The

The The

I'm going to be the I know it's an incredible story.

I, of all people know this.

And you won't believe me.

No, not at first.

But I'm going to tell you the whole thing.

Then you will believe.

Because you must believe the story of the Howling Man.

The Germany of that time was a land of valleys and mountains and swift, dark rivers.

A green and fertile land, where everything grew tall and straight out of the earth.

There was no other country like it.

Stepping across the border from Belgium,

with a rain caped, stashed guard saluted,

grinning like operetta soldiers,

you entered a different world entirely.

Here, the grass became as rich and smooth as velvet. Deep, thick woods appeared.

The air itself, which had been heavy with the French perfume of wines and sauces changed.

The clean, fresh smell of lakes, pines and boulders came into your lungs.

You stood a moment, then, at the border, watching the

circling hawks above and wondering, a little fearfully how such a thing could happen. In less than a

minute you had passed from a musty ancient room through an invisible door,

...