I began to regain consciousness, slowly opening my eye
Hot…
Too hot.
It's hot
My skin is burning
It was as if I had been locked in a hot spring.
I moan.
A faint sound. Broken.
– …ouch…
My throat is dry.
Glued.
I'm trying to move.
Nothing.
My arms aren't responding. Neither are my legs.
Panic.
My heart is racing.
– …hein… ?
It is a force.
Again.
Still nothing.
I'm breathing faster.
My chest rises with difficulty.
I sense something around me.
Thick. Heavy. Tight.
Sheets.
Far too many sheets.
Wrapped up. Tied up. Pinning my arms against my body.
That's what it's like to be mummified
I blink.
My only good eye.
My vision was blurry and, on top of that, it was obstructed by a hot towel that kept slipping off my forehead.
In front of me…
A ceiling…
Wooden.
Beams. Planks. An old, dusty chandelier.
– …what is this…?
I frown.
This is not the room. This is not the snow.
It looks like…
To a house.
A real one.
I swallow.
– …(I am alive) … ?
A nervous laugh shakes me.
– (No…)
– (Impossible…)
– (I'm already dead…)
I remember.
The cold. The snow. The body giving out.
Black.
I close my eyes.
– …so that's it…
– The aftermath…
– This is rubbish, as far as paradise goes…
I breathe.
Then…
Tac !
A noise.
Footsteps.
Lenses.
Creaking wood.
Someone is approaching.
My heart skips a beat.
I listen intently.
A door creaks.
Is this death?
It opens slowly.
I try to turn towards the noise
Duty
I was stuck like an earthworm.
A figure enters.
A girl.
I can only half see it.
Hair tied back. Simple clothes. An oversized sweater.
In his hands…
A steaming basin.
Steam is rising.
She approaches the bed.
Without looking at me.
– …the laundry still needs to be changed…
– He's still burning with fever…
She sighs.
Then…
She looks up.
Our eyes meet.
My eye. His.
Silence.
A second one.
Two.
Three.
Her pupils dilate.
His face turned white.
– ...
– ...…
The basin is slipping.
CLANG !
The water spills.
On the floor.
On his feet.
She doesn't even react.
She takes a step back.
Then two.
– h- he…
His voice trembled.
- he…
She turns around abruptly.
And shouts:
– HE'S AWAKE!!
I really thought I was going deaf.
The door slams.
The sound of hurried footsteps.
Voices.
Out.
- What ?!
- Serious ?!
– Impossible !
– Go get the old woman!
I remain frozen.
Short of breath.
– …hein… ?
- Wait…
I murmured in my broken voice
– Come back…
I try to move.
Still stuck.
– (What's this new scenario?)
My head is spinning.
I feel the fever weakening me and calming me down.
My body feels heavy.
Breeze.
As if every bone had been dismantled.
The door opens again.
Stronger.
This time, there are several of them.
Two men. An older woman. And the girl.
They're watching me from afar
Like a ghost.
Like a miracle.
A young woman approaches. Tired eyes.
She places her hand on my forehead.
–…it's hot…
– That's good news…
– we need to find a health potion for his fever…
She looks me in the eyes.
- Little…
– Can you hear me?
I have difficulty swallowing.
- …Yeah…
– …where are we? …
They look at each other.
Shocked.
The girl whispers:
– seven days…
– that he wasn't moving anymore…
– We thought…
She stops.
I understand.
- …dead…
The woman sighed.
"Get out," she ordered.
All the voyeurs, including the little girl, left the room and closed the door behind them.
"Your survival will depend on your answer to my question," the woman threatened.
– what are you really
I blink.
(What kind of question is that?)
- …How so? …
– …I am myself, a person…?
She breathes.
– Were you hit in the head too?
she murmured
– And you're a monster of the game.
Silence.
These words strike me.
Monster of the game?
I don't even have time to think about it
She pulls out a knife and slips it under my throat
– You can't answer?
Is she threatening me?
I instinctively back away.
– …I am not a MONSTER…?
They hesitate
But lower the knife.
– …hum…
- …I see…
She brought a chair closer and sat down facing me.
And gently begins to undo the sheets around me
– You're lucky.
she murmured, revealing my body
– Your soul is ruined.
She stares at me.
Probably waiting for a reaction
My body was frail and completely covered in bandages, right down to my fingertips.
I'm looking at the ceiling.
A faint smile appears.
– …too bad for them…
– I don't intend to stop.