Echo Thomas Olde [ENGLISH]

THE METAMORPHOSIS

"Digital Diary Fragments of Nick Grevers"

"But what now if all the peace, the comfort, the contentment were to come to a horrible end?
– Franz Kafka"

1.

"October 28 I'm disappearing. This morning it happened again. Blacked out and came to myself in a field above the village, alone and shivering with cold. Unrelated, of course. At home I found Sam completely over the moon. He had been looking for me everywhere, said I had been gone for a day and a half. A day and a half. And I couldn't remember anything about it. Brushed it off, showered long and hot, and scrubbed my disfigured face obsessively. The scars throbbed and pulsed. Beyond that it lives. Can feel it sitting. It's pressing, it's almost unbearable. The bandage helped a little, but not much. I went to write. Must bring order to my mind, for time is running out. The moments when I am myself are becoming scarcer. Now, as I type this, I am in a continuous state of fear. It could strike again at any moment. I'm alert to any sudden draft, any thought that doesn't seem to be my own. Every time the pressure seems to mount. Don't feel good about it. It's getting stronger and if I don't do anything now, I'll literally be gone in the future. But what can I do?"

"When it comes it will come with the force of a hurricane and blow my entire consciousness deep into the glacier. It's as if I never escaped it. I'm frozen in an eternal cold and all I see is the red speck of Augustin's helmet, tumbling and tumbling and tumbling. Until at some point I come to myself somewhere, without knowing how I got there, how much time has passed or what I have done. That's horrible, you know? The total loss of control is appalling... ... and it's tasty too. In a wicked way it tastes good, and I let it happen. It arouses urges that... no, I'm not writing that down. But I'm not the only one who can no longer resist it. Sam has become addicted to it. And this is where it gets really dangerous. Ever since that day at Castle Rock, he keeps releasing it. He comes up to me and then begins to tug at the wraps of my bandages longingly."

"Apparently my mutilation is no longer an obstacle. Should really be happy, but am not happy. He doesn't want me, he wants the other. He has nothing to do with me. He wants the wilderness. He wants the Maudit. And I do try to distance myself, saying we're playing a deadly game because it's gaining momentum every time, but S. downright hostile. The look in his eyes is the look of a junkie. calculating. He sees in me only what he needs and behind that sly face you can see him working on how to get that off me. What Sam sees when he rips off that bandage and lets the Maudit overpower him, I don't know, but it must be the same as when a junkie puts a heroin syringe in his arm. You know it's a path that leads to the abyss. You know you will OD in the foreseeable future. And yet you do it, because the liberation of the shot makes you forget all those things. Sam has a history of shit that he better stay away from. Then why am I his dealer? Because I have to be honest:

"I'll let it happen. The pressure behind my face becomes unbearable and then I have to tear off the bandage. I must release it! It manipulates me to release it. But I want it too, you know? I want it myself and before I know it I'm standing there with those wrappers in my hands and then I don't know anything anymore. It's not lust that drives Sam. No love. It's something more fatalistic. The day before last night he came up to me and clung to me. He looked lousy and trembled all over his body. He pressed himself against me and took a deep breath of air, as if he were sniffing me inside. It was a little scary, actually. What he whispered in my ear made me sick: "If you go, take me into the dark." My god, what have we set in motion??? So this morning I came to myself on that slope above Grimentz. Some way down the hill, three men in overalls were gesturing around a cow lying on her flank in the mud."

"At first I thought she was having a calf, but that's not the season for that. Then I saw that she was entangled in the barbed wire. A torn fence ran the entire length of the lower field. Trampled, muddy grass, cow pies – a herd had been grazing here. And it had clearly broken out. The oldest of the men caught sight of me. Started pointing. Expression changed, became furious. He yelled something and held up his pinky and forefinger at me. Checked Wikipedia - the horned hand gesture is still used by the ancient mountain people to ward off the Devil. The youngest of the bunch took a few steps toward me, revealing the sad sight of the cow's hindquarters. The skin was completely stripped off. The animal must have forced its way through the barbed wire. Other oxen had apparently managed to break free and paved the way for the rest of the herd, for from much below, out of the village, came the soft tinkling of bells. One cow lay dead halfway up the slope. I stared at it in disbelief. Did I do this???"