The Eternal Doom

Chapter 18. Dreams revealing the reality of mirrors

The whispers of angels echoed in the night. "Tell me, GOD, HOW does descend midnight bring the depth of your charm to the immortal world? oh, how do the shadows awake in the moonlight? tell us how the mortal world turns into an immortal dream? tell us how the silence makes the whispers grow for you? tell us, god, where you lay the angel of death to sleep?" far away between the boundary of dark hollowed woods in the middle of the green emerald sea, there the angel is sleeping, with the velvet night covering him, and the dim light of the moon struggling

through the dark trees. "Tell us, God, if the angel of

death is still breathing, somewhere in the dreams of the immortals. Tell the immortals how You make the moon to glow in its diffused light, invading the dark sky as if the angels were landing behind it. Oh, Lord, tell the immortals how the ravens fly, and why their shadows chase them below on the earth while they remain in the sky. Tell them, lord, how the world in dreams possesses a strange reality? tell them, lord, why the holy ghost became a devil, and why the humans became their own gods? who plays in the night?" it was dawn and Stephen was sitting on the chair next to the window, with his eyes pondering slightly in the flash of that nightmare. the imploring whispers of Mr. Erick to Della echoed in the hall every night, reminding Stephen that the lives of many people have disintegrated because of him. the face of Della appeared in front of him. "where are you, Stephen?" he heard her voice in memory, appearing from somewhere through the rolling mist, gathering around the trees. "Stephen,

come find me, she called again, from behind the trees. The place was so damned silent, and Della was hiding. The leaves were falling; they were playing in the same way as they both used to play in their childhood, since from then on they never left off playing that game, just as they never left off their childhood; and they chose the same place to play in, a secluded place far behind in the distance from Chapel Street, where the surface used to be covered with small wild bushes and leaves, which fall day and night from the trees. And there the two fragile souls played, at the time when the immortal world used to be the mortal.

Stephen was sitting, still feeling the voice of Della calling him to play. "Soon you will come back, Della, soon you will be here with your father," he whispered quietly, standing alone and then he beckoned back from the window, with the memory of her. The days and the weeks passed by; the night brought up some strange whispers to the immortal world. The immortals were wondering over themselves as if feeling lost in the darkness. IT was a blurred sky, standing overhead like a grey night, with heavy force in it, where the silent and forcible wind was lingering under it; and there Stephen was standing, on the grey curling street of dark pebbles. The place had such a heavy force. He stood with his vision transfixed on the wide-open entrance of some huge and blurred building, more like some ethereally royal place. The forcible wind seemed to carry the world around him; the palace seemed high from the earth as he reached its entrance. Something was isolating his soul; his vision chased the rusty fields, stretching on both sides of that place. It seemed as if something was hidden under them, as he could feel the shimmer of existence, but what? He was standing as if he was bound to stand there. The forcible wind tingled over his face; he felt the shadow of a wolf passing across him in a glimpse, and disappearing somewhere into the rusty fields, stretching with the grey night sky shedding its light over them. He stood there, unable to move from there as if something were holding his soul until he heard the same mysterious voice. "It's your world; come inside, Stephen!"