Legends of the Southern Frontier: A Ballad on the Desert

Do you dare turn the first page? This book is not about ghosts. Not about gods. Not about supernatural forces. This book is about a well. At the bottom of the well, someone is counting, from one to seven, every night. When it reaches seven, the water makes a sound. When the water sounds, a new row of handprints appears on the bricks by the well. The same size as your palm. The lines on the palm are identical. As if someone has been standing beneath the bricks, pressing his palm against yours, waiting for you to look down. "Legends of the Southern Frontier: A Ballad on the Desert" is a horror novel that does not rely on adjectives to scare. It relies on this: you know you should not look down, but you still lower your head. You see it. You see something you should not see. You see that those hands are not yours, but they are copying your lines. Twelve units, each a complete horror puzzle. In each unit, there is a person who does not dare turn back, does not dare make a sound, does not dare answer. Because the voice in the well is learning every word you have said, calling you down in your own voice. Hear it once and you think it's an illusion; hear it three times and you think you're going mad. Hear it seven times, and you will find yourself already walking toward the well. After reading each chapter, you will think—I'll turn off the light later. — Description from novelcodex.org