We chatted in the living room for an hour. The young man looked pale and kind of scared. Then something outrageous happened, he threw the chair at the wall and said while pointing to the floor “there he is, the old man with the evil eye.” I went to the floor where Peter was pointing. When I pulled the boards, I saw a body cut up in pieces.

It was arranged like a nest. The brittle bones and desiccated rat gnawed flesh surrounded a glinting object. It was a large and gorgeous pearl, and as I gathered it into my hand, I found it was smooth to the touch and very warm.

When the hell-black iris and cornflower blue retina slid into view right in my palm, Peter shrieked and died right there on the spot, his hair a mane of white.