"Happiness does not always come in the form of a rainbow. Sometimes, it's in the state of being able to sleep in the midst of a storm."
March 26, 2021
It was one weird night for sure. For one, the golden moon was still visible. However, it was the presence of cumulonimbus clouds that made everything feel different. Physma Island was supposed to celebrate its third centennial, but the upcoming storm halted the festivities. Instead, people were asked to stay in their special basements and wait until patrols gave them the clear signal through the walkie-talkies.
The lighthouse was already in full operation when Matthos stepped out of the comforts of his house. With a deep sigh, he closed the backdoor to be unnoticed. He conveniently wore his waterproof camouflage jacket, covering his coal-like hair. His eyes were the color of the clouds that threatened to spill water in a few minutes. When he saw some patrolmen, he literally sprinted across the yard and jumped through the bushes.
He only looked back when his instincts told him it was safe.
Only heaven knew why he was outside at that time or that specific moment. Matthos Trem was part of the volunteers who went from house to house and told them to stay inside because a storm is coming. That storm was Signal #5, which meant that it could blow off someone's roof and make someone learn how to fly and deliver them straight to the arms of God.
The Physma Atmospheric, Geophysical, and Astronomical Services Administration sent this information to them, and he delivered the news himself to the townspeople. But here he was, doing the exact opposite.
"Matthos Trem, you idiot," an idiot he is, saying it out loud to himself.
He was supposed to stay inside, try to catch up on sleep. Maybe do some Netflix and chill. However, that night was different. Of all the evenings of the year, it had to be then. Specifically on that date, in the midst of a storm that will decimate the clearing where his feet were taking him.
It was the time when his eye was most active. Something was wrong, and something was calling him.
As the storm hit him the way his ex-girlfriend did when they broke-up, Matthos took the long path leading to the maze.
"Oh no," he said, "Come on! You want me to go through the maze?"
If there was a person who witnessed Matthos now, whatever illusion they had of the respectable young man would be shattered. Who would speak to no one in the middle of the storm? But Matthos wasn't speaking to a person that you could see. Rather, it was something that only the cursed can bear the sight of it.
It made sense to go through the maze rather than go around it. The downpour was already becoming heavy, and the maze was wide that taking a longcut may prolong the arrival. The creature was begging in urgency. He was needed.
Matthos weathered the storm, digging his rubber boots on the ground.
'Left, left, left, right, left.'
Each step he took on the soft pillowy ground disappeared as the torrents of water washed his path. The wind grew strong and took away the faithful yellow umbrella from his hands. He looked up and saw that it was now hanging on top of the tree. This umbrella was an old one, and it had a charm that always found its way back to him. He knows it will come back to him.
'Someday, but not today.'
"Well, there goes my umbrella," Matthos sighed, finally drenched
Not when he needs it the most, and he needs it a lot right now. Lightning was his only source of light, and the water made it hard for him to see. Finally, the vision that kept on appearing in his dreams was in front of him.
"So this was it," he whispered to himself.
The statue of the mermaid kissing a man stood atop the fountain. If this was another day, Matthos would've taken his time to stand there and appreciate it for a while. He was gifted in the arts, and with the haunting scene in front of him, he could definitely sell the painting for a hefty price.
But no horror could match the scene behind the statue, as he would later find out.
"Why?" He felt a presence behind him, touching his arm lightly. Trusting his instincts, Matthos followed the being, and what he witnessed would traumatize the fainthearted.
It was a woman lying in a grotesque position. It was as if she were a marionette cut from its strings. Whoever hurt her, if it was even the right word, it wanted her to feel every bit. Even the strong drops of water could not hinder Matthos' sight. The blur became clearer with each blink, and the mist surrounding them slightly lifted. With the light provided by lightning, he can see the crime's product bit by bit.
Each wound was the product of a dull knife, his expert eye noted. These weren't stabbed nor clean cuts of a sharp, well-maintained weapon. Rather, it looked like the wounds were drawn repeatedly on the woman's skin. Some parts had superficial tearing, while others cut deep. But it was her face that made it haunting. The wound started from above her brow and slashed down to the top of her lip. Her right eye was bleeding, and Matthos feared that his skills weren't enough to save her eye.
Unless
Matthos chuckled, "So it was like that?"
Judging from the circumstances he found her in, she should've been dead. She's barely alive, he noted. He snapped back to reality as the wind grew stronger. The storm will only get stronger from then on. His time was limited.
With that, Matthos carefully took her in his arms. She was barely breathing. He felt the burning need to save her, an unfamiliar feeling like never before. Without further ado, he walked away, leaving the fountain and the peaceful life he believed he would lead from then on.