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A lone runner crosses the moors of Fagne de Malchamps at the dead of a winter’s night. His heart beats to the rhythm of his feet on the wooden platforms. His breath forms small clouds in the beam of his head torch. He enjoys these nights alone in nature. They revive his soul and clear his mind. But not this night. He is not quite at ease. He is thinking about the name of these moors: mal champs or evil fields. He can image why it’s called that way. The place is desolate and he just can’t help but think about the ghosts [...]