Restless, he wiggled around on his straw bed, trying to find a comfortable position. That's when he heard Jorn shifting around as well.
"You can't sleep either?" Lovek asked.
No response.
Frowning, Lovek turned over and saw Jorn standing.
"What? Taking a wee?" he asked.
Again, no response. Instead of answering, Jorn pulled his shirt off.
"Why the hell are you taking your shirt off if you just need to piss?" Lovek asked, confused.
It was dark, making it hard to see clearly, so Lovek sat up and looked at Jorn's face. His eyes were open—but he looked completely unconscious.
'Is he sleepwalking with his eyes open?' Lovek wondered.
Just as he was thinking that, Jorn started taking his pants off.
"What the fuck are you doing? Didn't I say I'd kill you? Do you want to die?" Lovek growled, standing up. But his words fell on deaf ears.
Jorn, completely unbothered by Lovek's threats, walked straight out—completely naked.
"This shithead…" Lovek muttered, rushing after him.
He caught up and grabbed Jorn's shoulder, trying to shake him awake. "If someone from the village sees your pasty ass, they'll kick us out. Wake the fuck up!"
Lovek slapped him, but Jorn didn't react. His eyes were open, yet he kept walking like a puppet.
Lovek tried holding him back, but it was useless. He was wasting his energy.
'What the fuck? What kind of sleepwalking is this?' he thought, frustration growing.
Jorn kept moving, heading straight toward the woods.
'At least he's going that way… no one will see him there,' Lovek reasoned, deciding to follow.
As he trailed behind the naked Jorn, a thought crept into his mind. 'He was naked this morning too… Was he sleepwalking last night too?'
The woods were alive with the sounds of insects and animals. Moonlight pierced through in scattered patches, but most of the forest was swallowed in complete darkness.
Yet, Jorn moved forward without hesitation, never stumbling. He took turns, avoiding trees and bushes as if he could see perfectly in the pitch-black night. Even Lovek, fully awake, struggled to navigate through the darkness.
The eerie consistency of Jorn's movements, combined with the unsettling atmosphere of the woods, sent a shiver down Lovek's spine. But despite the unease creeping up his spine, Lovek still followed Jorn.
As Lovek trailed behind Jorn, the silence of the woods was suddenly broken by the sound of rustling ahead.
"Shit," Lovek muttered under his breath.
Without thinking, he lunged forward, tackling Jorn to the ground. They hit the dirt with a thud, and Lovek immediately clamped a hand over Jorn's mouth.
"Stay down," he whispered harshly, pressing his weight on him.
Jorn didn't struggle. He didn't even react. His open eyes stared blankly ahead, unfocused.
'I should have done this from the start,' Lovek thought, realizing Jorn wasn't even resisting.
Keeping Jorn pinned, Lovek cautiously peeked toward the source of the noise. His breath caught in his throat at what he saw.
"What the fuck…" he whispered, his voice barely audible.
In the clearing ahead, six people knelt in front of a crude stone altar. Their heads were covered with black hoods, and their naked bodies gleamed under the twin moonlight. Lovek's eyes darted across the scene, and he quickly registered three men and three women, all completely exposed, motionless, and unnervingly quiet.
Lovek's eyes were drawn to a figure emerging from the darkness behind the altar, stepping out from the mouth of a cave. His breath hitched as he saw it was another woman—also naked. Her figure was undeniably striking, with pale, rosy-white skin that seemed to almost glow under the moonlight. Her curves were pronounced, her body flawless and smooth, yet her face remained hidden beneath a red hood.
Seeing her naked body, Lovek's throat went dry, and he swallowed hard. His pulse quickened, and not just from fear.
The woman in the red hood slowly turned her head, as though surveying the six kneeling men and women before her. Her movements were calm, measured, like someone fully in control. Lovek followed her gaze to the side, where he noticed another black sack lying on the ground near the altar.
'That must have been for Jorn,' Lovek thought grimly, his grip tightening on Jorn's shoulder.
The red hooded woman raised her head slightly and spoke, her voice clear and commanding, cutting through the eerie silence.
"We have waited long enough," she said in a cold, authoritative tone.
Then she spoke again, this time in a strange language Lovek had never heard before. Her voice echoed unnaturally, as though the woods themselves were listening.
"Ageame Foage."
As soon as the words left her lips, everything went still. The distant sounds of animals, the chirping of insects, the rustling of leaves—all of it stopped. The woods fell into an unnatural silence. Lovek could hear nothing except his own breathing, which he quickly tried to quiet, afraid that even the faintest sound might give him away.
Suddenly, there was movement. From the shadows of the forest, a deer stepped into the clearing. Its eyes were wide, glassy, and it walked toward the altar as if in a trance.
Lovek's eyes narrowed in confusion. 'What is happening ?'
The red hooded woman raised her arms as she began to chant in that same unknown language.
"Bas acrili em ato, rime jors ha. Bas acrili em ato, rime jors ha. Bas acrili em ato, em ato."
She repeated the chant over and over, her voice rising with each repetition, taking on a hypnotic, almost melodic rhythm. The deer continued walking toward the altar, its steps slow and deliberate, as though it were being drawn by an invisible force.
The deer walked forward, its movements calm and deliberate, before placing its head gently on the altar.
"What the fuck?" he mouthed, barely able to process what he was seeing.
The three men who had been kneeling stood up in unison, their movements eerily synchronized, and stepped closer to the altar, surrounding the deer. Their faces remained hidden beneath the black sacks, but their body language suggested a quiet, unwavering purpose.
The remaining women joined the red-hooded woman, standing in a line, and together they chanted in unison:
"Bas acrili em ato, rime jors ha. Bas acrili em ato, rime jors ha."
Their voices echoed through the clearing, low and haunting, as though they were pulling the very life out of the air.
The red-hooded woman swayed her body to the rhythm of the chant, her steps perfectly matching the cadence as she glided forward, her bare feet silent on the forest floor. Lovek watched her in a horrified trance, unable to look away.
When she reached the altar, she slowly bent down and picked something up from behind it. Rising to her full height, she held the object high, letting the light of the twin moons glint off it.
A meat cleaver.
The blade shimmered ominously in the silver and muddy moonlight, casting jagged reflections that danced across the faces of the kneeling men and women.
At the sight of the cleaver, a name echoed in Lovek's mind, loud and clear, as if shouted by some invisible force.
'BELA.'