sâmbătă, 8 aprilie 2017

Cătun.


În ultima perioadă, am început să scriu povești. M-am gândit să postez primul capitol dintr-o poveste de groază la care lucrez de ceva vreme. Am să postez în fiecare săptămână câte un capitol și, dacă va strânge destule vizualizări, atunci am să postez și următorul capitol. Orice comentariu pozitiv sau negativ va fi folosit în îmbunătățirea textului și a blogului în general. Vă doresc o săptămână plăcută și, un început de primăvară cât mai reușit!
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Drepturile de autor pentru desen îmi aparțin.

Cătun



I think I might be going crazy. I have no other explanation for what I am about to tell you. I can only say that for the last two weeks I barely got any sleep, lost my job, my girlfriend, and my joy of life.

It all started like I mentioned a couple of weeks ago. I was with my girlfriend.

I come from a small village in Romania, deep in the Carpathian Mountains, near a monastery. Life is pretty bleak here, especially during the fall as the place does not draw many tourists. The village is also semi-deserted, as a lot of adult population here had gone many years ago to work in countries such as Germany, Italy or England in order to be able to send money back home. This is a rather common thing in Romanian villages, as life here is pretty bleak and parents face no other alternative other than working as cab drivers, cleaning ladies or nannies in more developed countries, even if many of such individuals are highly educated.

Such villages are thus, filled with the elderly, children, and very few adults. Life is bleak, like I said. You can rarely hear a car passing by, a child laughing or someone having a party. Maybe other villages are not so deserted like this one, maybe I am exaggerating by generalizing, but what I know for sure is that my village was such a place. It is called “Cătun”. Don’t bother looking it up. It’s not marked on the map. And it’s better that you never find out how to get here.

Actually, I would be surprised if any Romanian, other than the ones living in neighboring villages, would know about this place. It is so small that, other than a mini-market, a church, and a couple of houses, the village contains nothing more. The view is astonishing. Imagine living in an extremely small rural area, surrounded by massive mountains, trees, with no other connection to the main road other than a poorly cemented road, meant only for small cars. There are no plains, but only mountains. It is like the village itself, had carved its shape into the mountains, like a river in stone. 

I don’t live here anymore, but my grandparents do. I occasionally visit them and I never stop being wooed by the terrifyingly dominant nature of this place.

I decided one day, to take my girlfriend and show her where I grew up. I don’t live in Romania anymore, and I rarely visit my grandparents. I explained to her that it’s not going to be a very diverse and fun visit, but maybe we could go hiking and spend a night in the woods. I knew the mountains, the woods, and how to avoid brown bears like the palm of my hand, as I grew up there.
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We rented a car from the closest city after we arrived in the country, and drove to “Cătun”. You have to drive on the main road for an hour or so, before the cemented road becomes more and more damaged, like it just got bombarded. I can’t imagine how the truck which provides for the village mini-market manages to cross this road. The people in this village rarely go to the city, so the use of a car is not so common around this area. Like I said, I grew up here and I can tell you it wasn’t always like this. Ever since adults started fleeing the place, after communism collapsed in 1989, the rural area became more, and more…neglected.


The time to reach the village isn’t long after the roads become more deteriorated. At some point, high, Rocky Mountains can be sighted in the far. On the left and right side of the road, trees become more and more thick, closer to each other, and climb the mountain which start immediate after the margins of the road. It is like, a butter has been cut with a knife, and build a road right where the cut has been made, or like, a thick and long crater. It is astonishing really. The only way you can see the sky is if you look 90 degrees up. It is not very pleasant if you are claustrophobic but…astonishing indeed.

After 5 minutes of driving through this gate of nature, the space surrounding the road immediately spreads giving space for a small hill, on which the village is built, surrounded by high, Rocky Mountains, covered in forests with the road leading up to the hill. All you can hear are river sounds, birds, and the roar of the car which goes like a monstrous machine from the future in this place which time seems to stay in place. An eerie feeling fills my stomach the moment I roll down the window. An eerie feeling of mysticism, surrealism. It is like I just traveled back in history. It felt isolated. I know I grew up here but, I don’t recall so much quietness, quietness from people’s activity. Plus I only lived here until I was 10. 

We had to park our car at the end of the road, as the village had only dirt roads. There was no need, there were no more than 10 old houses.  There were another 10 houses but they seemed deserted, crushed by the emptiness of time, offering food for imagination on how this mystical place used to look like a couple of decades ago, when it was populated, and when children were running around, laughing and playing, and when people used to walk these dirt roads, talking, working, offering life to this still rural fauna. 

There was nobody outside. Only old people lived here now. This made the place more eerie. Looking at the empty village, the mountains, the forests, and the sounds of birds and a nearby river, it really brought up to me the feeling of a place which time forgot. A place where anything could happen and there would be nobody to witness it.

-“Ok, so where is your grandparent’s house sweetie?” asked Clara.

As we started climbing the hill, we could see the houses more clearly now.
-“It’s the third one on the left. With green walls.”

-“You should have told them you are coming. That’s what I think. You don’t want to bring surprises to people this old. How old are they?”

-“I think 100 years. And I couldn’t announce them anyways. They don’t have a phone”.
-“They don’t have a phone?!? How do they communicate with the outside then? What if one of them gets sick?”

-“There is one truck which comes weekly for the mini-market here. That’s how. They talk to the driver. He usually helps them communicate with their grand-sons, on so on “.

-“That, is so weird” said Clara in a quiet voice.

Clara was breathing a little heavy, quietly hyperventilating, as climbing the hill wasn’t so easy. She wasn’t complaining though. She was a tough woman and didn’t wanted to complain in such a moment. One could only imagine how some old people are able to go up and down such a hill in order to reach their houses. But I guess, one can only get used to such a life.

-“I can’t imagine how you were able to live in such a place. So, ripped apart from technology, and from civilization. Don’t get me wrong Michael but the fact that I know you work in an IT company, at the 48thy floor in a 50 stories high building, makes me feel dumbfounded seeing where you lived the first 10 years of your life”. Said Clara, slightly breaking her promise from a second ago to not complain, but I guess she was just, like she said, dumbfounded. I never told her in detail about my early childhood, mostly because; well…I didn’t want to. There were some things I didn’t felt comfortable to tell anyone, even to a friend or a lover.

-“Well I quickly left the place after my 10th birthday. Remember I told you my parents came back for me from England and took me to live there with them. Besides I didn’t know any better back then”.

-“Can’t imagine how you felt being in a big city like London for the first time after living here.”
-“It was like taking a man from the 1800 hundreds directly to the 21st century”, said Michael laughing with difficulty, as he was also a little tired from climbing the hill.

-“Well I suppose you…” Clara stopped. “What was that?”

- “A lonesome bear” Said Michael laughingly.

Deep in the forests, a growl could be heard. But only for a couple of seconds. “Well, it is mating season for bears you know. Ah, looks like we’re here!”

And there it was.

It looked like a Victorian village, too small to be called a village, but it did looked Victorian. Almost like a city from those computer strategy games, where there is a limit of 8 to 10 houses per settlement. The order of the buildings was also chaotic. There wasn’t a clear way between the structures, and even if it were to have cemented roads, there wouldn’t be any way to create a clear path. Only dusty, sometimes grassy top of the hill, where God mistakenly added a couple of houses. And a mini-market. It really looked like a “Cătun”.

-“Can’t imagine how this place looks during rainy season”. Said Clara little disturbed now by the chaos of the village. “And where is the Monastery. You said there is a monastery here.”
Michael pointed his finger on top of one of the mountains surrounding the hill. There you could see, hiding behind the massive mountain trees, some red rooftops, and an Orthodox cross, looking over the whole region.

-“There are people living there?!? How do they get from there to here?”

-“They don’t. Well rarely. They mostly eat on the pigs, cows and sheep which live up there. It’s more like a monk place, if you will. This is a place of meditation Clara as you can see. There is little to no stress here. Let’s just say this is the smaller version of Athos Mountain in Khalkidhiki” Said Michael jokingly.

-“Ok so where is your grandparents house. There is literally, no one here. I’m looking through the windows and there is no one Michael. Are you sure they aren’t dead or something. Maybe we should go to the mini-market. There it is!”

-“Calm down Cass. They’re here. They’re just too old to be aware of their surroundings. I think almost everyone here is 100. Their children and grandchildren are all gone. Who would venture here to see a 100 year old grandparent or great-grandparent?”
-“So, weird”, said Clara again, in a low tone.

-“Ah, there it is!” Said Michael with a confident tone, pointing his finger again.

There it was. A small, ground floored only house. With green, painted walls and a grey rooftop. There was also a small porch where you could fit two chairs, maybe for those sunny summer days, where one wouldn’t be able to stay in the house all day, and would rather enjoy a glass of cold beer. The windows looked old, cracked from corner to corner, and the draperies were covering the back of the windows, not giving out any glimpse of what was inside. The walls were also cracked from place to place, like an earthquake tried to shatter the building sometime in the past, but failed. There were flowers on the left and right side of the stairs leading to the porch, but they were dead. Probably because people so old can barely walk to the bathroom.

- “Knock Knock”.
Michael knocked on the door as it was locked. “Hey, granma’, grandpa’! It’s me Michael! Are you home?” Cried Michael in an attempt to draw their attention. Most probably their hearing wasn’t so good anymore. Nothing. No answer.

-“Hey maybe there is a back door” Said Clara
.
-“Good idea.” Said Michael.

They both went about to the back of the house at the other door. Once there, you could clearly see a dog house on one of the corners of the lawn.

-“That must be Skyppy. I remember they just bought a dog when I came here last time, 15 years ago. You can go and greet Skyppy if you want. But I don’t think he would be much of a company. He’s should be old already by now”.

Michael went inside of the house, as the door was opened on trial, and Clara went to the small dog house. It was a fragile wooden structure. Dusted and dirty with mud. Clara approached the small house and crouched in order to see inside.

-“Hey, Skippy, doggie. Are you there?” Said Clara in a cute voice. “Hey, is anyone home?” Said again Clara, inserting her head inside as it could be seen there was a dog inside, standing still. “Hey Skippy, are you sleeping? Are you…

Oh my God! OH. MY. GOD!”

Clara immediately stormed her head out of the house, dropping on her back on the muddy ground, with a shocking expression on her face. The dog, was dead. And it looked to be dead for some time…it was partly decomposed and had worms crawling on the body of the animal. The flowers were also dead. “This place is not right!” Thought Clara in her panic rush.

-“Michael. Michael! Are you inside?” Cried Clara, now feeling dread for being there in the back of the house, all by herself.

-“Michael!”

“Yes. Yeah”. Responded Michael, with a hollow voice.

- “Don’t come inside Clara. Just, just don’t. They…they’ve passed away…for some time”.

-“Oh my God Michael. What kind of place is this?!?...Sorry”. Said Clara, apologizing immediately after realizing that what she said might have offended Michael.

-“It’s a place filled with old people. Like I said. Let’s just go…”

-“Wait, are we going to leave them here? Did you know Skippy is also dead?”

Michael looked with a sad expression at Clara, sighing in disappointment as he wanted so much to experience nostalgia, rather than dread. “There is no phone signal here. I want to call my parents to tell them, plus I can’t do anything right now about them”.

-“At least let’s go to the mini-market and get some candles. You know…for the dead.”

-“Alright”. Sighed Michael again.

They went to the mini-market which was in the center of all this chaotic structure, and this eerie environment which quickly became disturbing for Clara . She just wanted to leave this place as soon as possible. When they reached the store, there was nobody inside selling, or buying.

There wasn’t anyone, anywhere. The village was deserted. The market was all dusty and muddy, and although there were products placed on the counter, they looked like they went bad. That meant that even the truck didn’t come to the village for a while. Michael didn’t know all of this. He should have documented himself before coming here. He had no contact whatsoever with this place or the country for years as he had no living relatives besides his grandparents, now passed away. He felt so stupid and awkward now, that he had to witness such a sight after all these years and what was worse, was that he took his girlfriend along the way. What a sight indeed for a girl which never laid foot in Romania.
-“Michael, I think the whole village is deserted”, said Clara, as she laid her eyes on a window of a small, brownish house, just across the small mini market. As she approached the window, there were no curtains and there was a clear sight of the inside of the house. A small, rural, typical Romanian room, with one bed, one table, a chair and a carpet on the wall for decoration purposes. On the bed, lying face up, was an old couple. They seemed to stand still.

-“Michael…I think they are dead. I think all the houses are filled with dead people!” Cried Clara as she trembled at the realization of seeing dead people. She never got a chance to see her grandparent’s dead, as she was too little when they passed away and as for her parents, they were both alive. A strong sense of dread filled her body now, starting from her spine towards the back of her head. Michael came along to watch what she had just witnessed and asked her to step aside. He knew she felt significantly more uncomfortable being there than him. He felt guilty, and disappointed. He also wanted to leave that place but he had to think about a proper burial for his grandparents. And to also let his parents know. Maybe he would go to the monastery. But Clara would never approve to a 3-hour hike under these conditions.

Michael approached the front door. He wanted to make sure these people were actually dead. He knew them. He knew the house. He used to play with their grandson when he was a little boy, thus he wanted to make sure these people were indeed passed away.

As Michael pressed his fingers on the door knob, he suddenly realized it was unlocked. Clara was waiting outside, trying to calm herself down, thinking only about leaving this place for good. As he entered the room, a strong, foul smell filled his nostrils and he quickly covered his nose with his sleeve. He wanted to back up fast but something caught his eyes. He approached the two corpses, facing up…eyeless. The corpses had no eyes.
And as he looked more closely, they lacked fingers and the woman…had her face…chewed… like a face made out of play-dough, which was chewed up by a dog…it was horrendous. It was awful! This could never have happened by nature. This looked, human made.

In one breath, Michael ran out of the house, and went straight to his grandparents’ house. Clara followed behind him, dumbfounded at his silence when she asked what was happening. As Michael entered his grandparents’ house again, he went straight to the bed, where they were lying, face up…exactly like the other couple. There they were, sleeping in silence. But then he looked closely. He carefully and slowly uncovered the bed sheets covering up their bodies, only to reveal that…it was eaten. It looked like the bodies had been eaten by a creature, and then covered them back, leaving them there. Their expression looked peaceful, not scared, so most probably it happened while sleeping. Michael put his sleeve again to cover his nostrils, as the smell was unbearable.

-“I think we should leave. Now!” Said Michael as he stormed out of the back door.

-“I know…but what happened. What did you see Michael?” asked Clara anxiously.

-“I think there are too many bears here. It’s not safe.” Said Michael not wanting to say any more.

-“So you are saying these people have…had…had been eaten?!?” Cried Clara now feeling more panic in her chest. Her anxiety was kicking in, and Michael knew this. He didn’t want to scare Clara too much as she was prone to panic attacks and couldn’t handle anxious situations.

-“Let’s just leave” Said Michael, now in calm, calculated tone.

They went down the hill in silence, surrounded by those eerie nature sounds. It was almost dawn, and animal sounds were less and less audible. Only the wind and the nearby river could be heard now, bringing and even more mystical feeling in the air. There were also no street lights, and Michael had only one flash-light, in his backpack. The moment they reached back the car, there was a breath of release both on their side. They just closed the door, in silence, and started the car. Michael turned the key in ignition, the car coughed a couple of times and then…it died.

-“What the hell? No, no, no, no.”. Michael turned the key again, and again, and again.

-“Fuck!” Yelled Michael, slamming the steering wheel.

-“The car won’t budge!”…

-“Maybe we…we…could…p-p-push the c-c-car” Babbled Clara. She was visibly in shock. The way back to the nearest village on foot would had took at least an hour and it was getting darker and darker. Being just frightened that the whole village could had been eaten by wild bears wasn’t too appealing to her, and she would had never left that car.

-“Shhh. It’s alright Clara. Come here. It’s going to be alright. Come here”. Said Michael, gently pushing Clara’s head on his chest, and slowly patting her head.

-“Shhh. Breathe deeply. It’s going to be alright. Take it as a wacky adventure, which we’re going to tell to our friends when we’re back in London. They won’t even believe us right?” Said Michael, trying to smile, but it was a fake smile. He too was a little terrified. Deep down in the woods, somewhere in the nearby mountains, a growl was heard again, just like when they first arrived, a couple of hours ago. Clara tightened her grip around Michael, visibly trembling. The howl this time…sounded more like a scream, or a yell, an angry yell. The yelling you hear in war movies…



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