Prologue
On a moonlit day in May, I find myself immersed in the sterile corridors of a hospital desolated by time and cruelty, where my heart echoes a symphony of agony, on the verge of tearing my throat apart, while Krzysztof Penderecki's somber symphony resounds in my ears, conducting my anguish.
My blood drips from my broken leg after jumping from the second floor, from your room's window, as scarce as a thread of life, leaving an invisible trail on the floor, traces of an existence condemned to oblivion.
Around me, only mutilated, tortured, violated corpses... He reaped lives, spread terror...
In my dress, tinged with a faded Royal blue, stains of a cruel fate intertwine on the torn edges, silent witnesses of a desolate world, where each piece of fabric is a reliquary of shattered memories.
I feel his presence, as elusive as the shadow that surrounds me, an implacable specter that pursues me without respite. He is there, in the darkness that envelops me, watching, waiting for the right moment to engulf me in a whirlpool of physical and mental torture.
With each faltering step, I wonder if death will finally embrace me in its cold mantle. Is running until the last spark of life extinguishes the only way to reunite with my parents? Is this the price to pay for redemption? Is this the only salvation left?
No!
There is no hope, only the incessant running, as on so many other days. I don't know what else to do. There has been no future since that demon emerged from the abyss. He reaped the lives of everyone, or almost everyone... He destroyed everything, my, our world, in a single day.
He crushed them, the men, those who claimed to protect the world with their arms, he dominated them like dogs, used them like puppets, brought them to ruin like worms.
And when I turn the corner, I find him, succumbing to exhaustion, I fall to my knees, scraping them on the floor. I see his red overcoat, tinged with a blood-red wine, alive, and in his empty gaze, he looks at me with satisfaction, holding a woman's head in his hand. He found another one, then, that's why I got so far!
It was obvious, and at the same time distressing, why, of all he killed, did he leave only me alive?
On his victim's face was the expression of horror that everyone has when encountering him. The spinal cord was still attached; he must have had a hard time this time. Normally, he rips it out carelessly, but not this time, the poor girl must have felt her neck being dismembered from the rest of her body.
That damned one must have loved the sound the body made when it was torn apart and the blood that spread from it.
It's distressing to think about...
Overcome by nervousness, I hear a groan escape his mouth, as if all the corpses he devoured were groaning their echoes of fear and agony. And in the depth, I heard the fresh blood dripping in front of me.
— Are you not tired? I already warned you, Arielle. There is no escape from your torment! — His voice is like the roar of a lion, breaking the morbid calm, bringing terror. I feel a shiver every time I hear it; his long black hair, like the pitch of the darkest night, falls over his cadaverous face, and then, releasing it, the head drops at his feet.
And it scares me, it was like seeing a tomato smashing against the ground, her brains spreading, splattering on my face, forcing me to close my eyes and open them right after.
When I open them, he stares at me, as always, and advances. His dark leather shoes are tinged with blood; a putrid smell emanates from his being. Three or four steps ahead, he is in front of me and strikes me like an animal. I feel his cold hand hit me, loaded with so much contempt that it is almost palpable. And I continue to stare at him from above, my blood running to my lips, its metallic taste filling my mouth, while my tears unravel, falling to my knees.
It is the feeling of exhaustion, of my being. I can't take this anymore, I can't stand living anymore! And the worst is not suffering, but suffering without knowing if I will die or not. It's believing that I will be here forever, at the mercy of his desires...
Living in a world where everyone is already dead, is this the punishment I deserve for having fallen into sin? Is this hell? These are the only questions I still have, or that I can still ask...