There are some plots of land—real geographic and emotional hotspots—where many awful, occasionally miraculous events have occurred. Traumatic and violent events. Moments of great sacrifice and love.

These locations become saturated with blood, emotion, and ectoplasm that mix together into a consciousness of great emotions, mostly fear and hate, but also a gluttonous desire to again experience peace and love. It cannot wander far. These locations are traps. It has nowhere to go but up into the structures that grow or are built upon that plot.

We call some houses haunted.

To the entities that haunt those houses, we are brilliant lights in the darkness, food, and excruciatingly temporary.

From “ad perficiendum“:

“Everything breaks down. During a season of harms / every disaster looks premeditated.”

What other harms are committed during that terrible season?