Part 1

There is a stairwell facing you, and a window beyond spilling feeble light on an unwashed wooden floor, and a room at the top of the stairs where no light reaches, and in the shadows, as you can make out just barely, the smiling figure of a child.

"Raphael?" You whisper weakly. Except that you know that it is not Raphael. It is not Raphael at all. But you are now frozen to the floor and your voice evaporates into evanescent whips of thin air.

"Why of course it is I, Lisa." The incessantly smiling child answers in a high-pitched singsong voice, the kind of lullaby that strikes you awake at 3 am. His head eerily bobbles from left to right as the stairs screech at his every step. A four-year-old would never weigh so heavy on rotted wood, but perhaps the conscience of a lifetime…?

"Now, now, Lisa. Don't you remember?" He tilts his head lightly forward, almost a pained expression on his face, but the grimace soon morphs back to that toothy grin and beady eyes.

"Don't –" The words are trapped in your throat, clawing to come out. You try to look back but your entire body is petrified, entirely resigned to the slowly descending infant.

"I was born on January 2, 2001. I was far too hairy a baby. Mother said I looked like a chimpanzee. I loved strawberry jam. I loved my sister, too. I loved lakes, but poor Raphael didn't know how to swim. I even - "

"Shut up," you croak desperately, "You are not Raphael." You don't even recognize your own voice. Neither do you notice the stream of tears trickling from your eyes, or the fact that he is only three steps away from you now.

Your whole body trembles as it is thwarted by an icy breeze, stemming from the bottom of your spine, spreading like a thousand searing needles to your mind.

He stops, his face inches away from your knees, looking up expectantly with that horrible innocent smile. "Please." You plead, your voice almost non-existent. "Go away. Leave me alone."

"It's alright, Lisa. We'll finally be reunited. Forever."

I engulf you into the darkness of eternal night.