Derbyshire, England: Matlock and Matlock Bath are Edwardian towns clinging to the side of a steep and heavily forested gorge. The river Derwent snakes through the valley below. They are idyllic places in which to live.

But in the year 1893 something is lurking in the mists that roll down the valley. Hideous and relentless; it is murdering the inhabitants buy masquerading the deaths in a fiendish way. The townspeople are divided. Are they victims of an irresistible force, or is it just unfortunate happenstance?

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The blonde-haired girl was fresh faced, about the age of seventeen. She was dressed in a blue flowing dress that looked incredibly soft, as if it were made from the finest silk. She stopped about ten-feet away from Martha and smiled at her.

Martha smiled back; there was something so very familiar about this girl, if only she could put her finger on it. While she was still wondering, the face of the girl began to age. Years past by in a matter of seconds. The once young girl was easily now in her twenties, thirties, forties, fifties and then instantly Martha recognised her.

“Alice! I didn’t recognise you my dear, you were so young”

Before Martha now stood Alice Athalia, Martha’s deceased sister. Martha realised immediately that she was having a vision within a dream. And what a lovely dream to see her sister once more. The years continued to transform Alice until she looked exactly as Martha remembered the last time that she had seen her alive. Now in her eighties, Alice was a picture of beautifully-matured womanhood.

“Alice my dear, how are you? What wisdom from the after-life do you have for me?”

Martha was genuinely elated to be conversing with her sister once more. Alice had died just under five years ago, in London. But Martha wasn’t interested in that now. She had her sister to speak with from the great beyond. And she was going to avail herself of the incredible opportunity that it afforded