The Follower

Oliver burst open the door to his apartment with excessive force, the swiftness with which he shut and locked the door would never betray the fear he felt inside but the four-letter profanities spilling from his lips as if a broken record did. He threw his backpack onto the table knocking off two ceramic cups standing there. With one hand still on the door handle, he swiftly reached for a container on a shelf mounted beside him and began fixing the line of salt that the swing of the door had broken.

This salt line slithered like a snake along all the walls of the apartment and just like the snake Uroboros, it consumed its own tail to form a never-ending loop. The ritual of maintaining the unbroken line of salt along the perimeter of the walls was sacred to Oliver as he believed it is a barrier that keeps away ghosts, demons and other evil. Not all of them unfortunately but still that’s what he believed as his mother did and her mother before her.

Raising his hand to the forehead he wiped the sweat that was trying to escape his body as much as he was trying to escape the situation he found himself in. Next Oliver rushed to the bathroom to wash his face, he stopped in front of a mirror looking at his reflection, self-hatred made him wince. He proceeded to wash his face and quench his thirst at the same time, few scarlet drops mixed with the water fell on the ceramic decorating it with ruby specs. Oliver looked at the blood and then himself in the mirror as if trying to ask if it was his own or not. The face in the mirror looking back at him was unwelcoming and was looking worse every day. Eyes bloodshot with grey circles surrounding them, the beard was growing wildly and his hair was longer than he is comfortable with. His appearance reminded people of a poorly maintained alcoholic, truth is Oliver never was one and stayed away from alcohol, but today he could use a deep glass of good whiskey to calm his shaking hands. Oliver took one last look at himself, shivered and looked away, he hated mirrors due to past experiences and paranoia that his reflection won’t mimic his movements or that he will see someone else in the room with him.

Days like this happened often, too often, reminding him of groundhog day, Oliver kept running back to his apartment with fear, fear of something catching him off guard or fear of being seen what he was doing. In his profession leading a solitary life was better off for everyone for various safety reasons, unfortunately, extended loneliness deteriorates one’s mental health and it was hard to tell if Olivers was still there. To keep partially sane Oliver called his friend on the weekends to chat, report on the week, ask for advice, comfort and most often used har as a private shrink. Today was a good day to call and after 4 ringtones, the phone was answered with a crackling static and then a voice that was warm and soft like velvet, equally alluring as comforting with a slight accent that can’t be pinned to any country.

“Hello Oliver, are you alright?” the voice asked.

“Lucy, it’s nice to finally hear you” answered Oliver.

“You are the one who decided to call only once a week, every day I’m worried if you will come back alive.” Said Lucy with evident worry in her voice.

“I get by, few more bruises and scratches but alive, hunted 2 this week so I have enough for rent, might even be enough for electricity.” replied Oliver.

“Oli, why do you keep doing this? How long do you think you can hunt monster demons or whatever it is you do before it gets out of hand and you end up the one that’s killed.” pleaded Lucy

“Oli.. it sounds… Nicer from your lips. There are too many of them walking the street and I have to follow my family tradition, you know that. And about what you said, something is getting out of hand, don’t know what but something follows me around. I can feel its presence when going out, its eyes on me, home I’m safe but it haunts me in the dreams.”

“You always end up in bad situations don’t you, I think it’s your special power” she laughed, “Tell me more what’s going on and about the dreams”.

“Hope you got time and somewhere comfortable to sit that nice butt.” Oliver said grinning to the phone

“Do you remember that place where we signed up for the experiments with the mirrors, the one you’ve read about led by Dr Kaputo and you insisted on trying it. The one where we stared at the mirrors in dim lighting and our reflections started deforming. Oli asked

“Yeah, I remember that it was like an acid trip without any acid, my face started to melt in front of me, then it was changing shapes growing in disturbing ways, it was creepy as shit. Yet for some reason we never really talked about it.” confirmed Lucy.

Oliver decided to tell his view of the events that happened back then and what might have caused what is happening now and Lucy like a good friend decided to listen without interruptions.

“It was just like you said for me too, it was so disturbing I snapped out of it a few times and had to start over again, that’s why I had to stay longer to complete the experiment. With each attempt, the hallucination got progressively worse, more disturbing, at one point I even saw horns growing out of my skull. Again I lost focus and had to restart and this time it was completely different, I didn’t see myself anymore, I saw my parents looking back at me, my deceased parents. Of course, that snapped me out of it right away, I was shocked. As you can imagine I wanted to see them again, it’s been years since I last saw them, who knows maybe I could talk to them, maybe it’s not just my imagination playing tricks. And like an idiot I fell for this trick, whatever it was, I tried, again and again, I saw them in that damn mirror, no longer smiling at me, no longer smiling at all. Their faces contorted in agony that I have never seen and no child wants to ever see on their parents. Flames licked their faces until they blistered, then charcoaled until black and pink chunks of cheeks began to fall off. I tried to snap out of it, I screamed, kicked and howled but nothing helped. Then I heard laughter, more like cackling from those burned bodies which began to turn into an unfamiliar face, next the experiment attendees and staff also started laughing. I lost it and ran out kicking down all the doors on the way and tried to forget it all.” Oliver exhaled with distinct pain in his voice.

“Oli… I.. I don’t know what to say, I’m sorry you experienced that” she tried to comfort him. “But what has that to do with what’s going on now”?

“First of all I have a slight phobia of mirrors, and that unfamiliar face I saw at the end, I’ve seen it again, 3 weeks ago in the crowd, 2 weeks ago in the bus just staring at me, today on my street. I thought i’m imagining it, or I confused that face with a random stranger because I forgot about it. Then he started laughing, that spine-shivering cackle brought back all the memories in detail. Whatever it is, it started to follow me and now knows where I live. Now I have nightmares, bad ones that turn into false awakenings and lately I’m experiencing sleep paralysis every night.” Oli explained with a slight tremble in his voice and Lucy couldn’t guess if he is scared or unsure how to continue so she took the opportunity to speak.

“Listen Oli, it all sounds dreadful and I’m sorry it’s happening to you, I want to help you but I don’t know how, you never let me in that close. I know you see a lot of weird shit in your outings, but at least don’t let sleep paralysis get to you. I know it is horrible, I experienced it too, you wake up paralysed in the middle of the night unable to make a sound and you see a dark figure walking towards you. It sits down on your body and you feel the weight of it as it stares right into your eyes and all you can do is wait and look. What I’m saying is that it’s just your imagination, your brain hallucinates as your body wakes up before your brain exits the dream state.”

“That stranger was also a hallucination and now he is following me Lucy” Oliver interrupted.

“Oli stop, that path of thinking scares me, that would mean somebody actually was in my room” she said

“I don’t want to but you should know, I recorded myself sleeping. Each night, each night it’s the same thing. The bedroom door opens slowly, on its own..” Oliver hesitates. “When it opens fully the screen goes static for an hour only to come back in focus when the door begins to close.” Fear is evident in his voice now. “I am watching a video from last night now…”

If he could see Lucy at that moment he would see tears flowing down her cheeks, she was about to make a comment about his revelation but her words were halted in her throat by a sound she heard in the phone’s speaker. It was low quality and volume, indicating it was the recording Oliver was watching. The sound she heard was laughter, it was odd, not happy but sinister. She realized it must have been the thing Oliver was talking about, she was about to say something but the phone line went dead all of a sudden.

Oliver was frozen when he listened to the recording, so much so that in the first moment he didn’t notice the power outage in his building. Maybe because he was so petrified or maybe because even when the lights went out, the computer turned black and the landline silent, the laughing continued to be audible. Oliver’s grasp of what is happening came with equal amounts of terror, trying to hold it together he realized that the sound is too quiet to be in the room, with unease he approached the window and from the third storey he saw the source of that haunting laughter. This thing was standing there with a hood over its head and a grin wider than humanly possible, in one hand it was playing with a lighter while the other was mockingly waving at Oliver. The eyes were difficult to see from afar but he knew it was looking straight at him and it sent shivers down his spine. The creature took a step forward then another and Oliver instantly tripped over his feet as he was trying to get away from the window faster than he could. Scrambling in the dark he grabbed a torch from the drawers in the desk that supported his old computer. Next he rushed to the bedroom and from his nightstand he pulled out a pistol, Oliver had no idea what he was dealing with but it was worth a shot.

He could hear all the neighbours in the apartment block coming out into the hallway asking in confusion if anyone has power, without much thinking he went outside as well telling everyone to get back inside. He would have been ignored if not the outline of a gun in his hand, the hallway was empty again with just Oliver and a growing sound of laughs and giggles. Oliver crouched beside his door, aimed the gun at the stairway and waited as the sound of twisted joy grew with the footsteps. The stairway was slowly illuminated by a dancing flame that made the light and shadows sway in their danse macabre. Oliver heard a few screams and quick shutting of the doors on the second floor, this meant he wasn’t the only one who could see him. The footsteps turned rapid up the last set of stairs causing the flame to cast unnatural shadows on the wall. Once Oliver saw the flame at his level, running towards him he gripped the gun tightly and fired. The gunshot in a quiet hallway defend him for a moment, but it also did something else, the flash from the gun illuminated his target. To his shock, it wasn’t the creepy face that was haunting him but the equally shocked face of a little girl he sometimes saw in the building. She stopped, dropped a candle she was holding and collapsed beside it, the blood oozing from the wound quickly extinguished the candle. Then that laughing got ever louder and more maniacal as the second flame entered the corridor.

Oliver was so frozen in disbelief he didn’t look away from the girl in front of him, not even when a raspy voice greeted him.

“Isn’t that a beautiful sight Oli? You did a good job, she only suffered for a minute or two, she is gone now. And I will feast on her delicious soul” the thing said.

“Oh, I should say thank you even, you see Oli I sustain myself by devouring souls, and the young ones taste the best, exquisite actually. The thing is, I’m not able to kill, so I orchestrate events such as this in my favour. I won’t bore you with the details now, it might be too complicated for you but I will tell you this. You will be arrested for a murder of a child, the police after searching your apartment and seeing all the occult crap you have they will decide you are mentally unstable, rightly so I might add, and will lock you in a mental institute where I will have you all to myself where, how shall I put it, I will season you before a good meal. See you soon Oliver.” the thing hissed into his ear before vanishing into the dark.


I wrote the post ‘Tabula Rasa’ when I won the battle with depression and I was happy. War resides in me but I remain unyielding. On a loosing battlefield one of the few remaining, tripping over the cadavers mixed with the mud I feel the same. Yet for some reason I keep getting up, neglecting the pain, exhaustion, struggle, I take a step after step just to fall, crawl and get up again.

Hope is the mother of the fools, maybe, but hope dies last and hope is inside me. Hope for better days hopes for the inner calm. And I might be the child of biggest foolishness but I will take on whatever is thrown at me, take every blow and wound with just a flinch as there is not much they can do to me. I have died before, had my heart stabbed and ripped, my mind crushed and poisoned, my guts torn and spilled, faith shattered, my flame snuffed out, then I was snuffed out. For reasons I don’t understand still get up come back to life without a clear purpose, mended by strangers and those around, my scars are plentiful some you can see and for some, you have to close your eyes to see.

Tabula Rasa, a beautiful symbol, to start from new do things right and the way you wanted, but a new start does not always come when you wanted and not on your terms. Nobody talks about the darker side of the new starts of hod hard and painful it can be. When after a decade of stability a storm comes and everything you knew shatters and everything you had is torn away from you and when you desperately try to hold on to your last piece of happiness you need to give it up because the world doesn’t allow it what do you do then? How do you not die inside again? how do you remain stable?

Right now I’m laying between the brothers in arms looking at the red sky, most of them are gone, maybe in direction of my gaze or where my mind is. My fist clenched, I know I will be getting up again, I don’t want to but by now it’s autonomous, my feet will carry me forth but what else will follow them?

I have hate, anger and blame for many people, I am among them too. I no longer care who I upset or hurt, I need to embrace my darkness and focus on me because you can’t make everyone happy and I was always trying to do that only hurting myself in the process. But don’t worry I have enough decency to not wash my laundry in public and will not say who did what. You need keys to open me up which I rarely give out and you know it, so throw yours away because I changed the locks.

I Would like to thank one person for stopping the dry spell and motivating me to write, which might be repetitive by now but she is inspiring and I wish I could be as good as her. She might be small in size but if mind and personality had a physical form she wouldn’t fit in any room so she goes around the world and opens up peoples minds whether in person or online. And I admit I was certain your post won’t do anything but here we are as it contents pulled from sleep to the keyboard. So thank you Apple for the support in the past and your recent musings.

Stars in the night

The weight we carry on our shoulders brings us to the ground.

Yet bravely we look up in the sky, waiting for the shroud of night.

I am angry at the world and its injustice, yet your voice like a call of sirens calms the sea of emotions.

At the same time, you shake up my private world with excitement.

Our scars like puzzles fit together glued by empathy.

A single confession can flood the eyes of multiple people.

High above the solid ground, we walk on the line hoping not to fall.

So close yet impossible distance apart we play our pre-written parts.

After many talks between venus and mars, I noticed the stars shine brighter when reflecting your eyes.


Tearing, like pages of a notebook filled with secrets not meant for eyes of others.

Audible scream of pages rending the soul, it’s blood imperceptible to the human eye, to your eye.

Hands covered in scarlet ink, miasm of a downfall.

Staining the surroundings evermore to a point where only your private world is filled with clues.

Invisibly visible dystopia triggered by every contention.

A touch of ice no longer grabs attention, indifference masking the eyes of emotion.

Seeking happiness in fleeting moments is indeed fleeting when quicksands take their time.

So let’s grab some tape and restore the broken poems of happiness into one book again.

Lost Soul (part7)

Apologies for the delay in writing this part, I’m finally here and ready to shake up your previous stories a little.

Parts 123456


The three of us entered the compound, it looked almost like a bunker. In fact, it was fairly similar to the nuclear bunker that my parents showed me videos of that they had to spend few years there when they were young. Yet this one was old abandoned I can’t imagine it housing more than 20 people. Luna held my hand and with Roman gave me a tour of the place to which I paid no attention. All this time my mouth was ajar in surprise so long I haven’t noticed I am parched, my eyes watery and a kaleidoscope of emotions rushed through me at exhausting speed. I might have not seen Luna in 10 years yet she still could feel my emotions as if she was my twin. She told me to sit and offered water which I gulped down faster than desert sand. Flashbacks of the past made me dizzy, I wondered how we ended up separate, why we haven’t met sooner it was ten fucking years. Who is Amruth and if he can still read my mind from a distance? Although it was of least importance at the moment I still wondered If my best friend Luna is in a relationship with my childhood crush.

I regained my composure and started thinking clearly, clearer than ever which was a strange feeling for me Luna interrupted my thoughts “It’s a local plant we add to water, we don’t know what it is but it makes your mind a lot sharper, I’m sure you feel it by now” I just nodded. “Agnes, aren’t you going to say anything? Are you not happy to see us?” asked Roman entering the room again.

“I..I..I am happy, sorry, I’m still in shock, I thought I will never see you again, I was almost killed and then you came. Aliens…friends…code, you mentioned a code to help you return, It’s incomplete I have another page let’s try to combine them and get out of this horrible place. The thing is I just can’t read it” I replied accelerating with each word. “Incomplete? another page? how do you know that? never mind, Show me the page this is mine an let’s have a look” Roman said with excitement and reached for the code to lay out on the table. As he did that my stomach acted like a ball in the pinball machine, the code that Roman presented was completely different from the page I had.

Romans face expression saddened yet his eyes sparked up. “Ahh this brings back some memories although I don’t think it’s part of the code.” he sighed. “What are you talking about? what memories?” was my next question. “You really can’t read it? Don’t you remember when we were little? Your grandfather loved all kinds of encryptions and thought them to us. He always left such notes for us to decode with instructions how to find a hidden stash of sweets our parents don’t know about, how could you forget that?” explained Roman. “I think I start to remember, yes, notes and sweets, yet I don’t remember any encryptions, can you read it?” I asked eagerly “Give me few minutes”

While roman studied the note I caught up a little with Luna, she even brought materials left over in this place that turned out to be sheets of cloth. Without hesitation, I took one and wrapped it around me like a toga to eliminate the constant cold. “I will find you some better clothes later” Luna said. Roman came back to us now with 2 sheets of paper and a thin piece of charcoal he used to write with.

“Fitting outfit Agnes. I decoded the note, it is just like the ones from our childhood, look. The face under the text is the iconic Julius Caesar, we learned about him in school. There are also roman numerals on it, this indicates it is a Caesars cipher, To solve it you need to arrange the alphabet in a circle, that numeral is your key which is 7, now take every single letter and substitute it with a letter 7 positions further. Here is the translation.” explained Roman giving me another page.

i am human. i am here for thirteen years trying to make
contact with my family. i have shelter food
technology and knowledge. even found a typing machine.
if you are still sane i would like to meet and work
together. there is a way out. in two days i will leave a
trail of red stones to meet at down i mean no harm. ha la
lau are learning our language thus the code.

I have read it and almost fainted, that plant sure makes your mind sharper because I now found dots that could be connected I wish I have seen before. I started to backtrack the events to find odd things. Amruth, he could not read the note because it was a code and not English, he was nice to me since he hoped I will teach him. The next part scared me, his throat it was clearly visible and blue the man who grabbed me in front of my shelter and told me to be quiet had a long beard, that man spoke aloud, only now I realized that Amruth only used telepathy. Was the bearded man trying to hide us from Amruth? did he use his shaman skills to make me not notice the switch of the person who led me away? The codemaker is here for 13 years. Thirteen years ago I was told my grandfather died in an accident, then there are the last words of my mother before I woke up here, ‘Find your gra…’

Are all these things be connected? could my grandfather be here somewhere? or is it just apophenia?





Here is a quote I came across that struck home and think everyone should read, especially when you struggle to make time for the things you want the most:

“And despite this inexorable fight, promise me you will never lose faith in yourself, that you’ll never cease from walking, for there’s no need to run.” -A.R

Broken Retrospective

It was a day just like any other, or night? No, it was definitely an evening I am sure of that. I was having a barbecue with my girl in the back garden of the house. After some food and a beer, the mellow music in the background swayed us to spill the memories of the past. We reminiscing about collective moments and things we never told each other, the time flew by and the calm night sky was covered by a warm blanket of stars which of some fell to their doom leaving a trail for the swift eyes to follow. Gazing the tiny shimmers took us what felt like an eternity, yet an eternity you are willing to endure just for the few precious moments. More time passed and now the warm blankets were covering our bodies as well.

Before we realized we couldn’t think of more wishes for every star that has fallen so we were repeating the wishes by now, not that it matters as I always have one wish every time I see a shooting star. Then we noticed one of the shooting stars burn brighter and growing larger, clearly it was heading directly our way.

“What is that?” asked my girlfriend.

“I don’t know, an asteroid” I laughed.

“Don’t say that, wait, is it green?” she replied

“What the hell? it is glowing green, why is it not burning out yet?”

“Wish I knew, shit it hurts my eyes, I’ll try to take a picture” she quickly exclaimed with audible pain in her voice, she turned her head to locate her phone, and then something happened that she was lucky to miss.

The green light from the orb pulsed a bit brighter than it already was, this thing pulsed and I went numb, no, not numb, paralysed. Next was the pain, deep and sharp as if someone pushed a dozen of drills into my head at the same time. I was sitting there as if on a chair of tortures and yet the whole world around me was oblivious to my pain. The green light pulsed again and a sound came that startled my already freaked out mind. Imagine if some kind of hellish machine could roar and put that on full blast in your ears and you should be close to what I heard. Then the pain for a split second intensified even more just to immediately ease up. To my surprise, my memories started emerging and flashing in front of me.

I remembered talking to my friend Greg at work last week, he said ‘Just get it done so we can go home’. I saw parents holding hands, children playing in the schoolyard, my only friend in school grabbing me from behind ‘Where were you!’. I saw clips of documentaries I watched, animals, technology, wars, movies, extracts from books. I saw my friend Lucy saying ‘Yes!’ after I asked her to go to prom with me.

Why am I remembering it all? what is going on why can’t I fucking move? Another roar, the pain rose and so did the speed of flashing memories. Is that green thing going through my memories?

Lucy ‘Yes!’, what the f… I don’t know if I forced my mind or voice to push out ‘Hello can you talk?’ what am I doing I thought, it’s just a light. Roar and my teacher saying ‘Hello‘ to class then Lucy ‘Yes!’. I froze even though I seemed to be in some kind of limbo already. What do you want? was the next question I produced in my mind but there was no voice in my head now, I just felt immense hunger despite I just ate, or is that what this intruder of my mind is feeling. ‘Are you hungry?’ I thought, Lucy ‘Yes!’ ‘

‘What do you eat?’ it was a rapid fire of images, lightning strikes, volcanos exploding, atomic bombs going off, various projectiles hitting the target. Then another roar and more images, stars imploding, planets whithering like plants, strange fires and explosions, but I have never seen these thing meaning these must be the memories of the orb. I was screaming in my head ‘Leave me the fuck alone!’ but I was only struck by a swift ‘NO!‘ of my mother when she scolded me as a child. ‘What do you want from me?’ I knew it want’s energy and lots of it but I didn’t know what I have to do with it, I just saw a map then a compass and video a plant sprouting to life thanks to the sun. Shit the sun, is that what it wants? but would it no see it coming here? I could only hope this thing didn’t catch that thought but I was wrong. A vision of the sun burning right in front of me was presented, then my mother but with Lucys voice saying ‘YES!’

Not knowing what it is I took a gamble and presumed it has completely missed our sun so I asked ‘How do you travel’ then I saw tens of planets we don’t learn about in school, one planet than a blink and another then blink and another. Thus I presumed it just teleports. The exploding surface of the sun and my friend ‘Where?’ Stop I am not gonna tell you shouting in my thoughts. ‘Where?!’ it kept repeating it over and over but then the voiced and faces started to mix it was my mother, teacher, friends all asking where in the same demanding tone. I resisted as much as I could not to think of the solar system and that’s when it stopped asking the single question and the drilling pain came back like a kick to the face. Flashes of school classes and tv documentaries until a clear layout of our solar system was in front of me and the pain stopped and one last memory surfaced that was equally painful of whom which I forgot about until now, it was my father saying ‘You are a pathetic fool.’

The green orb shot off and the pain subsided, I let out a gasp of exhaustion and pain. My girlfriend finally grabbed the camera and turned back to where the light was.

“Wha.. where is it? I only turned for two seconds. And why are you so pale all of a sudden?”

My memories and will are broken, I remember my past but the places and faces are all wrong, twisted. I remeber talking with my mother at work last week and my friend scolding me when I was a child, but I know he is younger than me damn it. Yet what’s worse I am worried that this night might be the longest the earth has seen and that it might be my fault too.

. .

My cabin

If you are looking for some self-distance I have a house on the hill, high on the mountains inside a dense forest. Dead oak beside it which leaves you can only see in the water reflection of the pond below. Falling leaves turn into koi that disperse into star dust whenever the water surface is disrupted. Looking through the flying dust you can see the trees real image. Never all of it as the tree although dead never dies enough to produce sufficient koi. Legend has it that if you catch the ethereal koi without disrupting the water it will grant you a wish. And if you catch a falling leaf before it hits the reflection you will see a mockery of your future that will alter your life in a way only known to you. Behind the house is a garden, as always, as in any story, a garden, and in that garden a fountain. From the fountain runs crystal water that at midnight turns into poetry, words flow from it forming poems and sonnets that will inspire any witness. Some say that during the day the water is just like Odin’s mead of poetry and not the bad one if you know what I mean. The garden itself is flourishing and enticing but don’t be fooled, it consists only of beautiful but deadly members of the nightshade family. To find the fountain you need to push the stunning angel trumpets out of your way to find it surrounded by wolfsbane. I wonder if that’s why there are so many bones outside my premises. Step inside my small log cabin and you will enter a room bigger than you have ever seen. Inside that room a bal is taking place, a masquerade, never ending bacchanal. Every guest is wearing a mask and so must you if you wish to participate. The wall on your left is full of masks of animals and monstrous things similar, but choose wisely as you will become whatever you chosen for the night. After you decide what to wear a man in a tuxedo with a fox head will approach you offering a drink. Refuse the offer politely or the night will end immediately, if you decide to talk to him you will see he is not wearing a mask at all. Step between the guest and you will be swept away by the music that fills the room, music that is played by instruments yet nobody around them. You will dance tirelessly feeling only joy, you will dance until the sound of the obsidian clock fill the room striking midnight. The fox headed man will find you again to offer only once a chance to return home without any consequences. The night just started so what will be your choice? If you stay the mask will start to change you to whatever avatar you have chosen. While that happens you will be struck by a vision, a perfectly clear vision of your future, I only hope you come to peace with what you saw because after that night, try as hard as you mighty, you can not change what you have seen. The party will then resume to a different tune and the cheerful laughter will be replaced by howls, growls squeeks and quacks. Do you regret your choice? Will you be safe or fall prey to those who can’t control their emotions? At dawn you will be human again without the memory of transformation but one aspect of the avatars behaviour from night before. At the door I will just wish you a pleasant day and you will pay no mind to my presence throughout the whole stay. It will not be said, but you will know it’s time to leave, yet if you wish I will let you linger for a chance with the koi fish. Will you keep the mask? If you do it will let you remember this place and return. Were you smart enough to not drink from the fountain? If not I just hope you make it past the gate before you drop dead. I guess the tree might have saved you if were smart.

Hello readers, I am curious what were the first things that came to mind when you were reading. What was the first mask in your mind before you found out you will become it and your life could depend on it? Did you take the drink? Have you kept the mask? And will you make it out alive? Alas will you return? You don’t have to comment the answers but I would appreciate it.

Express 95

It was beginning of the year 1995 when this particular train arrived at the platform. Knowing I don’t have another choice I crawled inside the wagon and it instantly moved off. The first few years of the journey passed me in a blink of an eye, astonished by the speed I began to worry the ride will end soon but the train prevailed through all.

Once I learned how to walk I was able to look out the window and see the world for the first time. Frightened be the size of it I just stared and soaked in all that I could. When I comprehended the language, that’s when I met the driver of this strange machine. He told me that now we are able to make stops, and while the train stops I am to leave and make memories before we go any further.

And so I did, equipped with a camera, notepad and voice recorder I left the train each time it stopped. Trying to remember as much as my little mind could, I made pictures of my parent’s faces and recorded their laughter, made my first sketches of the land and learned how to write. At the end of each day or sometimes just a moment, I boarded the train again, storing all the memories away in the next carriage.

The driver talked to me again, he said the memories are what fuels the machine and it is what will allow me to grow, therefore for the indefinite amount of time this train will run I should make as many as I can. I was stopping more and more often since, remembering faces, voices, songs, images, smells and feelings. Making a note of them all I gathered them all, first candy first bike first fish caught. First laugh, first tear and first scream all recorded in some shape or form sitting in the rear wagon.

Fleeting moments caught in time filled the wagons, not all were happy, nobody is ever truly happy there were also first fights and first bruises, first streaks of blood and a collection of scars I can’t store away, only carry them.

This Express 95 keeps rolling through life, through the sun and rain and through the snow and pain. People board it to sit with me for a moment and then leave. Seeing places pass by and not a single one is the same even when returned to. After a decade I left the mainland looping tracks few times on an island. Two decades later the rain still goes strong on the uneven surface, we make less stops now but each more significant, each new memory will fuel the train for years to come.

After 23 years we are moving forward gaining speed and adding other carriages. The newest wagon, it is always engulfed by a semi-shadow, in there I will take some of my old memories and repaint them with my new thousand words.


Slowly getting back to writing here, I have a lot of ideas for new posts it is just the matter of finding time without distractions to write them.

Stars in your eyes.

Sadly I admit we have lost the exact count of stars and seasons we passed.

I haven’t believed in love from the first sight, but then you came out and something strange happened.

I looked into your heterochromatic eyes and I saw the whole universe in your pupil, It was so beautiful.

By far the clearest feeling I had, but so confusing too, my heart and time stopped, eternity trapped in the single second.

As if everything that could be known was a single lesson,  I’m guessing words is not an adequate set of tools to explain it.

Our bodies disappeared and there was no rules, every moment, star formed and explosion was contained in the iris of this girl standing before me.

And at that moment we both became gods because from an eye to eye we created our world.

Next, we built our boat and set sail through the stormy oceans standing firm, even when the water got the best of us and we fell in the other one waited until we are both back in.

Roaming for years we lost hope of safe land after we saw the angels fall from the skies, but you just took their broken wings and thought me how to fly.

Yet I regret you can’t see that every time you sing, your voice heals my broken soul.

But, now I know for certain it doesn’t matter if I’m on the ground, in the water or air, You will always be there.


No matter what I do in life I’m only half there when you’re not.

Destination Reached

Parts: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10


The mirror had to be destroyed, but not yet not while we are here.

“Agatha is everything ready?”

“Yes Mit.”

“And Ann?”

“She was taken care of her while you made the connection, she is with her partner now.”

“Great, now my favourite part..” “Mit!” Agatha interrupted.

“Are you sure it’s a smart thing to do? I know it’s game for you but one day it will bite you back in the ass.”

“I guess you are right, but we used them so much they deserve to know, they need to know what they did.” said Mithra.

Now ladies and gentlemen lets cut the crap and I will explain something, especially to my authors. Yes, you there reading it, I love breaking the ‘fourth wall’ especially when the bricks hit the audience. Confused? Let me explain. We used you, it’s what we like to do me and my sister. The dream you have read about, you all had it and don’t remember it. My sister has a special ability, she found you and visited your dreams for days, implanting ideas, giving instructions. The flames that consume her in the dream actually consume your memory of what happened.

We gathered the six of you randomly, yet you formed a strong group. You can’t remember yet but you all came together to Oslo, following the visions. You found the house and barged into it. I don’t own the house no, it belonged to Ann, her husband James and their daughter. The Man of the house naturally stood to defend his family from the 6 strangers so you killed him, then tortured and killed Ann. Funny enough the whole six of your brains refused to take in what you did to their 5-year-old daughter. What is funnier to me is that all of you thought you are writing fiction out of your own will, you couldn’t be more wrong. What you wrote was a statement of your actions that the police will be very interested in. I had to control your minds fooling you to think it is just another story you wrote.

It was not easy with the 6 of you, Lucas resisted the most that’s why there was so much craziness in his part, Amanda was close to figuring out how to starjump. Did any of you recently felt time missing? remorse, regret or sadness? maybe relief from letting the anger out? that would be your subconscious mind going over what you all did. Your group murdered an innocent family and tried to burn the house down, tried since Lloyd’s old Zippo wasn’t so trusty after all.

If you are wondering why I wouldn’t be the main suspect just think who is more likely responsible, a man who can’t be found and starjumps or a group of people who describe the crime scene and try to blame it on a fictional character? Both police and I know that adding more fiction won’t make it less real.

Don’t be angry or disappointed, if the mirror remains intact you can still figure it out.

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