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His step—first step after a blood rebirth—was marred by pain in the chest and trembling in the limbs. His vision was covered with white mist, maybe it was just a morning fog in the forest where he was killed. Kesä carefully touched the skin in the place where recently the cultists stabbed him again and again. He wanted to find marks or scars, but there was no trace of a terrible wound.
It was such a strange feeling. He was able to breathe, and walk, and think without any fear. The cultists left his wretched torn-apart body on wet grass under the trees, then went away, and Kesä didn’t know what to do. Call the police? Cry with relief? Or just forget all of this shit like a dreadful nightmare and go home?
“What’s wrong, dear Aleksi?” A smooth silky voice rang in his ears. “Are you looking for someone?”
Kesä turned around sharply. A familiar man leaned against a tree and looked at Kesä with interest in his eyes. His face was clean without any spots of blood on the skin, the weird cultist robe was changed by a white shirt, and the amulet of two triangles swayed on his wide chest. Nothing reminded of the horrors of last night.
“Who are you?” Kesä asked demandingly, but a nervous shiver gave him away.
“Oh, don’t you remember all of this happiest hours of your life? Only you and me, my dear.” Feigned surprise in the familiar man’s voice made Kesä feel awkward. Did he really forget something important? “I’m Thomas Seine. Just Tom for you.”
“Thomas Seine? A dead poet?”
“A celebrated auteur, first of all. And not so dead as you might have heard from Barbara,” Seine smiled with anticipation. His voice was velvet and tart like a strong wine. He looked mindfully at Kesä, waiting for something or just observing. And he saw perfectly how Kesä was shocked by an unexpected meeting in the forest shortly after he opened eyes.
“Barbara? Is she alright?” Kesä’s hearing caught on a familiar name.
“Yes, she is. But I can’t say the same about you.” Seine came closer. The amulet on his chest moved in time with every step.
Kesä couldn’t take his eyes off him. Maybe this is how a rabbit feels under the hypnotic gaze of a snake. Of course, Kesä didn’t consider himself a little helpless rabbit, but Seine… Yes, Thomas Seine was a true poisonous snake which was able to rip the throat of an enemy in a moment.
“The ritual went wrong as planned,” Seine said. Kesä felt a thin thread of connection between them. The closer Seine got, the stronger this feeling became.
“Does that mean I really died?” Kesä took a step back unwittingly. “And you are dead too.”
“Yes, you do. And no, you don’t.”
It sounded very familiar, but Kesä couldn’t remember where he heard these words. It was like an endless nightmare that started a new loop.
“Can a beloved character die from the hands of his own master?” Seine asked something completely strange and unexpected. Did he read a poem right now? Here, in the deep forest, when yesterday’s blood hasn’t completely dried yet.
Kesä turned around. A wide spreading tree grew behind him, and there was nowhere to retreat.
“What do you want from me?” Kesä shouted. He felt fear, rising inside him again. “Are you going to take revenge for Barbara’s adultery or what?”
Seine laughed. Now, a few steps later, he was so close to Kesä that his warm breathing tickled lips and the tender skin of cheeks. “I won’t blame Barbara for choosing to take advantage of your feelings. It was a smart decision.” He touched Kesä’s face with curiosity. “Oh, poor Aleksi. My dear poor Aleksi.”
A shiver immediately ran through Kesä’s body. The memory about these hands, stabbing a knife into his chest, flashed in his mind. Or maybe it was Barbara? Or the other cultists? Fortunately, Seine didn’t mean to hurt him right now.
“Don’t worry,” he said almost kindly. His fingers held Kesä firmly in place. “I won’t allow the darkness to take you from me.”