(Rose)
It's day time. Clear skies. It feels like an eternity has passed since I last was able to breathe fresh air outside under a normal sky.
A second of freedom and peace.
Then my dark mood falls back onto me, along with the consequences of me hurting the surviving child just before.
In the garden where the wild grass is overgrown, Ann aims the rifle at me again.
Oh goodness, I think I want to hurt her too. Hurt her bad.
And I want to strangle her soft and cute neck long enough so I would never hear her squeals again.
I hear the monster laugh at my wishes, but they don't seem to hear it.
I'm feeling worse and worse. Hateful ideas now run unbound through my mind.
Ann looks unusually fierce now, while she clearly aims the rifle at my chest.
Why are you looking at me with such anger and sadness all over your face?
Charlotte is holding my bag and I understand. Oh tern goodness, they found it, and now have the wrong idea about it.
There is someone else behind them. And a fourth one aside on my left. A boy behind Ann, maybe sixteen. On my left, a woman who looks strong enough to be a man. She's wearing peasant clothing, but looks smarter than me or the others.
She's holding my book as I guessed.
She asks me to tell them what this is. Couldn't they have believed it was a book about botany like I did at first? Of course not. And now I will be blamed for it all.
Yes, it is a book about sorcery. They can't read it. Neither can I. It's not the language of the devil but Swedish.
Goodness, how dumb they all look now. They don't understand. Before they try to believe again that I'm the evil witch, I tell them the odd but simple truth.
I found that book in my research of something able to break a curse awaiting me at home. And even if I can't read Swedish, I was bringing it back home.
I'm angry that they accused me. They don't know what to think obviously.
The strong woman asks me about the curse I want to break. I reply sharply that it's not something she should care about as of today. She thinks about it and asks me then the more intelligent question.
F - Would you know something else about the current situation?
Oh, she truly is smart. I'm impressed. She's trying to find a proper way out rather than just argue with me about something flimsy. I chose my words carefully.
R - I know that some of the monsters are playing with us, and maybe want something else than just killing us..
F - Could they look for your book?
R - I honestly doubt it. That old thing is just a coincidence.
I believe so. They hope so.
All lowers the gun. She trusts me. I'm not sure why.
I ask her what she had shot at before. A beast she says. Its body is rotting by the gate.
I go look what the fallen monster looks like.
A muscular beast, between human and dog. Without skin and shady protrusions here and there.
What are they?
And what is the thing I see behind Victoria...
~
Hours have passed quietly. There is a small campfire burning inside the largest room of the decaying house.
We rest and speak a bit about the situation.
We're not sure of what is happening. Beasts? Demons? Weapons?
Something we cannot grasp. Something we do not know. It looks like dark magic to some. I hardly believe any dark sorcerer could still exist today. We've all heard tales, but I've also studied history. I believe that if magic ever happened to exist, it would have been used at war, like any weapon or technology to improve.
It never happened, and chemistry proved to exceed every sorcerer's dream of power, just a few years ago.
They don't understand how I can say that and still carry a book of spells. They don't realise that not every cleric is truly a believer.
I pretend, for someone else's sake.
For the cursed one who awaits my return at home...
What are the monsters then? Either harbingers of the devil, or bizarre weapons, or bizarre diseased.
There is something medical about them. Something I can't really comprehend or name, but makes me think they are not really normal, like wild animals.
Perhaps the fact that one spoke to me.
I know it's close by and looking at us, awaiting something probably. But I haven't told them yet. I'm scared to face my feeling of guilt.
I don't want to admit what I did.
Fruya, the strong one, shared her bread with us. I've heard that she wasn't on the train, but on a road close to it. Alan, the young man, was in the train like us. He didn't spoke much. He looked flabbergasted. He knew how to run for his life, hence he survived. I heard him say that he saw the braves being killed.
We all crave to feel strong and safe, but it's not always the best course of action to try so.
Cowards live longer. And I think they are right.
Fruya says she know where she was before the train accident, but that now she doesn't recognise the area nor the scenery. She knew the area very well, but doesn't recognise it anymore. The others felt the same way outside. I'm the only one who never went in this countryside before.
We've talked enough. It's time to choose what we will do and where we will go.
Ann suggests to go south toward London.
It means going back toward the nightmare, and then days of walk. It's risky. We could try to find a better position to defend close by, and wait for a while. It's uncertain.
I know it may not be the best option, but I suggest to keep going north.
In my mind, the territory of these beasts can't be infinite. We're bound to leave their domain if we keep going in the same direction.
They don't like my idea very much. I don't either, but it still seems a reasonable choice to me.
I don't want to believe that what happened to us has already spread through the whole country. My instinct tells me there is something territorial about the monsters.
The scarecrows. Maybe they want to keep us away more than just killing us.
That's why I want to keep fleeing.
We don't know if they fear fire like wild beasts. We will try to use fire against them at the next encounter. Meanwhile, the day is peaceful. But it's quiet. We don't hear any bird, or anything but us. There isn't any wind either.
That silence is a little oppressive.
~