of shutting them out. The unpleasant, viscous liquid that covered the streets was as inept as petrol, but more difficult to control.
He gathered up what little strength of will he still had, and raised his head to look out, and not another millimetre more. Less than a hundred metres away, the village was aflame.
He tried to justify it to himself by thinking that he had no choice but to start the fire. He had to. It was the only way to end the nightmare. Above his head, the sky threatened to fall completely.
Suddenly he felt a lack of air. More than that, he was convinced he would drown if he did not open the bloody car window, even if they were only a few centimetres. He did, and the smell of burnt wood hit his nose like a fist.
The feeling of choking increased. He tried to push the window down all the way, but it became stuck midway. For the first time in his life, he felt claustrophobic. He had to get out of the car now, at that very moment, without waiting another bloody second. He pulled up the lock on the door and grabbed the handle with shaking hands. He slipped a couple of times through the sweat mixed with rainwater coming through the hole he had managed to open, and although he could not turn it, the door remained closed.
‘Shit!’ he cursed between his teeth. He had just remembered that he had an appointment with the mechanic to arrange insurance payments that same week, but he did not think he could arrive. Firstly, because he was quite busy, as the orange reeks of the fire and the smell of smoke showed, and secondly because the workshop was, at that moment, fodder to the flames, with its owner.
He pulled out his arm and groped nervously in the darkness for the door handle. The atmosphere outside was frosty compared to the interior of the car.
‘Wait a second, it will get warmer. If it continues raining like this then the dam will overflow, but if it stops raining the flames will reach the bushes and it will burn everything for several kilometres all around,’ he said to himself out loud.
He felt a sharp pain in his wrist, and the cold suddenly seemed unbearable.
It is but a cramp, it’s too cold outside, he thought to himself, still fidgeting for the door handle, but something was wrong. His fingers had gone so numb that he could not feel the touch of the door.
He pulled his arm back into the car, thinking of trying it with his other hand. In doing so, he discovered that part of his white shirt had disappeared, and it had taken his hand with him. When he was finally able to look away from the hypnotic bleeding hole he looked outside.
There was a little red-headed boy outside. Under the pouring rain.
He was smiling.
And between his angular cheekbones, there was a piece of his white shirt.
‘Shit!’ he shouted, trying to start the car with his only hand. He turned the key in the ignition and the engine, thank God, roared loudly. He grabbed the clutch and put it into first gear. He released the gearshift lever and picked up the steering wheel. The front of his shirt was tinted with the colour of red wine, and now only one of the sleeves held the original immaculate white. He released the steering wheel to change the gear, and the car jumped and was about to go to the embankment. In the rear-view mirror the red-haired boy's face began to fall behind with his nightmarish smile. Ahead, the burning village was approaching. Although he had put the windshield wipers into motion, they could not cope with so much water.

It was a cold, dark night, the darkest and coldest he had ever experienced. The large, orange numbers on the dashboard clock showed it was one fifty-five in the morning, As it changed to show the hour on the dot, the temperature indicator told him it was zero degrees out, which wasn’t strange as he was in the middle of an open field on the outskirts of town. Though the harsh days of glacial cold hadn’t yet set in, winter was fast winning the yearly battle against autumn.
The man's body was drenched in sweat despite this. He huddled even closer to his seat. He had the key in the ignition, ready to start it in a hurry if necessary. Half of his body, which was quite large since he was a very burly man, was partially hidden by the dashboard, and he didn’t know how much longer he was going to be able to stand being in such an awkward position. The clutch pedal had practically become part of his body, pressing against him more than was comfortable, the same as its brothers, the brake and accelerator pedals.
Outside, the reflection of the flames drew sinister shapes on the glass. A curious mix, as it was raining as if someone had decided to re-enact Noah’s flood. The flames would have already consumed the town completely If not for the rain, although it seemed at times that torrential rain fanned the flames instead of putting them out. The unpleasant, viscous liquid that covered the streets was as flammable as petrol but infinitely more difficult to handle.
He gathered up what little strength he still had and raised his head just enough to look out the window. Less than a hundred metres away, the village was aflame.
He tried to convince himself that he had had no choice but to start the fire. He simply had to. It was the only way to end the nightmare. Above him, the sky threatened to rain forever.
Suddenly he felt like he couldn’t breathe. More than that, he was convinced he would suffocate if he did not open the bloody car window, even if only a few centimetres. He did, and the smell of burning wood hit him like a punch to his nose.
The choking sensation increased. He tried to push the window all the way down, but it got stuck halfway. For the first time in his life, he felt claustrophobic. He had to get out of the car now, in that instant. He couldn’t wait another bloody second. He tried to pull the lock on the door up. He grabbed at it with shaking hands. His grip slipped a couple of times because of the sweat mixed with rainwater coming in through the window he had managed to open, and although he could turn it, the door remained closed.
‘Shit!’ he cursed between his teeth. He just remembered that he had an appointment with the mechanic to fix the lock that same week, but he did not think he would be able to make it. First, he was quite busy due to the orange flames of the fire and the smell of smoke, and second because the mechanic’s shop was, at that moment, fuel for the flames, along with its owner.
He stuck his arm out and groped nervously in the dark for the door handle. The temperature outside was frosty compared to the interior of the car.
‘Well, just wait a bit. It will get warmer. If it continues to rain, the dam will overflow. If it stops raining, then the fire will reach the overgrowth around town and it will burn everything for several kilometres,’ he said out loud to himself.
He felt a sharp pain in his wrist, and the cold suddenly seemed unbearable.
It’s just cramp. It’s too cold outside, he thought to himself, still fumbling for the door handle. Something was wrong. His fingers had gone so numb that he could not feel the door anymore.
He pulled his arm back inside the car, thinking of trying to open the door with his other hand. However, he discovered that part of his white shirt was missing, along with his hand. When he was finally able to look away from the bleeding hole he looked outside.
There was a little red-headed boy outside. Under the pouring rain.
He was smiling.
And between his angular cheekbones was a piece of his white shirt.
‘Fuck!’ he shouted, trying to start the car with his other hand. He turned the key in the ignition and the engine, thank God, roared loudly. He grabbed the stick and put it into first gear. He let go of the lever and grabbed the steering wheel. The front of his shirt was stained as red as wine, and only one of the sleeves was still immaculately white. He released the steering wheel to change the gear, and the car jumped and was about to go off into the embankment. In the rear-view mirror the red-haired boy's face with it’s terrifying smile began to fall behind. Ahead, the burning town was approaching. Although he had put the windshield wipers into motion, they could not cope with so much water.