We met him just after dawn, at one of the quietest spots in Vorizia. The Psiloritis wind blew cold, sweeping the courtyards and the souls, carrying the electrically charged atmosphere that has covered the village. On the threshold of his home sits 90-year-old Giannis Fragkiadakis, a venerable figure, with clear eyes and an awake mind, though tired from what he has witnessed. A man who lived through the great vendetta of 1955, who counted dead relatives, friends and neighbors, and now, seventy years later, fears that History is preparing to be rewritten in blood.

Mr. Fragkiadakis, a relative of members of the family allegedly involved in the recent killing, does not mince his words. He speaks with that old, heavy Cretan voice that carries experience, bitterness and fear. “I’m afraid we’re going to live through the same things again. In ’55 we slaughtered each other over a drop of water, over a spring up in the mountain. People were lost, houses were divided, roots were cut forever. And now, the same again. Blood is being spilled again for nothing,” he tells protothema.gr. The elderly man remembers that era vividly: “I was twenty then. I remember us gathering the children into the basements, shutting off the lights, standing guard in the fields. Whoever took the path to the spring risked their life. Men were killed, families destroyed. Back then there was no police to impose order, everyone took justice into his own hands with the gun. And that’s what I’m afraid will happen again.”

His voice trembles, not from old age, but from anxiety. “The village is ready to explode. People are bitter, souls are overloaded. I want police to come, I want a curfew after nine at night. For no one to be out, so no spark is given for new evil. If the authorities don’t come now, if they don’t take command, we will have more dead.” Despite his age, Yiannis Fragkiadakis shows full clarity and deep understanding of what is happening around him. “Here, in the mountains, things are different,” he says. “Honor and one’s word count more than life. When the spark ignites, you don’t put it out easily. That’s why I’m afraid. I have nothing to lose anymore, but I’m afraid for our children and grandchildren.”

When he speaks about the ’55 vendetta, his gaze darkens. “I saw people running drenched in blood, I heard mothers wailing, houses burning. One village mourned and the other rejoiced. That’s how it was then. And now? Now the same thing could happen again. Something could start that will not stop easily.”

He urgently asks for the intervention of the authorities and local elders before it is too late. “Let the wise of the place step in, the venerable ones. Let there be sasmos (reconciliation). Let people who can speak to the families be found. Do not let this slip. I know what vendetta means, it is not a game. It is war inside the same village.”

Closing his shocking testimony, the 90-year-old Cretan leaves a phrase hanging: “Stop the evil now. We don’t need more graves in Vorizia. This land has been soaked enough with blood.”