With art by Giannis Milogiannis
What are those lights that keep falling in the distance? Ilse asked Ivan as they stood on his balcony. It was the beginning of January, and the sky was grey, but they were standing outside in their t-shirts because of how unseasonably warm it was.
Ivan was not sure if he liked it. He leaned on the metal railing with his arms folded and looked at the sky beyond. There he saw glowing white orbs with faint wisps of white trailing after, nearly all of them heading down towards the river. First they shot into the sky and then they fell. They fell but they did not make a sound when they landed. Sometimes they seemed to land near the suburban neighbourhood that had been under construction for the past year, or near the forest of black trees beyond it, but even then they did not make a sound. That’s strange, Ivan said. They’re flares but I can’t hear them.
Ilse said Maybe they’re bombs or UFOs or souls that can’t make it into Heaven.
Ivan shrugged. He said You know, there was an earthquake in my dream last night. I was talking with you on my computer and then everything started shaking, and I looked out my window to see the balcony slide to the right. Everything I typed came out in stutters but you didn’t seem to notice. There wasn’t an earthquake wherever you were.
Ilse said I wonder what could’ve happened to you to make you dream that. Maybe something fell on your bed.
Ivan looked down and watched as a child ran through the slush that had built up against the curbs in the parking lot. The child was wearing a winter coat. Ivan shook his head and said No, nothing fell on my bed.
So what are you doing tonight?
You mean when you leave? Ryan is coming over.
To play videogames.
Ivan shrugged. It’s not often that I get to hang out with my friends. I’d let you stay over otherwise.
He then looked at Ilse. She had blonde hair and pink lips and was wearing a black shirt and jeans. If she were an article of clothing then she would go with everything.
Ilse looked at Ivan and smiled. It was a smile that said I hope you have fun and meant it.
She slid open the balcony’s glass door and went inside; Ivan watched her bottom as she moved, entranced by the way her jeans moved around her. He liked the subtle folds in her shirt, the ones that occurred naturally around her waist – her clothes were so basic and simple that they became achingly sensual when she wore them. He wondered what she would look like completely naked. But he imagined that if she was naked then he would probably be naked too, and he was worried about how grotesque he would appear: he was far skinnier than she was, his ribs neatly visible in the right lighting, and he was never sure of which body parts he should shave.
So she could not stay over. He turned back to the sky and thought about her; he thought about all of the different ways that he could kiss her. Inside she was going to the bathroom or pouring a drink or making a sandwich but he was thinking about kissing her.
There was a loud splash. Down below he spotted a girl in a yellow jacket walking a dog, a St. Bernard big enough that he could probably strap a saddle on its back and ride it. He wondered if the dog had its own room. He had never even heard of such a large dog living in an apartment before.
Ivan then felt Ilse standing behind him so he turned around to see her standing in the balcony doorway, holding glasses filled with red liquid. She said I thought you might be thirsty.
He said Come over here and look at this dog.
Ilse looked at him, slightly puzzled but with a subtle smile on her face. She said Let’s sit inside and have a drink.
He wondered why they could not just look at the dog while drinking their drinks. It was the biggest dog he had ever seen. He told her so. He said Come over here and look at this dog; it’s the biggest dog I’ve ever seen. You could put a saddle on it and ride it wherever you wanted to.
I don’t want to go back out there.
Ivan felt a chill. He said What’s wrong? But she only shook her head.
Ivan said Tell me what’s wrong, Ilse.
She said The lights are still falling. I want to know why they’re falling.
He said We’ll look it up on the internet.
Ilse was holding the drinks in both of her hands and the condensation was running over her fingers. If she was thirsty then she would have taken a sip. The drinks were only there to lure him inside. Ivan went to her and lifted her hand and kissed the condensation from her fingers. The taste was both bitter and salty.
She said I’m scared.
He said But you’re an adult now. Adults don’t get scared.
She said That shows you how much you know about being an adult.
We’ll look it up on the internet. He kissed her lips. They went inside.
The feeling that comes with anticipating a friend’s arrival was Ivan’s favourite form of anxiety.
Ryan called to say he was downstairs. He said it in an amused voice, but that was because he was amused by everything around him. He took people seriously but not situations. Ivan said I’m sorry but you can’t come up; you’re not allowed here anymore, and then he pressed 9 and hung up the receiver.
He looked around the apartment: dimly lit by the vestibule light, devoid of Ilse and dampened by the greying sky outside, he wondered how much fun could possibly happen here. A light crackling of static came from beside him and he looked to see that he had not hung up the phone correctly. He picked up the receiver and held it to his ear so he could listen to the lobby, seeing if he could hear anyone moving around. It was a minor and entirely random voyeuristic pleasure that never yielded any particularly interesting results, and this time was no exception: if there was anyone down there, people unaware that they were being listened to, he could not hear them; all he heard was polite static, the usual crackle and hiss.
Soon there was a knock at the door and Ivan said Come in, it’s unlocked, but nobody entered. He said it more loudly but he was still not loud enough. He went to the door and opened it and there was Ryan with a light in his eyes and a smile that was very much amused. He said This is going to be a Thing.
What kind of a Thing is this going to be?
A Thing! Ryan exclaimed, holding up his index finger. He then chuckled and began shrugging out of his jacket while Ivan closed the door. Ryan was always overdressed no matter how warm it was; he never even took off his toque unless he was in someone’s home, which bothered Ivan to no end when they went out to movie theatres and restaurants together.
After freeing himself of the jacket and toque and throwing them into a corner, Ryan sat himself down on Ivan’s burgundy couch and went through his canvas messenger bag. He pulled out a dvd of a 70s science fiction movie and tossed it on the coffee table; on the cover was a painting depicting a blonde woman with a ray gun on a dark red planet with a dark red sky. She was wearing more clothes on her arms and legs than anywhere else on her body, and her few clothes were golden except for her collar, which was black. A purple, puffy, salivating head was gazing at her from the upper-right corner of the cover.
So we’re watching Kitty Kat’s Run? Ivan asked.
Uh, yeah.
What is it? I mean, is it sexploitation? Low budget space opera? I’m guessing both.
It’s cheese, Ryan said, gesticulating stiffly. It is what it is. Then he chuckled again.
Put it on and I’ll get some juice. Ivan went into the kitchen as Ryan placed the disc in the game console, the one that acted as his dvd player. When Ivan came back with two wine glasses filled with pomegranate juice he found Ryan fiddling around with the dvd menu using the game console’s controller.
Did you beat it? Ivan asked. He held for laughter but Ryan was too focused on the dvd. Is that the last boss? Shoot the sound options; I think that’s the weak spot.
Eventually Ryan chuckled. He was the only person Ivan knew who would actually chuckle.
Do we want surround? Ryan asked.
Why is that even a question?
They turned off the lights, sank into the couch and watched the movie from the opening striptease to the scene where Kitty Kat inexplicably undresses in an icy cave. When Kitty Kat began undressing Ivan said You’re about to become a man, Ryan. That was when the phone rang.
Ivan groaned, paused the movie and got up off the couch. He went over to the phone while Kitty Kat stood frozen on the screen beside him.
Hello.
He heard nothing but the same crackly static he heard from the lobby.
Hello?
He pressed the receiver close to his face and gazed into nothing as he focused on the sounds. There had to be somebody there if he could hear static. He covered the bottom part of the receiver with his hand and looked at Ryan. He said There’s somebody downstairs.
Who?
I don’t know; it’s somebody. There’s nobody talking.
Just hang up.
Ivan turned to the screen and looked at Kitty Kat. He looked at Kitty Kat’s nearly nude body as he listened to the static and then he heard something like a light wind on the line, a low whistling or whisper. The sound was punctuated by quick gaps of silence. Some whispers were short and some were long. Then the caller hung up. He wondered how somebody could hang up from downstairs when there was no way to hang up from downstairs.
That’s odd, he said as he replaced the receiver.
Ryan said Was it a ghost call? Maybe a telemarketer got cold feet.
Ivan shook his head and looked at Ryan. Ryan’s face had a blue glow to it.
No, it was from downstairs for sure. I know what the lobby sounds like.
That’s some kind of poetry to know what a soundless place sounds like.
Ivan shrugged. He sank back into the couch and pressed the start button. Kitty Kat unfroze, undressed and, suddenly realising how cold she must be, put on an entirely random fur she found from behind the mound of ice behind her. Robotic penguins appeared on screen and began firing lasers at her.
Ryan chuckled and called it the greatest movie ever. They watched the mayhem unfold a while longer, gazing on with great humour as Kitty Kat raced down sewers until she inexplicably found herself exiting into a desert, and then Ivan found himself thirsty again. He asked Ryan if he wanted to be topped off and Ryan said Sure.
Ivan left the movie running as he picked up their glasses and headed into the kitchen. He set the glasses on the counter and placed his hand on the refrigerator door but then something caught his attention, a quick movement just in the peripheral of his vision. His mouth went even drier than before and he swallowed and then he slowly turned his head.
There was a figure sitting in the chair at the far end of the dining room table. The figure was entirely black and barely seemed to be there, but Ivan knew it was. The only light bleeding into the kitchen and the dining room was that of the tv, quick flashes of colour that obscured most of what he saw; all of the shadows were amorphous and Ivan could barely move because of how scared he was, how unsure he was of what he saw. But his hairs were standing on end so something had to be there. He could not move a muscle.
Ivan wanted to say something but then something else caught his attention, a falling light glimpsed past his blue translucent drapes. Another light followed it. Ivan trained his eyes on the lights for a few moments and then forced himself to look at the figure again, but as soon as he did so Ryan came into the dining room, a smile on his face. He said You missed the flying sphinx head.
Ryan, do you see that?
What?
Look. In the chair.
The figure was still there, its body subtly wavering. The figure seemed to be made up entirely of shadows. Ryan was looking at it, too. He said What is that?
I don’t know what it is. Do something.
I—
Do something. Come on.
Uh, okay. Ryan walked towards the figure and looked at it while Ivan watched the both of them. After a moment’s hesitation, Ryan reached out his hand and went to touch the figure, but at the exact moment that his hand seemed to touch the figure he was knocked down, his chin hitting the linoleum floor. A muffled swear leaked out of his clenched teeth.
Ivan took a step back because the figure was suddenly standing in front of the table and steadily moving towards him. It moved towards Ivan and Ivan screamed; he continued stepping backwards and opened the refrigerator door, holding it in front of him like a protective shield as he crouched down and covered his head with his free hand.
After about a minute of this Ivan became less tense because nothing was happening. He slowly raised his head until he was peering over the top of the refrigerator door. The figure was gone. Ryan was rolling back and forth on the dining room floor, clutching his jaw but not making a sound. The only sound in the apartment was that of triumphant synth music blasting from the movie, letting the audience know with some finality that the heroine had won.
Ryan?
Ryan swore again. Ivan stepped timidly into the dining room, looked all around and then crouched down by Ryan’s side. His friend groaned.
Ryan said Are you okay?
I think I’m okay. Are you okay?
I want to be okay.
A female voice with a light electronic filter over it said Congratulations, you have conquered Mars.
Congratulations, you have Conquered Mars, Ryan said as Ivan helped him up off the floor. He rubbed his chin and gazed into the living room, where the end credits were rolling up on the tv screen; the end credits consisted of yellow text on an orange background and hurt his eyes.
He said So.
Ivan said I don’t know. I don’t know what that was. Do you want some freshly-squeezed Fruitopia? My mouth is really dry.
Yeah, sure, pluck a carton from the tree.
Ivan poured them the glasses that he had originally promised. They stood sipping them in the dining room, the drapes now pulled back from the balcony door. The lights were still falling.
It was some kind of shadow, Ivan said.
Ryan did not say anything for a time and then he said I don’t know what those lights are. I saw them on my way here but I didn’t think anything of it.
I tried looking them up on the internet but only got results for UFOs. Ilse is scared of them. I wasn’t scared of them but now I don’t know.
I thought the shadow was going to kill you, Ivan.
I don’t know what’s going on. I’m going to call Ilse.
Yeah, call her. I’m just going to stand here and drink my juice.
Ivan returned to the phone in the living room, passing the tv screen which was now red. He picked up the receiver and dialled Ilse’s number and then pressed the receiver to the side of his face. There was nothing but silence. He set the receiver down, making absolutely sure he had hung up properly, and then he picked it up again and once more pressed it to his face. He could still hear nothing but silence. The phone was dead.
He looked at the red screen while holding the receiver to his face. He then looked from the red screen to Ryan. Ryan was still standing by the balcony door, holding his drink in both of his hands as he stared off into the night. Ivan hung up the phone, turned the light on in the living room and then turned off the game console and tv.
He said The phone is dead.
Better it than us.
Ivan went to his desk and turned his computer on. He said I’ll see if she’s online.
The computer booted up to a winter streetscape marked by red lamp posts and stray icons. Every time he looked at the photo he wondered where it had been taken; even after everything that had just happened to him he still wondered about it. He could feel the chill of winter and smell the smell of snow. He very nearly lost himself in the image but then his instant messenger loaded.
The instant messenger could not connect to the internet. He looked at the floor and saw that the connection lights were not flashing on his modem. He turned his computer off and then rejoined Ryan at the balcony door.
How do you think that shadow thing could’ve gotten in? Ryan asked.
I don’t know. I was here all day and didn’t hear anything. I guess I’ll lock the balcony door.
He did so and then Ryan set their glasses on the kitchen counter by the sink. Ryan said Is Ilse all right?
I don’t know. I can’t connect to the internet.
Ryan said I think we should go see her. We’ll all hang out together. How about that?
Ivan nodded. They left the dining room and put on their jackets and shoes. Even if it was still warm outside, Ivan wanted to wear his jacket, if only for the slight sense of protection it afforded. He patted his pockets to remind himself he had nothing in them and then he grabbed his wallet and keys. Ryan grabbed his copy of Kitty Kat’s Run, stuffed it into his bag and then slung the bag over his shoulder.
They looked over the apartment one last time and then opened the door.
Ivan said What a horrible night to have a curse.
The lights were dead on the right side of the hallway. Ryan noted that they were not dead when he had come up. Ivan said Let’s not look down there. He pressed the button for the elevator and it rattled up towards them.
Everything else was normal – the elevator was fine and the lobby was fine, and the lights were as dim and yellow as they had always been. In the lobby they walked past three paintings of tall chairs with hats hanging from them. The paintings had been there since Ivan had moved in but they had never really paid much attention to them. Now that all of the weirdness was happening, however, they took more notice of the paintings’ unique characteristics: the first chair had a single leg, the second had two and the third had three but only two were touching the ground.
Ryan said How are they balanced?
Ivan said It’s the hats. That’s the only thing I can think of, anyway. But then again I never really tried thinking too much about it.
That’s probably for the best.
Ahead of them was the glass partition that sectioned off the waiting room from the main lobby. Ivan had been somewhat expecting to see a persistent prankster or just about anyone else, really, trying to get in, but there was no trace of the caller from earlier. There was nothing but air.
I hope I feel safer out there than I do in here, Ivan said as he opened the partition door for Ryan. He forced himself not to look at the buzzer, for he felt that if he did he would see something like a bloody handprint on the keypad or the numbers scrambled on the digital display.
I guess you’re about to find out, Ryan said as he opened the last door for Ivan.
They were then outside. They could not see their breath despite it being January, and they still felt warm despite it being night. The apartment buildings circling the parking lot before them were spotted with stray lights of yellow and cars sometimes drove down the neighbouring avenue, making them feel less alone but no less scared.
Ivan looked at the parking lot and felt a sudden and unnerving jolt of recognition: Ilse’s car, parked, dark and facing them, devoid of its driver and completely misplaced. Ivan knew it was her car because of the license plate and the dice in the mirror.
Looks like your lady is still here, Ryan said.
Still here? She’s not here. Her car’s here but she isn’t here.
But her car’s here. Maybe she’s visiting someone? Who else does she know that lives around here?
You’re the closest.
Okay, so—
Something’s obviously messed up, Ryan.
Do you have the keys? Maybe she forgot her keys at your place. Maybe the car is dead. There are a lot of maybes here.
She would’ve called up if that was the case. Let’s go to her place anyway to see if she’s there, if she’s okay.
Okay. Should we call first?
My phone’s dead. We don’t have cell phones because we don’t like people who have cell phones. Except for Ilse. Do you have a quarter?
Ryan nodded and dug his hand into his pocket as they headed towards the variety store across the street, where the outline of a pay phone could be seen against the store’s darkened wall. They cut across a patch of grass that was wet with melted snow, and the liquid seeped into their shoes, dampening their socks and making them make faces of discomfort. Out of Ryan’s pocket popped a quarter and he flipped it into Ivan’s hand.
At the pay phone Ivan kick away discarded fast food cups that cluttered the entrance to the booth. He accidentally stepped on a needle but luckily it did not break. He picked up the receiver and put in the quarter and then put the receiver to his ear. Then he slammed the receiver into its holster so hard that it bounced right back out and hung lifeless by its metal cord.
Was she there? Ryan asked as Ivan exited the phone booth.
Ivan shook his head and jammed his hands in his pockets. Ryan entered the phone booth and tried to retrieve his quarter but it was stuck in the machine. When he came out he saw that Ivan was already heading in the vague direction of Ilse’s place, towards the incomplete, manufactured neighbourhood and the trees beyond. Even with the apartment buildings in the way they could see that the white lights were still falling.
It’s going to be a long walk, Ryan said.
Ivan said I don’t think she’s home. Something must’ve happened. Something’s messed up.
So where are you going? Do you think a shadow took her, like Yorda in Ico? Where are we going?
We’re going to go where the lights keep falling. I don’t know. We should probably stop somebody and get a hold of the police but I don’t know.
Okay. I want to find her too.
We’re going to the forest. That’s all I can think about.
For the most part they walked up the avenue in silence. Ilse was all Ivan could think about; he kept running improbable scenarios through his head involving her, such as Ilse being dragged to the forest by aliens wishing to inspect her, or being mugged and beaten by deformed teenagers or being sacrificed by brainwashed cultists. He wanted to find her and take her somewhere safe.
Hey, did I tell you that I slept in until two this afternoon? Ryan asked.
Ivan shook his head.
I wanted to keep sleeping because I was having this really cool dream, but like all cool dreams I only really remember one part of it. I was woken up by my mp3 player blasting heavy metal and that was the end of me. Anyway, the part of my dream I remember most – and I guess this isn’t as interesting without the rest for context, and . . . I guess dreams are only ever interesting to the people having them, but never mind. This seems relevant.
Tell me how it’s relevant.
Okay, so I’m there, I’m in this kind of strange, monstrously large and yellow house that seems to expand forever. I’m a child, and I’m standing looking up at a window with blinds that are kind of slanted, but are opened just enough for me to be able to look up and see through them. With me is a girl who is a lot older than me, but she feels like a sisterly friend, or maybe she really was my sister in the dream. I don’t actually have a sister. Anyway, she’s blonde and wearing a white dress; she’s almost angelic. I’m looking up through the blinds and I see this kind of personal office, with a desk and a computer and various books and papers stacked in places. There’s nobody there. The girl says to me that she’s been hearing something coming from the office, a kind of clicking sound. She says she can hear it even now. She asks me to try to hear it but I don’t really hear it. Then she bends down low and says she has a secret to tell me, something she has never told anyone else. She says she’s really proud of herself, or something like that, for knowing this. She asks me to look at the mouse – the computer mouse – and tell her what I see. I look at it very carefully. I’m not sure what I’m supposed to be looking at, but I remember her telling me about the clicking sound so I try really hard to focus on the mouse, since I know that mice click. This is when I realise that the mouse is slightly blurred, as if it’s in a constant state of movement, while everything else in the room is static. I realise she wants me to know that there’s a ghost in the room.
Ryan stopped talking. Ivan rubbed his face.
Do you believe in ghosts? Ivan asked.
Ryan said I don’t know. I believe in the shadow thing that was in your apartment, but I don’t know if it was a ghost. You?
I have a bad feeling that I’ll have an answer for you by the time this night is over.
They turned a corner. They walked through the unformed suburban neighbourhood, cutting across backyards filled with construction equipment, most of it wrapped loosely under blue tarps. Wind sometimes brought the tarps and trees to life, while the houses remained dark and dead. Despite Ryan’s presence, the lifeless neighbourhood made Ivan feel incredibly alone.
Ryan set his bag on the ground, climbed on top of a stack of wood, surveyed the area and then jumped back down. They tried climbing over a fence separating two backyards but the fence had barely been finished and broke under their weight. They both had splinters in the palms of their hands. They hoped that no one had seen them.
Ryan said Why does the moon always look so fake? Look at how fake that moon looks.
Ivan looked. The moon was a perfect circle and shone brightly. It looked like a 2d image that had been hung there. He said It tends to do that sometimes.
Man, I hope there aren’t any gangs around.
There aren’t any gangs around.
Past another house they reached one last backyard, ending in a short slope that met the forest. All of the trees were completely black and the forest appeared much denser than it did during the day.
Ryan rubbed his face, turned to Ivan and said What do you think?
Ivan said I think you need to shave.
Ryan pulled his hand away and looked at it. Then he rubbed his face again.
Without a word Ivan stepped to the slope and slid down. He caught a branch with his hand and steadied himself when the ground levelled out. He then blinked slowly over the forest, giving his eyes a chance to adjust to the unforgiving blackness, and felt around with his foot. His foot brushed something soft and said This is grass; it touched something hard and said This is a rock; and then it felt something long and gnarled and said This is a root.
When he turned to face Ryan his foot knocked away something that must have been an empty can. The sound of the can sent a chill up Ivan’s spine.
Find anything? Ryan asked as he stepped carefully down the hill.
Yeah, actually – I found a can, and unless it’s fairly old, it means at least one other person is here.
What kind of can?
Ivan bent down and felt around for it. His eyes were beginning to adjust but still he could not find it anywhere. He said It was a pop can or a beer can. That’s what it felt like.
Ryan said It’s probably nothing. Lead the way.
They hopped over broken branches, tripped over roots, stumbled into cobwebs and were scratched by phantom plants as they delved deep into the forest. The rhythmic inhales and exhales of their laboured breathing drowned out the incessant clicks and grinds of insects, and whenever they spoke it was in stilted phrases.
Ivan said I think . . . we need . . . to exercise . . . more . . . in case . . . this ever . . . happens . . . again.
Ryan said What? No. This is why we never exercise. Imagine having to go through this every day.
Ivan noticed that he could not see the falling lights through the dead branches of the trees. He wondered if the lights had ceased falling or if the trees really were so tall and dense that they could cover the sky.
A splash surprised him then as he was looking up and he realised that he had stepped into a stream; the gently-running water seeped into his shoe and quickly drenched his sock. He moved his foot back and looked down at the stream. In the dark it looked like the ground was moving. Ryan stood in the middle of the stream and looked it up and down.
He said I remember stepping stones being somewhere around here. I haven’t been down here since I was a kid.
Ivan shrugged. He said It’s only for little kids and their bikes, teenagers who want to make out and middle-aged joggers who are frightened of dying.
I guess if we were frightened of dying then we wouldn’t be down here, Ryan said, chuckling to himself.
Are your feet soaked?
Nah.
Past the stream they found an actual trail worn by years of boots and wheels. Ivan continued venturing forth with Ryan following, despite Ivan not knowing where exactly they were going. Even so, their path through the forest felt somehow linear.
Now that they were no longer putting their frail bodies through a natural obstacle course, their breathing regulated and their muscles relaxed, and walking through the forest became much easier; if not for the claustrophobic darkness and the way nearly everything took on a threatening appearance, they may have even enjoyed their walk.
Soon they reached a clearing where they discovered a shape on the ground. The shape was similar to that of a filled-up duffel bag.
Ivan requested silence from Ryan by placing a finger to his lips. Ryan mouthed some words to Ivan but Ivan had no idea what they were. He attempted tiptoeing towards the shape but every step he took in the quiet forest was like a crash of thunder; he quickly threw away all pretences of caution and crouched unceremoniously near the shape. With some relief he saw that it really was a duffel bag.
He said It’s just a bag.
Ryan said Are you going to check it for body parts?
Ivan paused as he looked it over more carefully. He said Yes. He picked up the bag as he stood back up and found that, despite being completely full, it was incredibly light, possibly even lighter than Ryan’s bag. He bobbed it in the air and then untied it once Ryan was by his side.
The bag was filled with dry leaves. Ryan asked Ivan to empty it on the ground; he did so and what came out were leaves and more leaves. They sifted through them but could not find a single horrifying item, not even a feminine finger with nail polish on it.
Ryan said What a gyp. He then chuckled but Ivan told him not to chuckle.
Ivan said It’s only going to be funny when we find Ilse and find out she’s completely okay. Anyway, it’s possible I just destroyed some homeless guy’s pillow. We should keep moving.
Ryan apologised and agreed. They kept moving until they came across the trail again, but paused and ducked down when they saw a black figure cut across it. The figure had been darker than the surrounding shadows, so black that it seemed to swallow the few shades of colour it passed. Ivan and Ryan looked at each other with the shared knowledge that they were going to follow the figure, and after giving it a head start they took to its path.
Burs stuck to them as they forced their way through the thick growths of plants and grass. There was no sign that they were still in winter; the further they ventured into the forest, the warmer it became, until Ivan and Ryan had unzipped their jackets and were wiping away sweat. They lost sight of the black figure fairly quickly but headed in the same direction regardless, picking off burs as they walked.
Finally they reached another clearing but stopped as soon as they noticed it, opting to crouch in hiding behind a large gnarled tree due to what they saw. In the middle of the clearing was another duffel bag, but beside it was something far more peculiar: a distinctly human shape, sprawled on the ground and giving up the breaths and murmurs of a deeply dreaming woman. Even more startling was a circling black figure wearing a bright blue mask, the mask completely featureless except for a subtle ridge running down the middle.
The figure kept its attention on the sleeping woman as it circled around her and then suddenly stopped. Ivan and Ryan slunk down behind the tree even further until they could barely make out what was going on; they watched as the figure picked up the duffel bag, opened it and poured its contents out onto the woman, a thousand fluttering leaves the colour of dried blood. Then the figure held up the woman’s back and Ivan could see that it was Ilse.
Ivan burst out from behind the tree as the figure began pushing a leaf into Ilse’s mouth. He ran up to the figure as it lifted its head in his direction and swiftly kicked the figure’s mask; the mask, however, was so solid that his foot merely bounced right off. In frustrated rage Ivan fell onto the figure and wrestled it against a nearby tree, where he proceeded to pound the figure’s mask with his fists. He pounded on the mask until his hands were bloody but he felt none of the pain they were most likely receiving. He pounded on the mask until it cracked and until it shattered and until the pieces were pushed into the figure’s face. He punched the figure until the shards of its mask cut and revealed the bones in his fingers and hands.
Ryan pulled Ivan away before he completely crippled himself. He pulled Ivan beside Ilse, who had fallen back into her sprawled, sleeping position. Ryan talked to Ivan but Ivan could not hear any of the words his friend was saying.
Ivan looked up, and through the red of his vision he saw that the lights were still falling. One landed between him and Ilse, and Ilse slowly opened her eyes to it.
She smiled weakly and kept trying to say something but apparently it hurt too much to speak. Her mouth would open a little but then would just as quickly close. Finally she found her bearings.
She said I guess I was right.