The journey was terribly long. 18 hours drive from Lyon to Randers in Denmark then take the ferry, reach Stockholm and finally cross over and reach Helsinki. Down there, take a small propeller plane and join the Arctic Circle. In a lost town, there was Dad's workshop that produced paper in his paper refinery. Trees and hundreds of tons of wood were reduced to pulp and then laminated in huge calendars with huge rollers and presses. The entire small town was employed by Dad, or 2/3 of the local population.

Christmas holidays were sacred and everyone had to participate.

Mom was in the paper roll business and Dad in production. My future was all set....................................................................................................................................................

The plane was strangely stable for its size. The pilot was gentle with the controls and made sure to shake us as little as possible. He was a handsome guy. I was the only passenger and he had a dog and mail bags with him. There was no choice but this little plane. But every year we had the same pilot. He flew over the beautiful corners to please me and passed over a nudist beach every year to make me laugh. His name was Hans.

Heater, look, the lakes are frozen and it's minus thirty here! You see the white plate there? it's the ice pack and if it's minus 30 for a month, the road is open to the sea to go directly from Finland to Sweden.

He looked down to the left, but I saw something, a monster coming at us on our right:

"Hans, watch out!!!!!!!! Crashh Grooooaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa!"

iiiiiiiiiiiiiiNNNNNNNNNNN (nose-down engine noise)SLah, propeller explodes

The right wing is missing and claws are tearing the cabin off.

The tail of the plane is torn off and behind my seat, the void.

I look under my seat to see if there is a parachute but not the time. A spurt of blood is spilled on me, Hans is torn in half by gigantic claws.

An eye looks at me and full of fangs

No!!

Noooonn:

noooooooooooo!

The aircraft does not touch the ground but is transported crushed as it is in the air

I shout for help! I want to free myself but my feet are severed and trapped by the crushed cockpit. The engine overreaches and the propeller pieces end up hurting the monster's leg and, in rage, he throws the cabin with me trapped inside towards a cave.

I was ejected but mortally wounded from the plane and fell into a nest with eggs.

My head is against an egg. My blood is spurting on it and my strength is leaving me. My neck must be broken, I can hardly breathe and I can't move. The egg was pale compared to the other coloured eggs. I was in a cave made of lava or schist stone, but I didn't really know.

The cave was gigantic and growls of large predators were heard. There were several of these monsters that shot down my plane.

Strangely, I was not suffering and I was thinking back to an old African legend that said that if you died eaten by a lion, you had a good chance of reincarnating as the one who ate you.

The eggs were coloured and covered with scales. They were wandering life, but the one I was leaning against had nothing.

The beast had finished shredding the cabin and had extracted the body of poor Hans.

She took the carcass and went to throw it away with her wings and left no trace of the plane in the cave. Then she came towards me and I was waiting for the coup de grâce.

Maybe since I had grabbed an egg, she wouldn't do anything. Then I heard crock behind me and the egg was covered with blood. As my neck was broken, I didn't feel anything but the monster had cut me in half. He was swallowing my legs and my lower half.

The cold and the night came quickly. But it was morning... And where we were it was 6 months of day and 6 months of night. I only understood at the last second. It wasn't dark. I was dying.

I felt pressure on my head and jerks in my back and crackles and teeth noises..... Then, the black...........