(Viewpoint: Chetan)
The figure does not move.
Me neither.
The black glass separates us.
She's watching me.
I'm watching him.
A grey mask.
Smooth.
No mouth.
Expressionless.
Two black openings in place of eyes.
I feel nothing.
No fear.
The Pit showed me far worse than motionless monsters.
I have seen men die for a piece of bread.
I have seen children forget their own names.
SO...
A mask behind a window is not enough to make my heart beat faster.
I slowly close my eyes.
I inhale.
J'expire.
Calm.
Always calm.
Silence returns.
...
I have to get out of here.
I tense the muscles in my arm.
A dull pain immediately shot through my shoulder.
My arm is trembling.
I can barely lift it a few centimeters.
Then...
Nothing more.
All my strength disappears. As if someone had drained my body of energy, I feel sluggish, very tired.
My arm falls heavily back onto the mattress.
I grit my teeth.
Again.
This time, I try to straighten my torso.
My abdominal muscles are contracting.
My back barely leaves the bed.
One second later.
My vision is blurring.
The white of the room blends in.
My breathing quickens.
Then I fall back down.
Breathless.
Impossible...
My legs also refuse to respond.
Could I crawl?
I try to start, but my body refuses.
Each movement steals more of my strength.
It was as if this room held me prisoner.
...
I turn my eyes back towards the window.
The mask is still there.
Immobile.
He hasn't left his seat, he doesn't seem to be in a hurry.
I'm mentally counting the seconds.
A.
Two.
Three.
Then...
I'm moving forward.
With a single movement, I barely moved a meter.
Silence.
I blinked and caught my breath.
He was gone a second ago.
Yet my gaze never left him.
One more move.
Very slow.
- ha !
The mask suddenly reappeared.
The grey of her face seems to absorb all the light.
I hold my breath.
Still no noise.
I look at the ground.
I looked up and acted as if nothing had happened.
Yet he is even closer.
Impossible.
The glass should be several meters away.
Why do I have the feeling that he is almost in front of me?
...
I try to get up again.
My body refuses.
My hands are trembling.
A chilling weakness rises in my arms.
Even breathing becomes difficult.
I feel my heart slowing down.
This is not normal.
It was then that I lowered my eyes towards the IV drip.
The liquid continues to flow.
Drop.
After a drop.
I want to pull this needle out.
My fingers refuse to obey me.
I collapse from exhaustion onto the bed
…
When I raise my head…
- ha ?
The mask is right in front of me.
I can make out the tiny scratches on its surface.
Two black holes are staring at me.
They seem bottomless.
I still can't hear anything.
Yet...
I have the feeling that he is speaking to me.
Speechless.
Speechless.
Like a presence that imposes itself directly on my mind.
I can't look away.
...
The mask slowly tilts the head.
Exactly like a predator observing wounded prey.
Then...
A white hand rests on my shoulder.
Immediately, I feel a pinching sensation against my chest.
Pressure.
As if the air were becoming heavier.
I can no longer breathe properly.
My vision is becoming covered in black spots.
The mask is getting closer.
He should be behind the glass.
I want to back up.
My body is no longer responding.
The mask is getting closer.
...
His forehead rested on my nose.
I jump.
Everything disappears.
The mask.
The window.
The room.
White.
I sit up abruptly.
A pain immediately shot through my entire body.
My breathing is ragged.
I look around me.
The ceiling.
The bed.
Perfusion.
The white room.
I close my eyes for a second.
A dream.
Another dream.
I let out a breath.
My heart rate finally slows down.
I was already daydreaming...
I run a trembling hand over my face.
Ridicule...
I slowly turn my head towards the window.
...
My breath catches.
The mask is still there.
Immobile.
Behind the black glass.
He's looking at me.
But this time...
Am I sure I'm awake?