After the day was done, Marcus shuffled through piles of snow on the way to his cottage-away from civilization. He still couldn't get that note off his mind. Then, he heard a noise coming from beyond the woods! Then another! It sounded like a twist between a horse and a rabid ferret. "Who's there?!" Marus asked cautiously. No anwser. Marcus ingnored it and strodded forward. Marcus got to his hobbled chipped and battered cabin just before sundown. He set down his bag and when he turned around he was confronted by a certain number painted on the walls of his cabin....13! "Stupid pranksters!" This made Marcus infuriated! After 3 hours Marcus calmed down and something struck his mind-he had memories of an old tale..the 13th legend. It was the number of people assasinated in a big feast! Ever since then, 13 has been the unluckiest number next to 666. But little did he know that the unlucky number was his signal for near death! Little did he know that his death awaited him outside his door...TO BE CONTINUED...