It was dark out. Families in the small and sparse towns of the prairies were likely in bed. Perhaps they were reading before drifting into the depths of sleep, or perhaps they were completing the last chores of the night before tucking in. But what they were doing is unimportant, for they are not the center of this story. Images of a man in black flashed through his head, but he couldn’t remember just who this man was. He could remember, however, that his name was Jonathan, and that he had been sent out to gather some firewood, since it would be, was, a cool night. Silence.