The Empty Mirror
Chapter 3: Withered blood
However, just as I was immersed in this recapitulation, a disturbing interruption came in the form of creeping footsteps approaching.
How could this be possible? There is no one else occupying this space, apart from myself; could it be another hallucination playing with my perception? Undoubtedly, this hypothesis stands out as the most plausible.
But before I had time to react properly, there was a knock at the door. A female voice, full of trembling, asked from the other side: "Hello? Strangely, that voice seemed to evoke the young woman from my earlier dreams, although I sensed a different nuance in her tone, which I found unsettling.
Unable to articulate a response to my surprise, I opted for silence. The person on the other side of the door attempted to peek inside, opening it slightly, and perceiving nothing out of the ordinary, ventured timidly in.
I stood motionless in the corner of the room, watching carefully and waiting for the next sway. The situation was becoming more and more enigmatic and unsettling, yet I was compelled to remain calm and proceed with caution. Who could this person be and what could be his intentions? And, above all, how had he managed to get here? A latent premonition told me that the answers would soon be revealed.
And then, with a firm and determined step, the enigmatic figure crossed the threshold of the door, entering the room completely…
At the entrance, fully immersing...
Or rather, delving into a melodrama?
She, a blooming dawn rose, delicate and proud,
Oh yes, a delicate rose, how original!
Her snowy strands gracefully fluttering in the wind,
Adorn her black eyes, gleaming stars,
Gleaming stars! I'm about to faint with excitement.
Nose and lips traced by a divine brush.
Divine brush... they probably sell that paint at the bazaar.
Her dress, a dance of black and white,
Someone call the ballet dancers!
In a swirl of contrasts and nuances,
A whirlwind of colors for our enraptured eyes.
Outlining her figure in shadows and profiles,
I love it when shadows create portraits, how ingenious!
Her shoes, subtle in their sound.
Watch out for those heels, you'll wake everyone up.
Even if her attire is rags,
Oh yes, those luxurious high-fashion rags!
They radiate her grace and elegance,
Like the sun on the horizon of blushes,
Does anyone know if blushes are in fashion this year?
Her cheerful, restless, and joyful demeanor,
I wonder what funny joke she just heard.
She radiates an inexhaustible inner strength.
Inner strength! She must be friends with the Jedi.
Her presence is a poem in motion,
Oh yes, this poem is moving so much that I might get dizzy.
A corporeal and profound work of art,
Enchanting with its sweetness and beauty,
Enchant, sweetness, beauty... it seems someone abused the thesaurus.
Inspiring us to find our own light.
Of course, why not!
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My head throbs with a painful, tangled affliction... I am in an unknown place, enveloped in an ominous, lurking gloom. Every fibre of my being is lacerated, as if I have been subjected to a macabre ordeal. With an effort, I rise and take a few faltering steps, yet my legs refuse to obey me, trembling incessantly. A shiver snakes down my spine, as fear takes deep root in my being.
I prostrate myself on my knees on the icy ground, overwhelmed by an insurmountable hopelessness. The furrows of tears emanate from my eyes, nourishing the grief that grips my being.... For what reason? My figure contorts as I cling to my own person, feeling abandoned in the midst of abysmal blackness. Fear consumes me to such an extent that I succumb completely.
I remain immersed in the depths of this overwhelming abyss, struggling to restore my serenity and find some glimmer of lucidity in this abode of unspeakable horrors. After a few interminable minutes, with the impetus of a dazzling resolve, I opt to take a viable tenacity. I erect myself, still trembling, but with an unshakable firmness, ready to face the unknowable.
Memory fades into the recesses of my mind, like a thick, sinister mist. I cannot recall my true identity, not even the faces of those who bore me... Disorientation looms overwhelmingly over me, plunging me into a vortex of uncertainty.
Yet in the midst of this primordial chaos, one word manages to insinuate itself into the recesses of my consciousness: "Giselle". Its meaning escapes my comprehension, but it resonates within me with an unwavering force. That name, devoid of tangible evidence, stands as the only unquestionable truth in this intricate labyrinth of shadows.
I am Giselle... In the shadows that envelop me, that is the only thing I can say with certainty, as I traverse the abysses of amnesia and strive to unravel the mysteries that hide my true self.
My vision falls on the image reflected in a nearby puddle, somewhat muddy, barely perceptible. My eyes meet the reflection of silver hair, an anomaly that defies rationality. I have never witnessed such a phenomenon before, except in the elderly in their final twilight... However, I am not an old man, I know that with absolute clarity.
Although this drastic transformation overwhelms me with awe, I cannot allow it to obstruct my path. Defying the limits of understanding, I will pursue my path without hesitation.
Scanning my attire, a distinguished dress, in black, boasts an elegance that slips into decadence, with intricate details such as lace and ruffles, yet its present state betrays signs of wear and tear that defy primeval opulence. However, its present state betrays signs of wear and tear that defy primal opulence, in every thread, I make out rips, scattered all over its face. Was I the victim of misfortune? The questioning takes possession of my thoughts, although I am aware that this is not the right moment to unravel the veiled enigmas. My appearance lies dishevelled, my hair in disarray, my dress in tatters, mute witnesses of an impenetrable history.
Moreover, my dermis bears tiny lacerations, abrasions that reveal themselves to the naked eye and leave their mark on my being. Although not serious, they add a tinge of violence to my condition. However, these minor wounds will not be enough to slow me down. With unwavering resolve, I will continue on my path.
In the aftermath of the preceding events, I was compelled to scrutinise my surroundings closely, expanding my attention beyond the limits of my being. Night was hovering over the landscape, enveloping it in its dark and mysterious cloak. To discern the exact hour that accompanied me, I turned my eyes towards the moon, my guide in the shady depths.
I beheld its gibbous crescent phase, a languid gleam illuminating the firmament from its celestial throne in the east, yet it had not yet reached its zenithal apogee. With reverence and a hint of trepidation, I immersed myself in the contemplation of that nocturnal radiance, which seemed to hold indecipherable secrets beneath its silvery glow.
In spite of the nimbus that covered the firmament, the moon managed to project its glow, transgressing with some skill the dark veil that hovered over me. The horizon was illuminated by a faint clarity, just enough to discern the nuances within the scope of my vision.
I am not a learned scholar in this discipline, but using this reference, I deduced that the celestial clock pointed to a time zone between 2 and 4 a.m. Although my estimate lacked absolute precision, it implied a discernible change in the nocturnal distortion that enveloped me.
My steps hurried with haste, as the imposing moon poured its faint glow over my head. Although its brightness did not reach its dazzling intensity and the gloom persisted, I clung to this glimmer of illumination. I consoled myself by conjecturing about the most dire possible scenarios: a moon hidden entirely behind celestial shadows or a night sky permeated with dense, oppressive darkness.
As I walked on, I clutched at my own arms and chest, trying to fight the cold that was creeping deep inside me. This icy wasteland was an unforgiving realm, where the wind intoned its perpetual lament, whispering its inscrutable secrets in the ear of the helpless wanderer.
However, my keen sense of hearing picked up more than the terrifying echo of my own footsteps. In the undergrowth, I could make out stealthy rustling and the scuffle of tiny paws in the surrounding blackness. They were the rats, creatures that crept and crawled in the shadows, carrying an unsettling presence.
But also, a macabre chorus of crickets accompanied my footsteps, their mournful chirping coiled around me. Though those sounds seemed to carry a deceptive melody, they emanated a melancholy and loneliness that resonated deep within me. They reminded me of my own vulnerability, my helplessness in an unknown world, where every step became an uncertain challenge.
As I progressed, the minute details of the surroundings took on an eerie relevance. I was enveloped by a tangle of birch trees, majestic giants whose twisted forms hinted at unfathomable secrets. Though their trunks bent in defeat, they exuded an enigmatic aura that stood out against their unique hues.
The leaves were predominantly yellow in hue, but there were also some that still retained a lingering green, as well as others tinged with an autumnal orange or a veiled brown, albeit to a lesser extent. Each leaf revealed a hidden story, an ephemeral tale in its fleetingness, giving the landscape a mixture of nostalgia and mystery.
The scattered leaves rustled beneath my feet, whispering sinister murmurs that tinged the air with an inscrutable helplessness. With every step I took, the certainty of autumn came over me, whispers of decay and death creeping through the shadows like veils themselves. The forest unfolded before my eyes, revealing elm trees with their withered leaves and birch trees whose reddish hues resembled drops of blood spilled in the abysmal darkness.
My longing to explore and unravel the secrets of the flora of the place was hampered by an enigma: the dim light barely allowed me to make out the details hidden among the twisted branches, those mysteries that awaited in the depths of their vegetal essence. However, the overriding need to stay alert and avoid deadly mistakes prevented me from pursuing this tempting task, plunging into the unknown depths that lurked in every corner of the enigmatic forest.
The absence of animal life was unmistakable, a desolation that stretched across the horizon. I could barely glimpse the fleeting presence of elusive rats, squirrels, and I could even have sworn I caught the subtle image of a mole, though its form faded into the folds of the gloom.
Yet there was no trace of majestic creatures, no rustle of feathers or roar to break the prevailing sepulchral silence. An uneasy feeling came over me as I moved forward, my feet treading on a slightly undulating terrain with rocky surfaces that seemed to exhale pleas in my passing.
Every step I took took me further and further away from the supposed safety I once knew, inexorably moving me deeper into the maw of the unknown, into the abyss that loomed before me and devoured certainty with every beat of my heart.
A narrow path writhed beside me, like an insidious tongue whispering hidden temptations, but its obvious danger forced me to turn back. My muscles were beginning to ache from the sustained effort, but I could not afford to give in to fatigue.
I continued my advance, devotedly following the north star in the sinister firmament, a twinkling beacon in the midst of the unfathomable blackness that guided me into the depths of the unknown. From my earliest childhood, that star had been my unchanging compass, my unerring guide to keep me from getting lost in inhospitable and twisted lands, where horrors lurked behind every shadowy corner.
Thirst began to devour me with parsimony, a thirst fanned by inscrutable fatigue and the lack of springs in the desolation that enveloped me.... There were no rivers to caress me with their silver sparkles, no crystalline fountains to offer me the vital elixir I longed for. The only alternative was to search for porous stones that could yield their precious liquid or to wait in despair for the humidity of the air to give me a fleeting respite. However, the hostile conditions and threatening darkness deterred me from exploring such uncertain options. With each step I took, the thirst became more unbearable, a slow torture that threatened to sap my will, eroding my being to its very core.