8 II. Lucid dreaming. Part 3

I had never been afraid of pseudo-scientific experiences. At best, I had become more attentive than usual. But that, that knocked me down mentally. Not knowing how to react, I was frozen in time, my feet glued to the concrete. She approached me and slowed her steps as she caught up with me.

"Sir..." her voice was like a winter sigh, cold and mellifluous, like the breeze that coats your body and doesn't let you breathe. "Please help me. It is chasing me."

"What...?" The words stuck in my larynx, they didn't want to leave my body. "Who ... is chasing you?"

"The evil." She took my hand then. The touch with her skin immediately passed her mood to me. Terror, fear, panic. I couldn't tell what the intensity was, because it was confused with mine. "There he comes." She pointed to the door through which she had come out.

I looked in that direction. Then the door opened. A glove held the handle and pushed the door, and in the darkness of the corridor that leads to the stairs, was a person, or at least the perfect silhouette that could pass for one. It moved closer to the portal, and I could see its face. It had a wolfish appearance, with fierce teeth that adorned the inside of its immense mouth, the broad jaw of which supported its weight. But the eyes, those dangerous eyes that emanated hatred, were human, unusually large for such a mouth, with bristling lashes and bushy eyebrows.

The hood that thing was wearing gave me no sign of its hair, and the rest of the gray t-shirt gave me no clue of its sex. But I could feel that we were in danger.

I took the girl's hand tightly and led her to the kitchen where the rest were. I stopped when I noticed that Ramcés came out of the kitchen and looked at us without realizing it. I looked back where I left the werewolf chasing the little girl and it was gone.

"Thanks for pushing him away." Her voice came candidly to my ears.

I looked down and noticed the huge hole in the back of his neck. A part of his skull was completely broken and she had taken meninges and neurons with it. I released her and she ran off in the direction of the cemetery.

I noticed that Ramcés entered the kitchen again and I approached them. I remembered that my intention that day was to go out and take a look like him, so I ran suddenly and slammed the door when he saw me take the handle. I couldn't take the risk that my other self would notice me, or even worse, that some of those who I had come to the conclusion, were spirits, hurt some of us, or, rather, of those who were there.

They packed up their things and left the rest as it was and then rushed out, scared. I chased after them just to check that nothing happened, to make sure no one else was following them.

I knew in advance that nothing irregular was happening to Fiorella and me, so I continued to stalk the other group. I saw Alexandra abandon Noely and Ramcés to go to her room. A quick glance out the window was enough not to see anyone nearby. I went up to the third floor and saw Ramcés say goodbye to Noely, and then open the west door of the internal passage that faces building three. Noely, in a hurry, opened the opposite door on the other side of the corridor and I lost sight of her. But it perfectly evoked having seen her safely enter her room that day, so I followed Ramcés's trail.

As I walked through the door before it closed, I looked into the distance, at the other end of the external corridor on that side of the building, at a boy apparently my age in the shadows, staring at Ramcés, but the latter seemed not to notice.

The boy was still standing, like a frozen statue rooted in the aged wood of the floor. I approached, trusting that he wouldn't see me, and I noticed that all that time it was not Ramcés who was noticing so intently.

The kitchen has a part that protrudes about half a meter, so the closer I got to it, the less I noticed the boy. I turned at that corner where the view was obstructed, and turned the path, following the passageway. Then I saw him finally move and open the kitchen door. The moment the light detected its presence, it turned on, showing me details that the shadows previously hid from me. His neck, notably marked by the violence of a rope, left little to imagine and much to infer.

I tried to get closer to him, but suddenly, he got scared. He looked in my direction, not really seeing me, and ran like a soul carried by the wind, terrified. I turned around, to see what had scared him, and there he was: the werewolf who was also feared by the little girl from four.

Now, with shadows on it, but without darkness to hide it completely, I noticed the lead shirt identical to the one the stranger had left me in the package, and a pair of threadbare jeans, along with some black sneakers uncooked at the ends. He was a person, not a wolf. What was stuck to the lower part of his face was a mask against the cold wind that runs in Dells. But at that moment, the one who had to run was me.