Baltimore, before the sun rises. Under the dark clouds of depression, in the cemetery. Someone slender bowed deeply in front of a cold tombston with a raven relief on it's top. Meanwhile, a gold pendant, showing the form of a bug, shimmered as he lowered his head. He took a sip from the Amontillado in his grip, then left the unfinished bottle with three roses by the tombstone. "Someone is coming." When he turned away from the tombstone, he heard the footsteps of the arriver, then murmured to himself.