Am I going insane? Is what's standing in front of me… real? Or am I starting to see things that aren't there?
I guess I'm just hungry. Yeah, that's gotta be it. Hungry… tired… my head is killing me. This is all just a hallucination, nothing more. It's impossible for it to be real. Impossible…!
André clung to any thread of logic, conjuring up excuses in his head one after another, trying to convince himself that what he was seeing was nothing but an elaborate nightmare. But something in the entity's eyes, in its heavy presence, in the way the air had shifted around it, told him that this… was not a figment of his imagination.
"What's with all this darkness? It's rather annoying… I can hardly see you," the entity said in a deep, melodious voice, unsettlingly calm.
Then it raised its hand… or what resembled a hand… and a snapping sound echoed. It wasn't just the crack of fingers, but a snap that shattered the silence, as if a hidden command had been issued for the world itself to change.
And suddenly… a soft light ignited in the room. A small flame emanated from its fingertip, faint, not burning, not stinging, but it illuminated the darkness with an uncanny glow, as if it were revealing something André wasn't meant to see.
The light revealed it. Its black hair, shaggy, hanging over an enigmatic face, and its crimson eyes radiating a light devoid of warmth, devoid of fire, just a presence that scrambled the senses, disrupted perception, and made the whole place seem deeper, heavier. Its loose clothing swayed with a breeze that André didn't feel, as if it were an extension of the entity's control over nature itself, over the air, over every movement. The robe revealed a glimpse of its chest, showing a black feather marking on its neck, descending to the bone at the base of its throat. A somber, mysterious symbol, leaving a feeling of dread in André's chest, as if the entity itself held a perilous secret… a secret only revealed to those who stood before it, face to face.
Should I even call it beautiful? Should I be afraid right now? Damn… what am I even looking at?! These were all the thoughts swirling in André's head, amidst the ambiguity, the darkness, and the crushing presence before him.
He swallowed hard… or tried to… then mustered his courage, and spoke in a hesitant voice: "W-… who are you?!"
It didn't answer, but began to play. Moving lightly around André, circling like an elusive shadow, its voice coming out cunning, controlling the vocal ranges as it pleased, "Oh… are you scared? Or angry? Let me get a good look at your face."
It drew closer. Its face became mere inches from André's, its smile serene, but heavy, as if it were weighing down the very air, piercing every sense of confidence, every notion of control. "Ah… you're lost," it said, placing its hands on André's shoulders.
The touch wasn't just a touch… it was a crushing weight, a pressure on his mind and body simultaneously. André recoiled. His words trembled, but he tried to assert control, repeating his question in a hoarse, strained voice: "I said… who the hell are you?!"
The strange entity sighed and stepped back, its features filled with arrogant confidence: "Me? Hmm! I don't think we're on familiar enough terms to talk like that. You possess neither patience, nor a sense of humor." It took a deep breath, straightened, raised its chin with pride, and lifted its hand as if introducing itself before an unseen audience. "I am Luca. The spirit of the cursed, enchanting, and utterly unique Black Swan."
At that moment, André's expression changed. He wasn't frightened… but he was stunned. His eyes widened, his mouth slightly agape, his voice hoarse as he struggled to process what he'd heard: "What kind of ridiculous nonsense is that? What are you even saying?!"
"What! You doubt me… my very presence before you is proof enough, little one," it said in a tone that blended curiosity and evasion, as if it were toying with his mind, or humoring his limited understanding. "And now… tell me your name, little one."
It appeared to be a young man in his twenties, his features serene but his eyes carrying a hint of mischief, of an insatiable curiosity. The presence that filled the space around him… heavy, not allowing André a moment's respite, every movement, every tone of voice unsettling his consciousness and making him feel as though everything around him had slowed, as if time itself were coiling around him.
He opened his mouth, wanting to speak plainly, to state his name as any human would when asked… but nothing came out. He searched his memory, his childhood, in any shadowy corner of his mind, for any letter that belonged to him, any sound that identified him… but nothing. "Hey! Hey… why don't I know? How… how can I not know my own name?!"
He tried again. He strained his throat, as if he wanted to rip his name from his depths by force, but what emerged was nothing but disappointment, a barren void, as if all his memories had been extinguished at once, as if his mind had betrayed his body at the worst possible moment. "Haaa! You don't remember?" Luca said, his voice cunning, laced with a hint of challenge, but heavy on André's chest, "Try… try searching that little head of yours a bit harder."
André trembled, everything seeming to crumble around him, the air, time, his own awareness… everything had become a stage for despair. André nodded, his voice hoarse, feeble: "I don't remember anything… nothing… really."
Luca smiled, that smile devoid of warmth, just veiled cynicism: "I think I understand now… why my eyes saw you as empty. How unfortunate… it seems that you truly are just an empty shell." The tone of his voice wasn't just words… it was an arrow piercing André's consciousness, planting a sense of emptiness and futility, making him question everything about himself, about his existence, about everything he thought he knew.
Then Luca noticed André's pendant, and pointed to it. "Perhaps that will help you remember."
André's gaze froze on his chest. There, hanging around his neck, cold, clinging to his skin, alien… and yet, it felt like it had been a part of his body since time immemorial. He couldn't recall anything about its origin… but its presence ignited a hazy, fleeting, confused, intermittent vision within him.
A boy… or a girl? He wasn't sure. A small figure reaching out to him, offering him the pendant, as if claiming something long lost. "No… I don't remember anything either." His voice came out weak, hoarse, as if his mind was refusing to cooperate, his memory remaining hazy, muddled, like a dark cloud preventing any clarity.
Luca said in a cool tone, his eyes scrutinizing André as if they were searching his depths: "Strange, isn't it? To carry something you don't know the story of, and to not even know who you are."
He paused for a moment, looking at him intently, as if he were reading every fissure in his body. "I see you've been beaten pretty badly… your head is full of lacerations, matted with dried blood… and worse than that… look at your burned face."
He smiled faintly, but it carried no warmth, just a weight that felt like judgment: "I don't think it's so strange that you lost your memory. Good heavens… they've completely ruined you."
Luca gestured to each part of André's body, describing precisely what his eyes saw, as if he were reading a map of pain, as if André's body itself had become an open book to him. He didn't have to do that, but he did… as if he was justifying something to him, or holding up a mirror he couldn't escape, a mirror showing every break, every void, every loss.
André trembled, raised his hand, touched his chest… touched the pendant specifically. Then he straightened, raised his hands, and began to laugh… a laugh mixed with despair, with madness, then his voice exploded in a deafening cry, erupting from his depths, crashing against the air, the darkness, the lost memory:
"My ear… and now my memory… It's not fair… why is this happening to me?!"
Luca smiled a cold, heavy smile, carrying nothing but scorn, his voice coming out softly, but weighing down the very air around André: "Oh, you poor thing… do you really not know why this has happened to you?"
André looked at Luca with tearful eyes, his inner voice trembling, crashing with helplessness and despair. Luca finished in a cold, heavy voice: "Because you're weak…"
Weak… The word echoed in André's head, reverberating, bouncing between his thoughts and consciousness. He was lost for a moment, forgetting his surroundings, forgetting the place, even forgetting his body…
Until the sound of approaching footsteps broke through, invading his awareness like a sharp arrow. "Someone's coming… someone's coming here!" His voice trembled, uncertain, fear pressing on his chest.
Luca raised his eyebrows, looking around without concern, his voice sarcastic. "Huh… but I don't hear anything?"
Then, suddenly, as the person arrived, the sound of the lock turning began, a metallic hum slicing through the darkness. Each rotation spun in André's head, intensifying the feeling of collapse and dread.
And when the door opened, the cold light from outside crept in, revealing everything in the room. And there, stood Daniel, his face stunned… or perhaps terrified, sweat beading on his face despite the bitter cold.
André looked at him in astonishment, his heart pounding, then he remembered something, in a trembling voice: "You… you're the silver one, Daniel."
Daniel's features relaxed for a moment, as if the world paused for a brief second, then he surged forward, running toward André, and hugged his small, fragile, tired body. "Thank God… I found you!"
The embrace was warm, but it unleashed a wave of emotions inside André. His fear, his despair, and all the emptiness that had invaded his mind began to dissipate for a moment. That feeling stirred tenderness in his heart… a warm, strange surge, unlike anything else he'd felt in ages.
He couldn't hold back his tears any longer, and he began to cry, the sound of his sobs weak, broken, piercing the dark silence of the room, and mingling with the helpless beating of his heart, with Luca's cold echo in the corners.
The crying was a temporary freedom, an explosion of the pressure he'd suppressed for days… but at the same time, it reminded him of the void, of the lost memories, of the questions that had no answers.