It isn’t the darkness, it is the voices and shadows following. Natalia, a tourist in an unknown town down by Fox river, a town with criminal records of not one but thousands of homicides, rape and murders.

A town of darkness, mystery, spine-chillings. Run, run, run! The only thing rushing through her. Who’s there?

8:30pm - June 13, 1998. Natalia went to the old town pub, 20 minutes from the motel she was staying in. Loumage Motel was the best she could find, built almost 67 years ago with 20 rooms.

Succeeding her 20-minute walk she arrived at the pub, she heard stories of the town, stories of the dark, stories about the past.

“Run while you still can”, “Don’t let him catch you”...

Anxious, startled; the only emotions she could feel. With a face as pale as a ghost, Natalia sat down and was approached by an old friend, Carlos, who she once knew when she was younger, was at the same pub asking her about her day and what she’s doing here, they drank and talked for at least threee hours.

11:45pm - June 13, 1998. The more she walked away, the more the person behind her followed.

Natalia left the bar with Luis after finishing their drinks. They walked together through the town into the woods, she turned around. Carlos was gone.

Expeditiously, she ran for her life. She was startled, scared, screaming out for his name, in return heard nothing but silence.

Speechless, muted; the fear stopped all of her emotions. Suddenly, she heard a branch break in the distance, she walked faster, she heard her clumsy feet on the soil crushing the leaves and felt her hands trembling faster than an earthquake, the wind howling behind her and the brightness of the moon fading away, the less light, the less she could call for help, the less chance of survival she had, Who’s there?

12:07am - June 14, 1998. Behind the trees and through the stems of the leaves, she distinguished a manly figure.

She was so petrified, so horror-struck, that even simple things like breathing was a struggle.

The more she walked away, the more the person behind her followed. It was silent (although the women’s internal screams) and fear filled the night.

“Run, Run!”, “Lights, run towards the town’s light”.

Natalia ran faster than her heartbeats, faster than the wind behind her, faster than light. It’s empty. Lock it! Lock it! Lock it tight! The door was sealed.

Safe, safe, she was safe. In the flashing red phone box, she felt safe. 

12:22am - June 14, 1998. She was frightened (although there were alot of people around) and nerve wrecked.

Escape was all she wanted to do. As she unlocked the door and felt the door handle turn 360 degrees, she ran like a scared rabbit running from its predator, in the way of her motel. “2 minutes”, “2 minutes away”, as she approached the motel, she heard her name in the distance, she heard it again, she heard it through the dead trees and howling wind, “Natalia”, “Natalia”.

The more she turned, the more the voice went away, the more she could feel her heart beating in her throat.

Beyond the shadow of doubt, she turned and her life flashed between her eyes as she noticed …