The Werewolf Chronicles

The Werewolf Chronicles

Preface

The Lost Years



If you have ever picked up a history book, or been to a history class, then you know about the lost years. The years between 1820 and 1836. The years that no one remembers. The years it was said the human race lost all power to influence its destiny. The years everything went to hell, back to earth, then back again to hell, and finally returned to earth once more.



You know that. And you probably know just that.



What actually happened has never been spoken of since. That changes now.



There never was a law, written or not, or even an explicit agreement to starve memories of those years of new ears until they slowly drifted into oblivion - we just did. We each decided to, everyone on his own. I can only guess it was so surreal, so overpowering, so overwhelming, it triggered basic self-defense mechanisms, overshadowing individuality of thought.  No one could talk about it, even if they wanted to.



Writing? That'd have been easier, but what was the point? No one had any reason to take the time to do it. Worse still, no one dared face the risk of awakening his own memories, of finding, or rather, being found by, that agonizing pain that still lurks somewhere in the dark places of all our minds.



Once again, that changes now.



This is my confession. My confession on behalf of the whole human race for our crimes committed, opportunities wasted, and idiotic decisions taken.



This here is a tale of weakness. A tale of agony. A tale of pain. It's the kind of tale you don't want to hear, for it is tragedy that'll only get you down. But above all, this is a tale of the ultimate liberation and triumph. This is a tale of wrongs that were finally set right. For if the pain is forgotten and with it all the wisdom it brought, the same process will eventually start again, that is simply the way the universe works.