Darkness surrounded him, paralyzing Rene's thoughts completely. He ran, driven by an ominous voice echoing in his ear, lurking for his soul around the bend of the nightmarish street of the living dead of his own existence. He was powerless, alone, and his only ally in this endless moment was fear.
Kneeling in the thicket of his dark visions, Rene prayed for peace for his own soul, which restlessly clung to him, looking into his eyes, wanting to say: goodbye!
This night was cruel. The falling rain ruthlessly wiped the last of his optimistic images from his gaze, and the wind blew them away into the nothingness of life. A profound emptiness fell upon Rene's mind. His helplessness had completely burned away any hope of survival in this morbid world, and a mysterious voice emanating from the dark recesses of some unknown civilization was slowly self-destructing within him, driving his already wounded thoughts to madness. Yet he continued on, in streams of tearful moments, possessed by the nightmarish message of human suppression. He made his way through misty marshes, where flowers of lost human hope grew, swaying toward him time and again, as if irritated by his presence there, trying to steer him back on the right path, aware of the impending danger. However, the shadow of the young man, reflected by the full moonlight on the thick, marshy waters, wandered on his journey, frightened by the unearthly howl that filled the trackless skyways. The night grew increasingly clear, filled with the vibrant colors of the gleaming moon, which, dancing on the altar of space, smiled proudly at the vastness of the earthly world.
Rene, fleeing the lost moments that sought to invade his mind, lingering somewhere in the darkness of enchanted landscapes born from future glimpses of existence, glimpsed a blurred image in the distance, taking on increasingly distinct shapes with each passing second. A figure, firmly rooted in the muddy soil, breathing the cool breeze of lost moments, stood motionless, its hidden gaze searching for the approaching newcomer, who, devoid of any instinct, waded, shrouded in the madness of his own thoughts, toward an unknown, strange figure, shrouded in the shadows of the swampy darkness.
Rene, traversing dense marshes, stepped onto land that was losing its own weight and sinking, overwhelmed by a mysterious cry emanating from the depths of the land's darkness. He, accompanied by his intimidating gaze, journeyed toward an unknown being. She, releasing words from her own consciousness that would thorn any mortal who would open their hearts to them, beckoned Rene with her gaze. Approaching her and discovering her proximity, he cried out in terror, seeing something that tore from his mind the dreamlike roots of his wanderings amidst his own suffering. A moment later, with a cry of his own memory, he opened his eyes, waking from his sleep.
Nightmarish visions in his dream repeated themselves regularly, every night, which nestled in the sweet whisper of the moon, escaping somewhere in the distant recesses of the human mind.
Rene awoke from the terror of the passing night. Imbued with a mysterious vision that kept him awake at night, he was unable to exist and enter the normalcy of each hour that filled his days shrouded in the grayness of life. Yet he rose from his bed to begin another day. A day full of unknown moments awaiting his arrival. He himself knew not what purpose he might have in existing amidst the recesses of his own world. He lived in the moment and nourished himself within it, waiting for the next second that would give him the strength to survive in the desolate wilderness of life.
Rene's inner voice hummed the melody of loneliness and rejection by a society that, clogged with visions of decaying debauchery, had erased his words once written in the shared book of humanity.
After another nightmarish night, he took a long time to recover. His mind still painted images from the other side of reality, from which a voice emerged, seeking to penetrate Rene's soul to the world on the other side of the time horizon.
Outside the window, a thick morning fog stretched. The wind, trying to fight its powerful force, was held back and shackled by the grayness of each waking moment. Only the trees whispered to each other tales of ancient times, the shadows of their branches suffocating the particles of the misty texture spread across the landscape of the coming day.
Rene left the house. He wanted to find himself amidst the depths of human weakness. He wanted to be felt, even if only a little, at the foot of the great world of wisdom's heads. He thought that perhaps on this day he would finally encounter the thought that would be the icon of his existence. Amidst the converging misty images, he saw the specter of his own terror, peering out from the hidden corners of life, awakening within him another devastating thought to inhabit his consciousness.
René felt ill and cursed fate, summoning him to a duel before the gateway that opened to a universe of nostalgia, flowing with tears of melancholy. Despite this, he felt a strange satisfaction in the fact that the gloomy atmosphere around him concealed his ugliness and every imperfection visible in the sober glow of the living world. Under the veil of mist, he felt at ease, wandering among the streets frozen in stillness, waiting for the imprint of human feet.
With each inexorable moment that pushed the morning image into the abyss of oblivion, the misty world shrouding René's ugly sight became increasingly submissive to the sunlight. The rays danced with joy, beginning to dominate the heavy, dark shell, which was fading into oblivion with its fading power. A transcendent thought appeared in Rene's mind, bouncing against the door of his consciousness. It vehemently contradicted the theory of its rival, who inhabited his subconscious and spoke of fragments of hope shrouded in Rene's future existence.
The sun was already firmly in control, illuminating and awakening the future moments of this world. For Rene, this time was a tragedy he had to live with and contend with every day. He sought the least populated places possible amid the stench of civilization around him. He longed for rest, somewhere far from the mocking laughter of humanity, the hypocrisy, and his own four walls, which captivated him with their stagnation and daily compassion. He walked through an avenue hidden among the inspiring trees, where, with his dull gaze, closed in by idle thoughts, he noticed two people resting on a bench amid the happy moments of their carefree life. It was a young boy and an equally young girl, probably declaring their love for each other, enjoying every moment spent together. Rene's gaze fell on the pair of lovers, who, reveling in their shared happiness, filled these beautiful moments with radiant smiles and inspired kisses. The sweetness emanating from them seeped into Rene's core, stirring jealousy within him and simultaneously stirring remorse for the hungry feelings buried deep within. Hiding behind the old oak tree that graced this park avenue, he finally emerged from its shadow, which obscured his ugly, world-weary, and simultaneously sick face. Driven by a longing for a real, normal life and the sight of people in love, he longed to feel, even for a moment, like them. He dreamed of true love and longed to taste it again. He approached them blindly, thinking he could instill within himself at least a fragment of its echo, one that would preserve a shred of his dying sense of humanity.
Rene slowly crept toward the couple, oblivious to the possibility that someone would notice his imperfections and flee in terror. Walking through a vast clearing, surrounded by ancient oak trees that held the ancient secrets of this region, he felt a warm breeze that evoked old memories from his life of wandering. The memories painted before his eyes wonderful images of a distant, forgotten bliss, once climbing to the summit of a romantic moment, spreading a laughing happiness. Hypnotized, he continued walking toward the couple, who, upon seeing the figure approaching, screamed in terror, as if their worst nightmare had emerged from their dreams. The children leaped from their nest and ran as fast as they could, retreating in the throes of a moment gone by, gasping for breath in their sobriety.
Rene looked terrible. His face was covered with a strange substance resembling poorly healing wounds, from which a stream of internal impurities leaked. The viscous fluid, which periodically flowed down his indecipherable features, congealed, creating a habitat for vermin that devoured the remnants of healthy flesh from deep within his body, not to mention the rot that covered most of his skin. He wore a jockey cap, already very worn, discolored in places with the dark red of congealed blood, obscuring its already illegible blue color. Only his clothing masked the appearance of his illness. He wore no footwear, and flaking fragments of his dead skin landed limply on the fresh, vibrant patches of green clearing still covered with morning dew. Holding the fear and terror of the two young people in his grasp, his thoughts drifted into his own dreams, where he screamed similarly at the sight of a mysterious figure stalking him through the dark, inscrutable mysteries of the real world, shrouded in the spell of nonexistence. In the faces of these terrified children, he saw his own image. It was the image of a man dying of fear, who had glimpsed something terrifying on his path.
As the day wore on and the grayness of evening rapidly approached, Rene knew that another nightmare awaited him. This time, it wouldn't be the fear of constant flight along the paths of the real world, but as dusk fell, another dream would nestle in his consciousness, forcing the soul of the suffering and dying traveler to flee once again, this time into the depths of a dark dream.
The victim of fate sat on a bench nearby, overlooking the sound of a swaying stream flowing deep into the evening landscapes slowly settling into sleep. The leper's eyes were filled with a silvery liquid flowing from his soul. Carefully dripping onto his distorted face, it briefly refreshed the half-dead skin, instantly absorbing it, irrevocably taking away a fragment of the feeling of a bygone age.
He himself could not reconcile himself to his fate, aware that death was waiting just around the corner, inevitably approaching. With his last breath, his inner self still demanded social acceptance and lamented the lack of true emotion that would fill his heart and then beat with a smile until its final moments.
Rene decided to spend that night away from home. He was afraid to return to the empty walls, which radiated eternal coldness and sadness, and staring at their nameless image every day, he feared the successive seconds that would then vanish into the crowd of oblivion. He was afraid to fall asleep. Once again, he promised himself to remain in the grip of insomnia, content with waking sadness, escaping in the irony of his disability from the nightmare forged in the dream world of dark visions.
Night was already closing in on the altars of mystery. Her magical image awakened the dull voices dwelling in the dark corners of her imagination. And the shapes, cloaked in darkness and born from human everyday life, instilled terror with each passing moment.
Rene dragged himself along, following the ruthless fate of his existence, heading deep into the nocturnal recesses of the existing world. He was very tired of this wandering, and upon reaching a desolate area far beyond the city, he decided to rest and sit down at the foot of a vast forest. At night, it was difficult to encounter anyone, and few dared to venture there after dark. The area he occupied was several kilometers from his hometown, covered by a dense, forbidding forest, stretching far to the east, surrounding nearby villages.
For Rene, it no longer mattered where in this hideous world he found himself. He knew his days were numbered, and the indifference to the reality surrounding him was growing terrifyingly intense.
What was a man rejected by society to do? What was a leper to do, knowing he was dying in this wretched world? What was he supposed to fight for at the end of his tether? These questions swirled in his mind, giving him no peace. Even as the mounting depression consumed him at a surprising pace, his thoughts were elsewhere.
Somewhere in the distance, he glimpsed a dark, deep tunnel, filled with the echoes of shattered hearts and unfulfilled hopes, calling him to his world, where he would find answers to the questions mercilessly tearing at his mind. He rose, contrite, staring intently at the place he longed to reach. He pushed through the thickets, his gaze fixed on the object that seemed to be growing ever closer. Fueled by hope, he pushed forward stubbornly, extending his hand in greeting to the hidden truth resting on the throne of human tyranny somewhere beyond the twists and turns of the dark expanses.
As he approached his destination, he was already gripped by a terrifying hypnosis that painted visions before his eyes. A sick smile spread across his face as he glimpsed a woman in a beautiful snow-white gown emerging from the tunnel to greet him. Her angelic hair nestled blissfully into the vibrant landscape surrounding the woman, who with a joyful gesture invited the leper inside.
Rene was already close to his destination. He greeted his savior with dreams, thanking fate for cleansing him of the stigma of damnation. However, just a step away from the mysterious figure, the image in his eyes distorted, stirring a sense of unease within him. Wrapped in a dazzling whiteness, the apparition receded toward the horizon of the abyss, disappearing into the darkness. A moment later, an ominous scream echoed over the forest, then hung motionless, devastating the minds of every living creature nearby. Only after a while did Rene awaken from his lethargy and feel an unpleasant cold mercilessly permeate him. The nightmarish vision faded into the darkness, vanishing without a trace. The hope that had nestled in his heart erupted somewhere in the abyss of oblivion. Rene found himself in the unknown reaches of the forest world. Darkness reigned all around, and a growing sense of sadness and nostalgia was palpable. He felt as if some local force was trying to invade his inner world, furiously knocking on its doors. Rene ran forward, seeking refuge from an invisible and alien force. He tore through the dense forest, having no idea where he was going. He wanted to escape as quickly as possible from this place, which emanated an ominous shiver and a strange fear, driving its prey ever deeper into the ever more intricate and inscrutable recesses of this land. Exhausted by this pointless flight, he fell to his knees, exhausted, drawing his last breath, desperately begging the entire world for mercy. He uttered a voice, but it was very faint and quickly faded away amidst the swirling cries of despair. Of these, only one gained strength. Its echo rocked the numb branches of the trees, penetrating their interiors, awakening landscapes of eternal loneliness and sowing seeds of sadness around their roots.
Rene was aware enough to recognize this increasingly resonant voice. This voice, emerging from the netherworld of human consciousness, was once again trying to capture his soul, to become even more powerful and to reign undisputedly among the horizons of humanity.
The ground on which he lay sluggishly grew increasingly sodden, gurgling in Rene's ear as he, terrified, struggled to extricate himself from this increasingly thick, marshy muck. Traversing these inaccessible terrains, he discovered within himself the thought of imminent destruction, and his extreme exhaustion only confirmed his awareness that he was nearing the end of his journey. This thought sapped the last vestige of strength that held him by a thin thread of hope above the abyss of perdition.
Rene was sinking into the thick swamp. He clung to the old, withering tree with his last remaining strength, but his hands were already failing, sliding down the rotten trunk of the dead tree. Exhausted by the hardships of battling the ruthless elements, the man surrendered, drowning in the thick ooze that engulfed Rene's body deep within his world. Only his hand remained afloat, hopelessly seeking help.
As the kingdom of vanished hope opened its gates, awaiting the arrival of another lost soul, weary from wandering through the constant crippling of its existence, someone stood over its decline, banishing the fate that awaited at the end of the path leading to the cemetery of finality. A mysterious figure appeared where Rene was drowning.
Dressed from head to toe in a dark habit that concealed its identity, the figure identified itself with the dark landscape, merging with it into a single entity, drawing only the outlines of its own posture against the surrounding darkness. The creature stood motionless in the swampy mud, which was growing with each passing moment, slowly flooding the area. With a violent movement, the figure grabbed the drowning martyr's hand, pulling him to the surface. Rene was stunned and, for a moment, didn't know what had happened. He breathed heavily, spitting out the remnants of the muddy sludge. His vision distorted the reality around him. In doing so, it distorted the figure that held him fast, preventing another fall into the depths of the swampy shell. Minutes passed, and Rene recovered. His vision began to piece together the images, but what he saw filled him with unease. He stood before a mysterious figure whose face was hidden beneath a deep hood, revealing only darkness and the reflection of the strange man's blank gaze. Rene couldn't utter a word. Another paralysis was mercilessly eating him from within. Suddenly, to his surprise, the waters began to recede. A strong wind rose, driving them to the depths of their hiding place, and the trees began to move in a strange dance, bending low to the drying soil.
The figure released Rene, who fell to the still-damp ground, still absorbing the last remnants of the thick slime. A thought formed in his mind, recalling old visions from his dreams, making him realize that the hooded creature was a nightmare haunting him every night in his dream world. Fear permeated his dark horizons, so deeply that each thought that emerged from his consciousness faded amidst the terrifying horizons of suffering visible all around.
Rene stared at the figure standing motionless before him. After a moment, it numbly raised its hands, placing them on its head, which was covered by a massive hood. Rene was so surprised when the figure removed the dark hood, revealing the face of his tormentor. At this sight, Rene screamed in terror. He saw his own reflection before him. He saw in it everything he desired, everything he dreamed of, and everything that was receding from him, treading the earth of unreality. Then he spoke to himself with a voice of warning, atonement for the deeds of the past. Suffocating his personality before his other face, he awoke in the middle of the night with a panicked cry.
"What happened, honey?" a concerned Susan asked her husband.
"Nothing, it was just a bad dream."
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