SHARING EMMA [18+]

31. Mixture of Exhaustion

|EMMA|

As I stepped out of the villa, the warm, salty breeze enveloped me, and I inhaled deeply, savoring the scent of the ocean.

To my surprise, the wind was carrying an eerie sound, like a haunting melody, distant and otherworldly.

Curiosity piqued, I followed the sound, my bare feet sinking into the soft sand with each step. As I approached the beach, the chanting grew louder, and I could see a group of people gathered around a tent and a bonfire.

They were all adorned in jute skirts and beaded necklaces, with their bodies painted in intricate patterns. Not a single woman was among them, and their voices rose and fell in unison as they swayed and moved in a circular motion. Their hands were raised to the sky, and their movements were so synchronized it was almost hypnotic. Their language was foreign to me, and I couldn't make out a single word, but the passion in their voices was unmistakable.

However, what caught my attention the most was that they were circling around a tent, not the fire. It was an odd sight, and I couldn't help but feel intrigued by their strange ritual.

When I finally stood merely a few feet away from them, I noticed the flickering shadows on the walls of a nearby tent. It was clear that there were two people inside, and the noises coming from within were becoming more audible with each step I took. At first, the rhythmic chanting of the native people had masked the sound, but now that I was closer, I could hear it clearly.

And then, something weird happened.

Two figures emerged from the tent, their eyes fixed on me.

The atmosphere grew tense as the circle of native people parted, making way for the two figures as they slowly made their way towards me. But as they drew closer, I could hardly believe what I was seeing. It was as if I was looking into a twisted mirror, seeing a perfect reflection of myself standing before me, but somehow not quite the same...

I jolted awake, my heart pounding in my chest as if it wanted to break free.

The dream had come again, leaving me feeling trapped and disoriented. This was the third time it had haunted me, and I couldn't shake off the feeling of suffocation and fear. The people in my dream were chanting in unison, and I couldn't make out what they were saying. And there was that man, always next to me, but his face was shrouded in darkness. Who was he? What was his connection to me and this ritual?

Perhaps it was just my overactive imagination running wild after the terrifying incident that took place in the tent a couple of nights ago. Or maybe it was a foreign ailment creeping its way through my body, taking control of my thoughts and emotions. But regardless of the cause, one thing was for certain: I couldn't continue living in this state of perpetual fear and anxiety. It was driving me to the brink of madness, and I knew I had to take action before I completely lost my grip on reality.

I paced back and forth in my room, my thoughts racing as I tried to come up with a plan. I couldn't shake the feeling that something was off on this island, and I couldn't ignore it any longer.

I glanced at my watch and sighed in frustration.

The numbers on the dial showed that it was not even midnight yet, and I had been tossing and turning in bed for what felt like hours.

But then, a glimmer of hope flashed through my mind. Perhaps Carlos was still in his study. Lately, he had been burning the midnight oil, staying up until two or even three in the morning. If there was something wrong with this island, or if I was just being paranoid, I knew that I needed to have a chat with Carlos. He was the only person who could tell me if there was any truth to my suspicions.