From nowhere, a figure materialized—crafted from rose stems with blooming petals, the sculpture of a person who seemed somehow still alive. It reached toward me, rooted in place yet bearing the detailed features of a face and taut neck muscles, its mouth frozen in a scream. I collapsed to the ground in terror, my vision blurring with shock.
As I lay there gasping, the silence around the thorny houses began to crack. First came a distant giggle, then another—the unmistakable sound of small children at play. Balls bounced rhythmically against walls, accompanied by joyful laughter that seemed to emanate from within those very houses I'd thought were abandoned. The contrast was maddening: the horror of the rose sculpture still burned in my mind while innocent childhood sounds filled the air around me. I couldn't tell whether to be frightened or comforted by this impossible contradiction.
The voices and laughter grew clearer, closer, until I could hear footsteps circling me like curious children gathering around something unusual. I spun in every direction, trying to locate them, but saw nothing—only heard their whispered conversations: "What's wrong with him? Is he lost? Poor thing. Get him out of here quickly!"
Suddenly, excruciating pain seized the center of my chest, as if someone were gripping my heart like a handful of sand. I fell writhing to the ground, tears streaming from my eyes in agony. I pounded the earth with one hand while clutching my chest with the other, kicking at the ground with both feet. I couldn't even manage to scream or make a sound from my throat. My eyes wept so heavily I could see nothing but fractured light refracting through my tears. I felt as though I were being torn from life itself. I tried to scream with everything I had, but no sound emerged. The pain only intensified—surely this must be the end. It was impossible for there to be greater agony than this.
Then, as abruptly as it had begun, the pain vanished. The crushing weight in my chest lifted, my tears ceased their flow, and my vision slowly cleared. But something had changed—the sky that moments before had been filtered through my tears of agony now stretched above me as a deep night canvas, punctuated by strange orange light seeping through heavy clouds.
The transition felt dreamlike, impossible. I tried to move my head, but my neck felt leaden, and I realized I was lying flat against cold ground. Above me, tiny crimson specks drifted down like gentle snow—rose petals, I realized, as they settled on my face with ethereal softness. Each petal that touched my skin seemed to carry away a fragment of the pain I'd endured.
When I blinked and opened my eyes again, reality had shifted once more. The familiar forest surrounded me, the daylight returned, and the agony was nothing but a fading memory. I felt along my body cautiously—nothing seemed damaged. The memory of that crushing chest pain felt distant now, almost unreal. Driven by an urgent need to escape this place of shifting realities, I leaped to my feet and began running toward where I'd left the car. Each stride carried me faster until I was sprinting with desperate intensity, my kneecaps jarring against each other with every impact. Steam rose from my breath as I pushed my body to its limits, leaving a trail of vapor in my wake.
The familiar road appeared ahead, and I should have felt relief. Instead, dread crept up my spine as I realized something was terribly wrong. What I saw bore little resemblance to the scene I'd left behind. My frantic pace slowed to a hesitant walk, then stopped entirely as the full horror became clear.
The car had been transformed beyond its original shape, covered in thorny roots extending from the forest. The thorns had already punctured the tires and shattered the windows, creeping until they had completely enveloped the car. I could no longer distinguish its details except for the edges of its frame.
The movement of the roots changed. They tightened their grip on the car until I could hear cracking and pressure against its steel frame. Suddenly they altered their pattern—after completely crushing the car, they relaxed the section extending along the road from the forest's right edge to the vehicle. Then they held perfectly still without any detectable movement. Without warning, they hurled the car back into the forest from which they came, launching it like a projectile into the distance.
I could do nothing but stand with my mouth agape, my voice stuttering as it tried to explain what I was seeing without the slightest idea of what was happening. Fear took hold of me, creeping through my body, and I couldn't stop it. My body refused to move, surrendering completely to my terror. But I soon realized this fear had already drained my strength.
I lowered my head and began breathing more and more deeply, but the shortness of breath increased as if piercing my chest. I trembled, shook, my breathing quavered. I drew both knees between my arms and curled around myself on the road like a stray puppy. The tip of my chin trembled in a failed attempt to suppress my grief and fear of being lost and the horror of what was happening around me, but my eyes couldn't contain their terror—they wept. I don't know how to explain it. It's strange that I would shed tears from fear of something, yet I wept from a sorrow I couldn't identify, something simply accumulated inside me. The tears touched my cheek, sliding down to my neck. But who was I fooling? I had no power in this place. I didn't know who I was, what my name was, who I might be, or how to explain what I had witnessed.
I tried to stand and overcome this panic attack. Yes, I managed with difficulty to get to my feet. Only my body stood upright; my consciousness wasn't present, too preoccupied. In an attempt to calm my inner turmoil, this place hadn't even given me a chance to collect myself. I could sense that the atmosphere around me had changed—it had become more savage. Suddenly, a fierce wind struck with force for several seconds; I couldn't even open my eyes after it passed. The lighting throughout the area dimmed, as did the color saturation, shifting from a partially cloudy morning to a winter day threatening a wild storm. The dark forest became more sinister and terrifying.
**Minutes later:**
I felt something sticky, wet, cold, and smooth touching my face—a pleasant sensation as it brushed against my cheek. My ears returned to distinguishing sounds... I could make out quiet, soothing yet powerful sound vibrations that I could feel resonating in my depths. I opened my eyes without thinking, extremely slowly. I did this, but intense light blocked my line of sight, making it impossible to open my eyes because of it. I could tell it emanated from a massive entity facing me. I could distinguish the edges of its body. It spoke to me in a deep, masculine voice: "Forgive me, stranger. My light must be too bright. I'm sorry."
Its glow gradually diminished, and the image before me became somewhat clearer. I wish it hadn't! This was not a human being like me. I screamed: "I-it's a giant jellyfish floating before me!" Over five meters tall. I shouted with all my strength and ran randomly everywhere, here and there.
The jellyfish: "Sir, sir, please calm down. I know you're a stranger to this place and have never seen such a creature before. Please stop running around."
I grabbed the nearest thick branch I could carry to defend myself, but the jellyfish continued trying to calm me. I couldn't even speak—I tried to escape from it while screaming. It surrounded the area with its enormous tentacles, many times larger than my body. There was no longer any way to flee from it.
I felt trapped with no escape route. Then my instincts took control, and it happened very quickly. With a steady step, I advanced toward it, and with one focused leap from my position directly at it, I pounced with a tight fist, ready to break the branch over its head. I didn't realize how lightning-fast its tentacles were. I discovered I was no longer gripping a branch but scattered ash before it could touch the ground. It held me with its tentacles, but not with severe pressure on my body—all it did was restrain my movement to stop me from trying to escape. I attempted to twist my arms but to no avail. Then it shouted at me: "If I wanted to crush you, I would have done so the moment I met you! There's no need for all this conflict!"
I calmed down a little after realizing the extent of its power and that it was holding me very gently—if it had wanted to crush me, it would have done so before my pathetic attempt to flee. It lowered me to the ground and even straightened my clothes. We both breathed a sigh of relief, and it placed its lower tentacles over each other and asked me to sit. I complied with its request, crossed my legs, and silence filled the place. It looked directly at me, though I couldn't tell where its eyes were as I stared at what I assumed was its gelatinous face. I hadn't noticed it was wearing a black leather hat positioned at the top of its head. It lifted the hat and produced tea cups, cake, and pastries that were still fresh.
The jellyfish: "Let us calm down and talk now, shall we? My name is Vika, the Flying Jellyfish. I'm not here to harm anyone. I'm merely a guide for lost souls like yourself and someone who answers the questions that occur to them, just as questions are multiplying inside your head. But before we begin asking questions, you look a bit pale—no, shocked. I know this expression; it's the face all passersby make when they see me for the first time. Let me pour you some tea. I carry the finest teas for such situations. You certainly need some chamomile tea—it's perfect for relaxing tense nerves."