*This story was written after, by "coincidence" I visited the place from my dreams that I`ve never seen before. My stories are half dreams, half my imagination. *
“Maybe I have been here before”, she wondered. It seemed like a fantasy place. That or the dream seemed like a reality. “Again?” She second-guessed even the smallest detail through the dimly, blurry car window. This sight wakes her up instantly from a lulled dream, into which she was brought by the scenes of snow forest, transcendent music and the warmth of the car, as her boyfriend S. was driving them through the town of Bjelovar.
She turned around. K. is still sleeping, visibly stoned. S. drives, his mind almost blank. “You just enjoy your new car.” she thought, with a smile on her face. But no, it can’t be…
As she writes this, she carefully observes perfectly symmetrical sunray that leaves beautifully illuminated triangle on this shadow-covered paper as it arises from the Sun, she is still thinking about how perfectly identical the image of her reality was to her dream, which was not of a pleasant nature.
They were driving within dimmed dusk, through the only road along great fields and woods. Only one house on the side of the road. They stopped next to the enormous four-storey house, covered in pine and walnuts scents. A thin, dark dressed man invited them in. The room was a decorated cottage of some sort. “Come on in” a dark dressed hunter suggested politely. Natural materials were dominating, just like the eyes of dead animals, hanging in the wall of the proud hunter. On the table, there were welcome drinks that needed to be drunk in their area, out of courtesy. We knew what that meant: Alcohol after nature. “Glad I am not the one driving.” Thinks the T.girl.All four of them sat behind the wooden table, next to the fire, and every once in awhile briefly glimpsing at each other. This sure was not planned. They sunk into the conversation. The atmosphere was warm and welcoming. Suddenly, a woman appeared. Black-haired. A mother? Wife? Blinking, I closed my eyes. Once I opened them, on the second try I saw the two of them intoxicated and tied up. My people. “Who are they exactly?” I asked myself unconsciously. The Black dressed Hunter and his Black Dame stood next to the fire, discerning us calmly in the silence. “Is this the way I go, just like in the dream?”I thought to myself. I keep silent and look at them. Their eyes beam and are so goddamn calm. “I have to do something. They cannot notice I am moving. Damnit, can I even master this?”I thought. The rope was rough, tight and shape. The rope around her hands tightened firmly. Her eyes… Equally beaming. A combination of petrify and adrenaline. With shaky movements of her wrist, she manages to pull out the silver pocket knife from her black jeans and starts to open it. She drops it. Luckily her hand was bent under her right hand, that the sound disappeared when the knife touched it. Heavy, cold sweat drops sail down her pale forehead and the neck.She is looking at them straight in the eye. With her right-hand fingers widely open she managed to grab onto the knife again. She starts twisting it and cuts the thick rope around her wrists. “It would be a smart idea to gain their trust and sympathy, and de-concentrate their rigid eyes from me. “ T.thinks. She starts talking to them. They even answered. She portrayed understanding and rest while separating the rope from her wrists. The Black Dame seemed to like T. She even offered her to have a sit at the round table in front of them, where the hot tea has been served, at the very moment when T. managed to drop the last piece of rope. “They cannot see”...As she stood up from the corner of the room, her knee gave up for a brief second from the forced rest. She walks up to the chamomile scented round table and sits with her hands still behind her back. The Black Dame sits across from her and looks at the Hunter as he sits down. Dim. heavy words in the air, just bathing in the chamomile steam. The air slowly reaches the top of their heads, S.and K. are awake. Their shadows have become heavy. Suddenly, T. notices three injections., carefully placed on the bench at the side.
She is invaded with blurry pictures before her eyes. Smiling, she sends a meaningful glimpse towards the two of them. Her smile insensibly starts to disappear as she reaches for the two injections and thrusts them. “The neck, chest. Good.” She thinks. The Black Dame and the Hunter grab each other's hands. The Hunter reaches for the massive black candelabrum with three red, blazing candles, in hopes of thrusting it into her head or chest, but the girl managed to close the front door and protect herself. Not in time though…”Aaagh!” Her leg is a mix of red blood, candle wax and bruising from the candelabrum. As she opens the door she sees the Hunter laying on the doorstep and the Dame at this feet. They all run to the road, in hopes that someone might hear them. It is still daylight. There are tourists walking along the only road, and T. notices them as she screams for help, hoping it is not in vain, because... She is stabbed as well. Her mind is blank.
The cold wind chased them. “It was just a dream.” she thought as she walked through the pitch silence with S. and K. to the only house on the road with massive square walls. From her mouth, the black silhouette vanishes before her eyes in the misty shroud...
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