EIGHT - The Gazebo

Mariana's diary

Sunday June 18, 2006

Time: ???????

We found the gazebo in a small clearing between the trees! I saw something whitish looming between the trees and since it looked close, convinced that nothing could happen to me if I just got off the road for a short while, I took one flashlight and went between the trees to have a closer look. I was hoping that maybe it was a village, a building, a tavern, anything to do with people. It was a gazebo. Gazebo in the middle of nowhere. Nowhere close was even the slightest indication of how it got there. There was no trail, nor a park near it. And yet there it was, seemingly made out of pale, whitish stone, with a conically shaped roof, and with a small, staircase that was pretty worn off by time. It was not really pleasing to the eye, and as far as I could tell, it was poorly constructed. Whoever built this, didn't know much about architecture plans and designs. The base was made from large stones which weren't even flattened, so it was pretty rough looking and probably not pleasant to walk on it. The pillars that held up the roof of the gazebo were uneven and even crooked, but regardless, the whole thing looked quite solid. Although everything was amateurishly made, from the base to the top of the conical vault, it seemed solid, stable and old. It's as if he's been standing there for years, maybe even decades, defying the laws of nature and mocking his own imperfections.

I must have made a sound of surprise, because Mickey suddenly appeared next to me, all freaked out.

"What is that?" he asked, as if I knew.

"I'm going to look," I said, approaching the gazebo, feeling much less brave than I probably looked. There was something wrong with this thing but I couldn't point what. He stopped me so suddenly that I squealed and thus revealed how scared I was. We were standing maybe ten meters from the gazebo, but because of the trees around us, and the deafening darkness disturbed only by the light of our flashlights, it seemed like it was much further away. I realized that Gazebo, with that sickly pale color, which was standing out in the darkness of the forest, resembled a skeleton from some spider like being.

"Don't you see those stains on the base of this thing?" he asked me.

"It looks like rust..." I started. I pointed the light of my flashlight in the direction of the gazebo, on the sickly pale stones at the base. The spots could have been rust, but how would rust form on stone? It was something else. I suddenly got the urge to get as far away from here as possible. I did not like this forest, nor this road, nor this sick, amateurishly assembled stone sculpture, resembling a corpse or perhaps an sacrificial altar. Whatever was going on here, it smelled bad, it looked bad, and I didn't want to be a part of it one moment longer than I had to. If Dick and Sergei, whoever he was, hadn't disappeared, I would have simply made the rest of us pack up and get out of here, anywhere, up the road, down the road, just to be as far away from this place as possible. I must have been standing there for a while, because I felt Mickey pulling me towards the road, and the voices of Pope and Jasmine.

"Let's get out of here, Mariana." This isn't a gazebo."

For most people, especially those who live in urban areas, getting lost in a completely unknown and inhospitable environment, whether it's a forest, a mountain, an ocean, a deserted rocky island, a huge cave, is terrifying enough in itself, and penetrates right into the soul of one of man's greatest fears. This place should not fall into the category of unknown and inhospitable environments. There is a forest, of course, but there is also a road, made by human hands. That road, like any other roads, has the purpose of bringing travelers somewhere, anywhere, to some meaningful location. It's like liminal space. In addition, area of Srem is small and it's unlikely that you will not completely cross it if you drive for a while in approximately same direction.

However, I am constantly plagued by the feeling that something else is wrong. Sometimes I lose myself, drift away, as if I'm dreaming, and I am in the middle of a nightmare. And for a moment I emerge through the surface of the dream into a waking state, and then I return back to the nightmare. Because all the clocks have stopped, we have no idea of time, which gave the illusion that time does not flow at all, that we are in a timeless space. The illusion got stronger in time because the intensity of night darkness was not changing at all. We were constantly consoling ourselves it has to dawn and then it will be easier for us to find the way out. We were expecting signs of an early dawn, some hint of dawn, but the darkness wasn't giving up. I have no idea what time it might be. It could be around four, maybe even five in the morning, but it still feels like the middle of the night and there were no changes in that.

I'm tired. I'm incredibly tired. Right now there is nothing I want more than to sleep in my own bed. Mickey says I can take a nap in the van, along with Jasmine, while Pope and he search the area, but in this place I have no desire to close my eyes even for a second. Although it seems to me that guys think that Jasmine either made up her story or was hallucinating, something about her eyes, something about her voice, makes me believe her, even though what she has told us was impossible. This place can't be a vortex. Time cannot stop. There are no monsters like the ones she described that attacked her in the car, and I'm no longer sure that Sergei isn't just an ordinary man with some health issue or an accident that deformed his body. I sat in the driver's seat of my car. Jasmine wasn't sleeping. She was sitting in the back of the van, with its back door opened, and was looking around in disbelief. You could see that she was terrified, and she made me nervous as well. We arranged with the boys to stay close enough to us that we could hear each other, in case something happened. I don't know why, but I can't stop thinking about that gazebo. Even from where I'm sitting, I can see its glowing pale structure in the darkness and it's like I'm expecting something to happen right there. Something really bad.

I must have taken a short nap, because somehow everything changed. Jasmine was lying on her right side so I could only see her back and I wasn't sure if she's just sleeping or if she's sick. In the darkness, There was a bloodstain over her beige T-shirt and I wondered if she's breathing, but I was afraid to check. The darkness, instead of receding, seemed to have become even denser, and apart from the two of us, it seemed there was no one alive for miles around. Where did the boys go? I'm getting really scared. Will we all end up disappearing here? I heard horrible screams from the direction of the gazebo and against all my instincts, I ran through the trees towards the ghostly stone building. Now, as I stood near Her, I could clearly see very fresh pools of blood all over the rough stone floor. I climbed the stairs that were crumbing under my feet. This thing was strong, but not immortal. That was comforting in a way. Only then do I saw that the stone in the middle of the base is different from the others. It had a handle, and it was more like a plate, like a trap door. Without much thinking, I grabbed the handle and, with a lot of effort, lifted the plate and gently pushed it to the side. Underneath, everything was completely black. Not simply dark, but more than that, it was palpable darkness, like tar. I heard screams again, and this time they were very close. Then I saw him. Sergei. He was dragging his body between the trees towards the "gazebo", towards me. He looked terrible. Whatever Jasmine thinks about his "special beauty and charisma", to me he seemed like a sin of nature. I could see that he was wounded. He was leaving a trail of blood behind. I wanted to run back to the car, but my legs wouldn't listen to me. I was standing still as if this place has enchanted me. Sergei was trying to tell me something and I could see that he is struggling to say it.

"A straight line out of a vortex…" he said with a desperate effort "doesn't have to be a physically straight line up. It's just a symbol."

I stared at him and as he approached me I felt like I'm about to scream.

"We're almost at the bottom." he said weakly "But the physical laws here are not the same. This place is.."

From that moment on, I didn't hear him, because his voice was overpowered by voices calling my name. The next moment I was laying on the grass, by the side of the road and looking at the worried faces watching me from above. Pope asked me what happened. I told him I don't know. I was not sure if what just happened was a dream or if it really happened. Mickey picked me up, quite easily, in his arms and carried me to the van. Jasmine was awake and looked very unwell, pale as a ghost with dark circles around her eyes. Her hair was pulled back into a ponytail, and since it's a light brown, you could see the streaks of blood around her face. Her clothes reminded me of old, used bandages from old, ruined hospitals. She looked very sad and I wanted to hug her, but I was afraid I'll hurt her. She seemed fragile and broken. Although I was terribly afraid of him, I would like that Sergei to appear, if it would make her feel better.

Mickey said that there was not a soul around and no one was responding to their shouts. Strange, but I didn't hear them shouting either. Although he seemed tired, he tried to joke that from now on Pope, because of his medical experience, as well as some formal education, has been declared our personal doctor. He hugged me around the waist. I could feel him shaking and his hands were too cold and wet, but he was still trying to comfort me. Then I realized that I was shaking. Mickey laughed nervously and whispered some sweet nonsense in my ear, and I knew he's doing it to cheer us up, even though he wasn't feeling well himself.

On the other hand, Pope wasn't even trying to joke. He didn't shake and didn't show at all if he was scared. I could see on his face that he was deep in thoughts and that he was trying to rationally solve our current situation and alleviate the obvious state of panic that was growing among us. He was trying to calculate how much more fuel we have left in cars and whether it would be better to sacrifice two vehicles, and transfer all the gasoline from them to the third one, which will take us all out of here together, or if we should drive in two separate vehicles, so if one of them would break, we would still have the other one. But that would also mean that we would be able to cover fewer kilometers. None of the vehicles was reliable. Jasmine's car had stopped forever and its engine could no longer work. We would have to collect everything that could be of use to us, gasoline, first of all, if there was any left at all. Probably some car parts too. My old car can't hold more than five passengers, so it would be a problem to cram all six of us into it, but we'll only think about it if it's really necessary. The van looked the most reliable, and besides, it's big enough for us all to fit in it. However, I suggested to Pope that we don't leave my car here. Even though it meant less mileage, I think I'd feel better if we had two vehicles instead of just one. Since both cars were Yugo, that meant I could have spare parts, which was another plus for two vehicles. When we decided that, even if we solved the problem of missing persons, we were left with a new question: where to go? Should we go back to the pub, find gas at any price and return from there by a safe, familiar route to Novi Sad. Or should we continue from here without returning. I had a feeling that we may not be able to go back. As we discussed which parts should be taken from Jasmine's car and other practical issues, as if these were the only problems we had, I felt a little better, but, like probably the others, I was sometimes horrified by the fact that we have not solved something very important. No matter how well we would prepare to get out of here, we couldn't really go until we find the missing people.

While they were all talking, debating what should be done next, probably just to make themselves feel better, I felt kind of distant. I felt like I'm underwater, I heard like through earplugs, distant, muffled voices. Everything became unclear. I noticed that Jasmine was looking at me as if she knew that something was happening to me. I re-emerged to the surface of some other reality and hardly heard any voices around me, nor do I saw familiar faces. I saw a miniature clearing between the trees and gazebo in the center. The stone plate in the middle of the floor was pushed completely aside. I approached... no, actually, I floated to the gazebo and stopped at the opening in the floor. Suddenly, the darkness that has accumulated thickly in the opening at my feet began to seep out like tar. I tried to move away, but as in nightmares, my legs didn't listen to me, I stumbled and fell clumsily to my knees, while a thick, dark mass was gathering around me. The feeling the darkness created as it engulfs me was actually very pleasant. I felt myself disappear slowly as it climbs from my legs to my waist and I enjoyed it. It suddenly stopped and I felt hands holding my shoulders and a voice shouting something. A familiar face, shaggy blonde hair and blue eyes and I could see that he was terrified and worried. I realized that I was not in the gazebo and that I was still by the road, with the others near the van. I could see that Mickey is terrified and that Pope and Jasmine were both pale and upset, but even though I didn't know what happened to me and why everyone was so upset, I felt calm and happy, like I was in a warm room, snuggled up in a quilt , while the snow was falling outside. Mickey didn't share my feelings. He rubbed my hands like crazy and yelled for Pope to bring blankets and warm up my legs. I didn't understand why they want to warm me up. I was ok. I wasn't even cold. It's only when I tried to sit up and say that I'm fine that I realized that I can't speak and that my body was terribly heavy. When I got to see my own cleavage and rather exposed breasts, I panicked. My skin was pale and bluish, almost like ash, like skin of dead people.

I realized I couldn't feel my hands in Mickey's hands, and when the feeling started to return to them, it was not pleasant at all. It was starting to hurt. The pain intensified and my hands felt like they were on fire, so I tried to yank them out of the steely grip that's inflicting pain on me, but he wouldn't budge. I was whining to be left alone and now my legs were hurting as they kept wrapping me in blankets. It hurt terribly, like they were trying to warm me up by roasting me on fire. I screamed and threw myself for what seemed like a very long time. I called them monsters and screamed for them to stop torturing me. The pains were terrible, like I was on fire. It seemed to last forever. And then everything stopped. It was like I woke up and felt normal again, very tired, but nothing hurt anymore and I could move normally. My clothes were scattered on the ground and asphalt and I was wrapped in blankets, but I could feel the cool, night breeze caressing my body. Not far from me sat Pope, elbows on his knees with his head in his hands. His look was worried, but he was not looking at me. Jasmine sat to my right, wrapped in an oversized leather jacket with bloody wisps of hair around her face, looking like a car accident survivor. One hand was on her forehead and she was unconsciously smearing blood on her face. She occasionally glanced in my direction. I looked at Mickey, who was sitting to my left, his head resting between his knees as if he was sick, so I couldn't and I see his face.

When he raised his head, his forehead is furrowed and his eyes looked exhausted. Strands of dirty blond hair wet with sweat fall over his forehead. He looked like someone who's been through hell. I could see a large scratch on his left cheek and his large hands are all scratched as if he fought wild cats. In a shrill voice, I asked them what happened. No one answers, but everyone looked at me strangely.

"You don't remember?" Pope said, giving me a strange look. To my surprise, he adds, "What did you take, Mariana?"

"Take what?" at that moment I didn't understand what he is asking me. I tried to wrap my chest in a blanket.

"Who undressed me?" I asked.

"You tore everything up," answered Mickey calmly, almost resignedly, as if he had given up trying to argue with anyone. "You shouted that you were on fire, but you were cold as ice. I've never seen anything like it."

"What did you take, Mariana?" Pope asked me, and now he was already annoying me, because I knew he meant some kind of drug or pills. I've never taken any of those things in my life, I don't even take medications unless it's really necessary, I don't drink and I don't smoke. I look at him offended and still didn't understand why Pope and Mickey were giving me strange accusing looks. Only Jasmine didn't look at me. Her gaze was directed upwards and she looked sad and tired. I was suddenly grateful to her because she was the only one who doesn't see me as a suicidal and drug addict.

"Maybe she didn't take anything," she said quietly, "Can't you understand that we're not in the normal world anymore. We are in a vortex. Sergei said so. He knows."

"You two are crazy." Pope said and get to his feet, then nervously paced around in circles. At first I hated him, but soon I realized that maybe he was right. Only Jasmine and I saw Sergei, only the two of us experienced the violence, the perpetrators of which others did not see, or could not see. For now, the two of us were the only connection to everything that's wrong with this place. Except for Dick, who disappeared, but that could perhaps be explained in some rational ways. I turned to Mickey. He looked like he has been attacked.

"Okay," I say, "so what happened to you? Who disfigured you like that?'

"You did it," she said, but without accusation in her voice, in a voice that was calm, but full of misery, "You hit all of us. We had to move Jasmine away from you, and I was the closest to you, so I suffered the most."

I squealed defensively at this accusation, but he slowly continued "As we were talking, you suddenly turned pale, then literally gray, your eyes turned so that only the whites were visible, and then you started twitching, as if in a terrible spasm, stiffened and fell to the ground. We were terrified when we saw how quickly you changed. I've never seen anything like it..."

He shook his head, but seemed unable to look at me. I wrapped myself tighter in the blanket. I couldn't believe a word of it. The sequel was even more horrific.

"You weren't breathing, Mariana," Pope said in a voice that almost made my heart jump into my throat, "You weren't just in shock, you were dead. Your heart wasn't beating. You weren't breathing. And that's not all. You looked like…" he paused and looked at me like he couldn't believe I was still alive, then shook his head and put his head back in his hands "like you've been dead for a long time. Not for a few seconds, not for a few minutes, but for days... It's like you died a long time ago."

"You're crazy, not me!" I screamed at him, the blanket comically falling all the way to my waist, which despite everything makes Mickey red as a fire engine, but Pope remains cool "That's impossible! I'm alive and you can see that I'm alive! And I didn't 'take' anything! It's this place!"

"I saw what fresh corpses looked like when I was on pathology practice, and I know what someone who has been dead for an hour looks like, and what someone who has been dead for three days looks like! You looked like you'd been dead for days. I've never seen anything like it! Never! I refuse to believe that it is possible for such a thing to happen spontaneously. I'm sure you must have at least poisoned yourself with something."

"You were cold as ice" Mickey continued quietly, looking everywhere but at me "even if someone really dies, they can't get cold that fast. You went completely cold in an instant and I could..." he stopped as if he couldn't even say it "I could see the livor mortis that appeared on your face and hands. It was terrible. We didn't know what to do, and Pope suggested we try CPR. When you started to show signs of life, he suggested that we somehow warm you up. That's what we did. At first, it seemed so... hopeless. It's like... I'm sorry, Mariana... like there's nothing left of you but an empty body. You looked so eerily dead. I'm sorry. Pope was the one who made us bring you to life after all. He argued that in any case we must begin the process of resuscitation and that what looked like rigor mortis and blue skin was only an illusion because it is medically impossible for certain signs of death to appear so quickly even if someone actually dies and does not breathe for much longer than you. He gave you CPR and CPR. I'm sure he saved your life.''

I saw Pope with his head between his hands was still looking somewhere in front of him, as if he couldn't accept that what he just heard is something that really happened. I tried to introduce the theory of poisoning, say a snake bite, but no one seemed convinced. And I didn't have a bite. What does it feel like to be very dead? I couldn't remember. Maybe it's like a solid, smooth, final darkness is covering you?