I believe some people call it a déjà vu.

From the valley of a deep dream I wake up to reality, only unexpecting to find myself standing inside a clock tower.

I raise my head and glimpse out of the gigantic clock from its rear, all that prints into my vision is a sky painted in orange, and everything the setting sun turns into dark silhouettes.

Warm sunlight penetrates through the glass face of the clock and showers over the unfolded note I pinch within my fingers, setting the message delivered without a signature in the last bit of light——

'Meet me on top of the clock tower of Dunne Sleibhe on November 12th before the sun sets.'

My eyes linger across the handwriting for seconds, yet I fail to find it familiar.

Into my shadow I walk, at my surroundings I give a few glances… The sun is almost setting, yet still, I find myself all alone up here.

Over the fragile railing I bend my waist, down the spiral staircase I gaze, only hoping to fetch the arrival of the person who wrote me this invitation.

I can't seem to remember which day it was, or perhaps it never came… This precise scenario once came to life before this.

Unfortunately, the arrival of the inviter is impossible to be prophesied…

Because the end of this day is never foreseen in my déjà vu.

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Among the speleothem across the atrium, white moonlight draws a circle within the Oculus of the dome. 

Floating black feathers surround me, while rings of dim candlelight encircle me. The orange flame wavers back and forth following the rhythm of our movements…

"Aahhh…!"

A low tinnitus rings vaguely in my ear, yet I can still hear myself clearly. I hear my own breath, they sound short and rapid. I can tell I am panting hard, I hear the sharp scream in my throat, I hear a few moans escape my lips… And I can hear him too.

He pants heavily in my ear. I listen so carefully to him, I can tell he is whispering words in my ear…

"Contractus constituitur inter te et daemonem luxuriae..."

It is too dark in here, I can't see his face clearly, I don't know who he is… But I can feel his desire so deeply.

I hug his head and stroke my fingers through his hair, I lay my other hand on his back. I can feel the texture of his skin, I can feel him covered in sweat. I can feel his flesh cut open when I poke my nails inside him…

"Agh-hahh…"

I can feel him inside my body, so deep, so passionately… 

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There is a time when one returns to the world unusually sober. Time in your dreams has passed a hundred years, perhaps a thousand… Yet the reality never fails to impact you with astonishment.

The hands of the clock strike three in the morning. The day has yet to break, the living souls on earth have hours before they are allowed to see the sun rise again.

And yet, here, before the huge mirror inside my dark bathroom, I stand shirtless. Water droplets stream along the lines of the curves of my body, until they glide down to my lower abdomen and evaporate into steam.

It is burning down there, my lower abdomen, that woke me up at three and forced me into the shower. Unfortunately, even cold water in the autumn failed to cool my body down.

Through the mirror, I fix my gaze on my lower abdomen. I tardily raise my hand and glide my fingers across my skin. Under my navel and above my membrum…

I can feel it burning, pulling and stretching, and as well as its urge of splitting apart.

When I squint hard enough into the mirror, I can even see glowing red lights penetrating through my skin from the inside...

Perhaps I am not as sober as I thought I was. It must be the fatigue that is causing the illusion I see here, or it could be the dim lights from the window reflecting on the water covering my skin.

I must be seeing it wrongly, I think to myself, I might have eaten too much yesterday, that it makes me feel uncomfortable in the stomach.

I should dry my body and get back to sleep, shouldn't I? I have classes in the morning, I don't want to be late.

Everything will be fine when I wake up again in the morning, won't it? All I have to do is just a little more prayer to the creator of the universe, and he will hear me out.

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Bright day light sips through the slit when I slowly open the shabby wooden door of my old chamber.

The morning light showers on my face, warming up my frozen eyelids. The sharp light draws my eyebrows furrowed as I step into it. The day is baptising the earth with its sacred light, yet I am not much of a morning person. I tend to remain my vision on the floor, the heating sensation I feel on my face makes me rather uncomfortable.

When the door swings backwards, the rusty hinges of the old door creak and scream, until the door frame stops it. I shovel the pocket of my plaid brown coat, pull out the jingling keys, and lock the door that could fall at any moment.

I raise my head for one last time before I walk down the hallway and the stairs, allowing myself to look up at the wooden cross that is mounted on the stained-glass window above the frame of the door.

Deeply, I take an inhale, trying to prepare myself for the new challenges of the day, even if my lower abdomen starts to feel the burning sensation again.

"Bless me, my lord, for the world might destroy the inside of me over and over, I ask you, Oh Lord, to stay with my spirit- Ugh!" 

Unfortunately, before I could finish my morning prayer, the pain in my lower abdomen stopped me. I felt it again, the burning, yet more vigorously this time, like a torch, or even the hellfire contacting my skin…

"Agh!"

I lean on the door and shut my eyes. I lay my palm over my abdomen, biting my lip, waiting for the pain to go away. I can feel sweat oozing out of my forehead and streams down my neck.

How ruthless… I just took another shower, and this is a clean set of uniforms.

"Good day, Mr Averell."

Before the pain in my lower abdomen fades, a deep man's voice comes in. I raise my head and turn to my side. In front of the door next to mine stands a tall man in a pair of polished leather shoes.

Along his long legs I glide my eyes and size him up——

He dressed himself in a pair of black trousers that fit him perfectly;

On the top, he wears a knitted turtleneck jumper in black, providing him with the warmth he needs;

Over his shoulders down to his thighs, a black trench coat drapes down, protecting him from the cold breeze of fall.

Along his fair skin I raise my gaze——

A strand of his soft black hair slips off the back of his ear and hangs down to his cheek. His fringe splits in the middle, partially covering his forehead and those thick eyebrows;

Under the round glasses hidden under those silver-framed spectacles that clamp over his tall nasal bone, his peerless red eyes bend into crescents. When lights seep in, they glisten like a lavish ruby stones;

Two shallow dimples form in his ruddy cheeks when his roseate lips curl into a tender smile, while his smooth jawline seems exquisitely sculpted.

Aside his flawless face profile, the accessories he wears capture my heed——

Around his neck, there hangs a necklace with its pendant inlaid with a real ruby stone. On his left middle finger, he wears a ring inlaid with the same gemstone, which somehow captures my sight for quite a moment here, as if there is a gravitational force in those stones that are pulling me in.

Meanwhile in his arms, he carries a box filled with plenty of white flowers. Their fragrance fuses into our surroundings, turning the scent of the air a little sweet.

He seems decent, and in a good spirit.

Though I wonder, since when is he here?

It must be the pain I am bearing that diverted the heed which led to my negligence against the approaching footsteps. However, from how he addressed me, I supposed he was trying to speak to me.

But, "Pardon me?" forced into astound, I squinted at him, "How did you know my name?"

The man points his finger to the rafters and draws a circle in the air, "The owner of this building told me." he said.

"The landlord?" at once, his words raise my awareness.

Figuring that he has managed to surprise me, he puts up a complacent smile. He there mentions, "Forgive me, for I should have first introduced myself——My name is Esmund Llevric, I am new in Elwesburgh, and…" he points to the door next to mine with his thumb as he claims, "I am your new neighbour."