Diary embedded in the soul, part three.

December 25.

Today is a special day, I feel it in the air.

Jon is getting worse, coughs are constant, most of the day. For a few minutes they stop, then they start again, and the seizures keep pushing.

New words came out on Jon's back. This time they are dry and precise.

Abandonment. Escape. Sin. Blood.

I think I know what it refers to. My wife died of the same disease. Her fingers had turned black, and she hadn't left the house for months. It was unbearable agony, both for her and for me. She used to scream all the time. In the end we ran away, left.

Jon has no faults, he was a child, he followed my directions, I should be the one to suffer, the culprit. I should have this cursed disease myself. But no.

Maybe this is surgical punishment for what I did. If Jon died, I would become like him too, I would contract the same disease and suffer until my last breath.

No, it will be fine. I have to recover. I took a walk by the river where we camped. Jon sleeps. Even when his eyes are open, he seems to sleep the same. Always.

Yet I know he wasn't always like that. Years ago, before my wife died, he was a deeply normal child. Maybe too much.

We were in a village like the one I ran away from.

There is no one around.

December 26.

I dreamed of my wife. She was still healthy; we lived a quiet life in a city I've never lived in. The city was absorbed in a sleepy aura and all was peaceful. Jon wasn't there, that made me calm. Then suddenly, towards the end of the dream, my wife turns into a huge mass of shadow, laughing psychotically. She repeated incomprehensible phrases, but which I somehow understood. She killed everyone in that city, leaving me as an impassive spectator.

I wake up and head for the river. Jon is still sleeping, in the same position I left him in. At least he doesn't cough anymore. His words reached up to his neck.

I walk towards the river, like yesterday. There is a calm air, even if I feel observed. I notice something moving across the river, behind a bush. This thing comes out and turns out to be one of those creatures.

I stare into her face and think, "Is this how he will become once the disease devours Jon entirely? Is this how my wife became?"

That flat, pale face, a mask looking at me with an expressionless smile. The creature slowly approaches towards my direction, I have no weapon with me.

I have the impression that the creature is my wife who has finally come to get me. She is wearing a dark dress that leaves a dark smoke behind her. I do not flinch; I think I deserve all this, and I accept the punishment. However, a flash slaps me from inside my mind, a voice saying "Live! Live for Jon!"

At that point I quickly head to the other side, towards our camp, but that thing manages to reach me. I feel his breath on my neck, I turn and there it is, her grin drawn by sick hands penetrates my soul before piercing my flesh.

It's over, I think, I can't die like this ... I can't die now ...

I don't get hit; I don't fall to the ground in agony. And I almost feel guilty about it. I turn and see that the creature has been pierced by something and is now dissolving in that mound of black smoke.

The hand that pierced that thing belongs to a tall, stout silver-haired man.

The man draws his polished sword from the now almost dissolved creature and looks me in the eye, smiling. I feel like I've seen him before, his face makes me sick for some reason, but I think it's the tension of the moment.

"T-Thanks ..." I tell him.

He snorts proudly, still smiling.

"Walking around alone without a weapon ... Do you really want to get killed today?"

I nod but don't know what to say.

"You thought there was no one around here, did you?"

I nod again.

"It was all too quiet ... But it's never quiet. Never let your guard down unless you want to die on purpose."

I go to him to shake his hand. He looks at me and hesitates for a few seconds. I think he doesn't want to squeeze it, but just when I'm about to withdraw it he grabs it hard.

"I'm Lihin." He speaks.

I tell him my name.

"So ... What are you doing around here?"

"I escaped from my village ..."

I stop and look in the direction of my camp.

"... I'm looking for someone to look after my son."

He nods, putting his fingers on his chin, pretending to think about something.

"Maybe I can help you. Take me to your son."

At his words, my heart beats with disbelief.

December 27.

Yesterday, I took the mystery man, Lihin, to Jon. He had just woken up and started coughing again, not strong like other times.

"Jon, how are you feeling?"

Jon remained impassive, as always. Sometimes I doubt he really hears me. Lihin at the sight of that scene gave a short laugh. A laugh that had something unnatural about it. When I saw it he apologized.

"I'm sorry. It's kind of an involuntary reflex that comes to me every time I come across something unpleasant."

He said he, still with a smile on his face.

I took off Jon's shirt and showed him the marks, the words. Others had sprung up.

Dad, why ... Stop. I'm scared.

Lihin began to think again and watching the scene he shook his head.

"It is already in such an advanced state ... The Grudge is a bad plague, it can decimate entire villages."

Grudge? I asked.

"Yes, it is called that by most people. It is a disease born a long time ago. More than a disease it looks like a curse ..."

Lihin laughed again, louder this time. Honestly, I was irritated by his vice, even if it was unintentional.

"But maybe I can help you ..."

I stared at him waiting for him to continue, as if he were the last remaining light in a sea of ​​darkness.

"I know a man, an old exorcist and doctor, who has managed to cure several people. I think he is the last of his kind. Since the words are understandable, I can take you to him."

I exploded with joy. The hope I felt made me tremble with fear, I thanked him and asked him where the man was.

He was in a village not far from here.

"Where are you heading?" I asked him later, in front of the fire.

"Nowhere. I have fun, I go around, I find things and I keep them. And when I think it's enough, I throw them away."

I take a moment to reflect. This guy is weird.

"You always smile ..." I tell him.

He nods, bursting into laughter.

"Yes. It's a bad habit of mine. I can't find anything that doesn't amuse me ... Even the ugliest thing in the world has a minimum of irony in it."

"I'm not of your opinion, honestly."

The mysterious man shrugged, smiling at the sky.

"I think I'm the only one who thinks so now!"

"How can you be so happy ... In such a world?"

"I told you."

"I think you're right ..." I said finally. "I think you are the last happy man in the world."

Lihin burst into a thunderous laugh that woke Jon, who had recently fallen asleep.

"Sorry!"

Lihin camped with us. For the first time in years, I slept without dreams. The best sleep I could ask for.