Tuesday, October 11, 2005. Eric Boisseranc returns home to Chazay d´Azergues, a small village in Beaujolais, a little earlier than usual. It is 17.00. Marine, his twenty-year-old daughter, is already there. His car is parked in the driveway. As he enters, Eric sees lights in the half-light of the living room. Marine left the shutters closed, to be able to watch TV. She may not have heard her father come in. He calls him. No answer. Intrigued, Eric Boisseranc descends the four steps leading to the living room. A few paces from him, next to the fireplace, he sees a dark red puddle. He's still getting closer. And howls.
