THIRTEENTH - Vicious attack

She left Boris in the van. He won't go anywhere anyway. She locked all the doors on the vehicle, took the keys with her and put them in a safe place, in the pocket of Boris's leather jacket, which she was wearing now, next to Sergei's medicine. She was no longer so afraid of this place. Because this is just a nightmare, isn't it? Perhaps she could accept Sergei as such, albeit with a lot of doubts about her own sanity. She liked Sergei and now she already missed him. But she could not accept a man with a huge smile and a snake-like tongue, a huge black slimy snail, a man without a brain and a tangle of hands without a body. When Boris turned into a plaster figure, everything finally became clear to her. This was a dream.

She didn't feel like she was dreaming, nor was there the typical lightness of her body characteristic of dreams, but perhaps this was no ordinary dream either. Maybe it was triggered by something, but while here she won't be able to remember what caused this dream and how to get out of it.

What did not support pleasant idea of a nightmare theory at all was the pain. Her shirt was soaked in dark blood, but she had no intention to check the condition of the wound on her stomach. The sharp, dull pain that kept coming back and causing weakness in her legs wasn't a good sign. Carefully and slowly, she began to lift the soaked and already torn cloth from her stomach. The sound of fresh blood peeling off the cloth from the fresh wound made her feel sick, and she slid down, holding on to the van.

It wasn't good. It was not good at all. In a few places, the stitching that Boris made broke and the wound was oozing. From that sight, she felt a cold sweat break out. Whatever this was, it wasn't a dream. If it's a dream, damn it if she's ever dreamed of such a realistic feeling of the pain of an open wound. If they didn't get out of here soon, a wound like this, while apparently not too serious, might kill her.

Paying no attention to the mud that covered the ground, Jasmine was sitting in the middle of it, feeling her legs giving out. Her hands were getting too pale. She was still losing blood. Little by little, but constantly. Soon she will simply bleed to death, and now there is no one to help her. No one, except maybe...

She reached into the pocket of Boris's jacket and pulled out a bottle. She didn't know what this liquid was, or if Sergei had left it at all, even though it was identical to the one he used to treat the bite of the snake-tongue. What could she possibly lose? She shrugged, unaware of that spontaneous movement, and without much hesitation opened the vial and dropped a few drops onto her open cuts. The relief didn't come immediately, but she could feel a pleasant cooling sensation, and after a while she could see how oozing parts of the wound were slowly healing. When it started to look much better, she lowered her shirt, still sitting in the mud, enveloped in a strange, damp whitish mist, and leaned against the door of the van behind her.

She started to look at her new situation in a new way, curiously, absorbing every unusual detail and surprisingly, almost with enjoyment. Because suddenly she no longer had to maintain control over herself and her life, not even if she tried. Only then did she realize how hard it was, how much energy it took from her, and how many beautiful experiences she lost forever because of it. Maybe Sergei's medicine was also affecting her psyche, but she felt different. She suddenly became aware that she was sitting in deep, warm mud that rippled pleasantly around her bottom and bare feet. She became aware of the freshness of the mist that floated around her in waves, giving the landscape an unearthly appearance. It was beautiful.

She wasn't even aware of how much time had passed, but she felt unusually good. What brought her back from her woke dreaming was movement from the van. This commotion didn't faze her. It didn't matter at all what was happening as long as something was happening, because this is a place where anything is possible and every new event is a new surprise. She began to understand this place, the Vortex, and realized that it was possible to enjoy it when it was accepted in the right way. She felt now clearly someone inside the van was moving, and Jasmine became aware that the fog around her was receding and that she was no longer sitting in the mud, but on solid, dark ground.

Something was changing again.

Before she could get up to check the van, she heard the door of the van on her side click open and one foot in sneaker landed on the ground next to her.

"For heaven's sake," she heard Boris's voice, tired, a bit distant, "what the hell happened here?"

She looked up and saw him sitting in the passenger seat, his legs stuck out the door, as pale as the plaster figure that had replaced him a moment ago. He was rubbing his forehead with one hand, and his eyes were closed.

"What happened?" he asked again without opening his eyes "Have I fallen asleep?"

"Everything is fine," she said calmly. She knelt down, turned to him and gently took his hands "It's going to be all right."

He was looking at her like she lost her mind and she saw fear in his eyes. That was strange to her. He leaned back a little as if to get away from her, but he didn't dare take his hands away from her.

"It doesn't help to be afraid," she said softly, "there's no need for me to try to control anything here. I can finally relax, there are no rules, no need to keep control. Isn't that nice?"

"Are we both drunk?" he asked again and now he grabbed her wrists "Who are you really? What's happening? How did we get here?"

He let her hands and stood up on his feet, took a few steps away from the van and she could see that he was really scared, although it was not at all clear to her why. Can't he see where they are? Can't he see how uncertain everything is here, how relaxed, how irrelevant everything is? Alive or dead, does it matter?

"You...you have blood on you? You're hurt…" he cupped his forehead again as if trying to remember "I can't remember. It's as if I remember for a moment, and then it escapes me. Why is there so much blood and mud on you?'

Jasmine was confused. Boris obviously didn't remember what happened, and her thoughts weren't the clearest either. There was a worrying confusion in her head, and she felt that it could take very little for her mind to break and leave her here in state of complete blank hopelessness. She tried to pull herself together and get to her feet, holding on to the van. That hurt and the pain cleared her mind.

"Boris, we wandered into this place. We're not on drugs, nor drunk, I'm sure we're not, that's how this place affects us. I'm hurt, that's right, you helped me and I'm fine."

She paused. He looked like he was finally starting to remember. He walked over to her and helped her up, holding her around the waist.

"Where are the others?" I know there were more of us. Did I pick you up at the gig? I can't remember, everything is like a fog. Somehow all this doesn't add up to me. You're not the type of woman I'd pick up at all, I like easier women, not smart... I mean…" he tried to correct himself, as if he was afraid of offending her, which almost made her laugh "you know what I mean... But why are we here? Where are Bentley and Dick?"

"We lost them," she said simply, "and the girl, Mariana. You don't remember her either?"

He shook his head.

"Amazing, this place seems to be constantly changing. It is as if we are moving through it without moving ourselves. I've never seen anything like this. They pull you up and down like you're on a yo-yo.", she said.

"Yo-yo...?"

""Listen!"

There was that chanting again, and this time it came from among the dark trees, which, as Jasmine noticed, didn't really look like trees anymore. They looked more like numerous dark pillars placed at almost exactly the same distances in between.

"We need to get out of here!" she told him, pulling him towards the van, but he resisted.

"I am not going anywhere without my friends."

Jasmine felt sheer panic. This chanting sounded like a direct announcement of an attack. And this madman did not want to run away. She couldn't just leave him here and lock herself in the van. She couldn't watch them tear him apart. She pulled him towards the van.

"We're not going anywhere, but we have to take shelter. These are dangerous.'

"No."

Now she felt despair. What does this guy want? To tear them both apart?

"I can't keep running away." he said calmly "I want to see what or who I'm dealing with. I want to see exactly how bad it is. If you're afraid, get in the van and I'll wait here."

The menacing chanting was coming closer and now it was evident that it was coming from among the dark trees and approaching them. Boris's hands were clammy and his face was pale and covered with sweat, but still he wouldn't move. She got into the driver's seat of the van and closed the door on her side. She left the passenger door open and her hand was ready to hold the key to start the engine. She had never driven a van in her life, but she'd be damned if now wasn't the time to learn. Boris will surely jump into the van as soon as he realizes how much danger they are both in. But then the chanting crowd appeared. Boris was too far away from the van and that damned fool just stood there staring at the opportunities that sprung up between the trees like cockroaches when the lights go out. She yelled at him to run but he just stood there. And there were many of those creatures, too many. This time she saw them clearly. They almost looked like humans, and among them she recognized a man without a brain and a creature with a snake-tongue. There were also some creatures that looked like clumsily assembled parts of human and animal bodies into a nonsensical whole, and there were also some creatures that barely resembled anything known to the human mind. Boris looked almost bewitched, he didn't move, he didn't blink, he just stood with his jaw relaxed and his arms hanging by his body. Did he see them? Even though she knew it was a mistake, she ran out of the van and started pulling Boris by the hand towards the vehicle. He wasn't moving. He looked mesmerized. She thought that he couldn't see those things that were approaching them through the trees, maybe as another trick of the Vortex, but then he said:

"Good God, do you see them? Do you see them too?"

"I can see them, they're real!" Let's get out of here!"

He didn't move.

"Are you fucking crazy? Don't you see what they did to me? They will tear us apart!"

"They're not going to tear us apart. Only you," he said. He looked mesmerized. The snake-tongued man was now a few meters away from them and his face began to stretch into a smile. She saw him too well now, much better than the first time. Most horrifying thing about that creature was the moment she realized that it looked exactly like a human being. With the exception of a smile that stretched and stretched as if trying to split the head holding it in half. Behind him, a spider-like being formed from a tangle of greyish and bluish human hands looked like it was preparing to jump. Boris looked at her coldly, and his eyes were unnaturally bright, hypnotized, almost without pupils. She retreated back to the van trying to open the door. Her hands were shaking so much that she barely managed to lock the door when she got inside. Boris could no longer be seen and was completely surrounded by the creatures. She left the man to die, to be torn apart so she could get into shelter. Consumed with panic and desperation, she reached for the van's engine key, but the angry mob already jumped on the van from the driver's side and almost turned the vehicle over on its side. She screamed as she fell into the passenger seat and hit her head hard on the glass.

She was trying to ignite the key, but wasn't easy at all, because the mob outside rocked the van from left to right like it was a cradle. It was obvious that they didn't know how to get into the van and were simply trying the only way they knew how: by force. Their strikes sent her flying around the inside of the van like a rag doll in a washing machine. Maybe they were stupid enough not to break into a regular old vehicle, but they still made it impossible for her to get her hands on the key and start the engine. The musical instruments and other equipment packed in the back of the van was clattering creating a deafening noise, which kindly drowned out the eerie chanting and growls coming from outside.

Jasmine curled her body into a ball on the floor of the van at the foot of the passenger seat, holding on tight so she wouldn't topple over, her head buried between her knees. It seemed as if the wild rocking of the van would never stop. She felt nauseous and in pain from being hit and falling all over the van, her head spinning and she began to feel dizzy. A few of those damned creatures, despite their apparently low intelligence, still managed to crack the windows of the van, injuring themselves in the process, and the glass was soon stained with their polluted, yellowish blood. From her poor hiding place, she could no longer see them because of the blood that was now covering the glass. The creatures were stupid, but strong and there were many of them. At some point, they're going to wreck this old vehicle and tear it to pieces.

Maybe it's better this way, she thought fatalistically, than to spend the rest of her life knowing she'd left a human fellow to die, to be torn apart by those outside. And maybe she could put an end to her troubles herself before these unfortunate creatures get to her. She sensed that if they got hold of her, death would be neither easy nor quick. Especially not here, where time stands still. As the van rolled with undiminished force, she looked around, poking at the seats. She screamed as the tip of the creature's tongue went through the small opening in the floor of the van, and now it was yawning helplessly with its dangerous little mouth, unable to get more than a few inches through. Keeping as far away from the thing as possible, she reached for the van key again. She will drive it as far as she can away from here, and then she will decide what to do next. She tried to wedge her body in the driver's seat, but at that moment the entire mob from the outside rushed into that side of the van, contaminating the front windows so much that practically nothing could be seen. The van swayed dangerously and this time it flipped onto its side so that Jasmine fell on the bottom side and hit her head hard on the roof of the van. The driver's seat came off from the force of the fall and fell right on top of her. The last thing she heard before everything blurred and disappeared were the eerie screams from outside and a rampage of banging on the upper side of the van's body.