Az elátkozott család: Regény

A quiet summer night cloaks the city’s narrow streets in a gentle darkness, just as the faithful prepare for a day of collective prayer and fasting. Lanterns on the riverside flicker like hesitant fireflies, while the distant clang of a lone church bell marks the hour. When an errant night‑watchman dares to recite a verse at midnight, an unseen voice answers in a guttural, otherworldly tongue, sending a shiver through the listeners. The cryptic warning—“Twelve strikes the hour—watch yourself”—spirals into whispered dread, hinting at a force that lies buried beneath the cobblestones.

Soon after, the ground trembles without warning, a low, resonant rumble that awakens every sleeper. Residents stumble out of their homes, disoriented and naked, their eyes fixed on the swaying lampposts and trembling towers. A strange, mournful wind sweeps the quay, carrying an unfamiliar, haunting melody that seems to come from the very heart of the city. As panic spreads, the townspeople gather in the square, each questioning the source of the catastrophe, while the night continues to pulse with an uneasy, unseen presence.