When I was a child, my nanny used to tell me stories about death. After dying, she said, the werewolf would enter the world of the Void, where the Moon Goddess would wait for her child. All the undead will rest in the arms of Mother Luna. But she never told me that death was torment and burning.

A raging fire was scorching my body, hot, very hot. I was like a bound chrysalis, tormented by burning pain. I was so miserable that I wanted to scream, but I could not make a sound. I tried to free myself, but I had no strength. My nerves were paralysed, my mind...