It was dark that night, as night generally was -- but it was more than just the mere absence of sunlight on the night of January 6th 1900 that made Laurent DeFantome feel ill at ease. There was a certain darkness of purpose to the night, a dark portent of things to come that he could not quite shake. It felt as though the very stars themselves were ill at ease to look down upon him, lest they see the foul deeds to which he aspired... It had been two years now, since the passing of his twin -- two years since the very core of his heart and been torn from his chest and he had been cast into the great pit of mourning. But Laurent DeFantome would not remain in this darkness forever -- for even as the moon overhead waxed, he would find new light for himself. Rather, he would bring back the light which he had lost. Today, January 6th, was their birthday and it was tonight, that he would finally fulfil his quest and wrest his twin back from the chill hands of death.

He had been preparing for months now, gathering ingredients, performing profane rituals which would prepare him to tear through the veil which divided the both of them -- and now, he stood in the light of the cresent moon in the very churchyard where his twin was buried. In the low light, he could not see the words engraved upon the tombstone but he knew what was inscribed there as he had been here many times since his twin had died and the very thought of the name that was engraved upon that tombstone caused bile to rise in Laurent's throat and heat to sear his veins. Of course their parents buried him under the name he had been given at birth -- and buried him in the clothing of the sex from which he had been so eager to escape... But it was no matter -- Laurent would make sure that his twin would never have to bear that indignity again, that he would be free to live in what ways felt true to him... Though perhaps, free was not quite the right word for it.

The appointed hour was fast approaching, however, and Laurent needed to be in the correct mental state to work this magic -- to call upon something far more ancient and more powerful than himself, something which he could not fully comprehend that promised him the necessary power to do the impossible. The circle was drawn and the correct symbols laid out around its circumference, the blood seemed unnaturally bright on the white snow, glistening wetly in the pale moonlight. He drew in a deep breath, preparing himself. He would feel it when the time came, he would know when the moment was right.

Indeed, a strange tingling sensation came over his limbs -- like a thousand crawling spiders lodged beneath his skin, desperate to break free. All the world went silent and even the bitter cold now seemed far away. He didn't need a clock to know that it was just after one o'clock in the morning, the time at which he and his brother had been born, the moment at which they had come into this world and the moment when all the necessary threads could be gathered to pull Laurent's twin back to him. With a cold steel blade in one hand and a leatherbound journal containing the incantation he needed in the other, the dark-haired young man began his profane ritual.