The Worl of I & F: Invisible Colours

Chapter 4: The Pact

Summer breeze blows at the flower field. In the middle, there's a willow tree and a little boy in a white outfit lies under its shadow. He's watching something on an old TV that's unplugged and running on its own. And Biserka stands beside her.

"So, it's here today," Biserka says, looking down at the little girl.

"Why are you here?" he says, watching the program that seems like a war movie.

"Visiting?" Biserka says softly, trying to make him look up.

"I told you to not come back. Not till you have it."

"That's not possible."

"You really came empty handed?" he looks up skeptical.

"Not empty," Biserka smiles, takes a blueberry pie from behind her, and gives it to him. He huffs but accepts the offering.

Soon after, he stands up and starts walking down a trail. Biserka follows him playfully. Her distance from the little boy becomes longer and longer with every step. She runs on the floriated road; a bed of white tulips and lilies is ahead of her. They wither and break as she stomps upon them. White catchflies grow behind her as she continues to run. Biserka reaches out her hand to get closer to the little boy, but he's only getting further and further away. The catchflies stick to Biserka's shoes and pants as she tries to walk between them. The big house at the end of the road begins to come to light. "No, don't go!" Biserka shouts, but her voice fades into the ever-growing flower bed. Now turning into a sea of roses, Biserka struggles to stay afloat. The sharp thorns of yellow roses pierce her skin while the little boy floats on top of the dark red ones.

Before she knows it, the little boy stands at the top of the big house holding a flaming torch. He drops the torch, and the building goes up to the flames, swallowing the little boy. The fire burns the flowers down to ashes, smoke rises, and the floral path turns into a devouring slime, sucking her in. The more she struggles, the more she sinks in till she disappears. From afar, she can see the little boy smirking at her.

She reaches for air only to choke on the moulded smell of blood. But can't find the source of the scent. A faceless person, an adult whose face keeps glitching, is sitting on top of her, wrapping their skinny hands full of old burnt marks around her neck. "None of this would happen if you just listened," the faceless adult laments. Biserka can't move and is stuck to the ground. She begs, "I--can't--breathe," but the grip only becomes stronger and stronger. The moment she's able to raise her arm to push the person away, her hand turns into a sharp blade and cuts through the chest of the person on top of her, now back to the burning boy again.

Feeling the weight of her body, Biserka tries to move herself, but she's paralyzed. On the second attempt, she tries to raise her arm; she still can vividly see the little boy from her dream. She's still standing there, somewhere, laughing at her. The dream is gone, but reality has not welcomed her yet. She's stuck between the two realms, the world of 'ifs and the real world. Her body has betrayed her; maybe her eyes will stay by her side. She tries to open her eyes, but something heavy is covering them. Something that softens her agony. A familiar sensation. It was a familiar and welcoming feeling, unlike the little girl, one that made her feel at ease, washing her sleep paralysis away. She's trying to remember where she is. She remembers an uneasiness, a moment of ambivalence where she saw all those colours and decided to ignore them. Right. She's met with the Levi guy and...ended up at Worick's slum. She concludes with herself, wondering if she's on the couch or the bed. Or rather, what's covering her eyes.

Now, she's awake enough to recognize the slim, strong, and massive hand on her eyes, even without the aura. It's just Nick...JUST NICK...the realization finally hits her. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. She quickly pulls herself down, opening her eyes. Blood rushes through her veins as she sits up, biting inside of her cheek.