“Don’t be afraid, I’m not going to hurt you,” the man said, as he took a few steps toward me. He was tall, with a toned body, green eyes, and his brown hair tied back in a man bun.
“Who are you and why am I here?” I tried to give her voice a decisive tone although I was ready to faint from fear.
“I’m your destiny,” replied the man kindly.
“Are you nuts? How long have I been here?” I asked while clenching my fists.
“Do not worry, I'll explain everything,” the man said moving forward, closer to me.
“I don’t want you to explain anything, I just want you to open the door and let me leave,” I said and turned around to face again the huge door that led to my freedom. I was so confused. I could not understand how I ended up in that weird place, locked in with that strange man who talked to me like we had known each other for years. One minute, I was in Arthur’s underground apartment and the other I was in this pop art gothic mansion God knows where.
“Gwen,” he said, “I’m no stranger to you. We know each other very well.” He whispered close to my ear and his icy breath caressed my shoulder. “Don’t be afraid, I’m not going to hurt you,” he said, taking a few steps back to create a safety zone between us. “Let’s talk over a cup of tea,” he said before he started walking toward the back of the chamber.
A shiver ran through my body as I watched him disappear into the darkness of the vast hall. I was left alone in the huge room, but I couldn’t escape. At least so I thought and at least for the moment. Partly because I did not have any other option, partly out of curiosity, I decided to follow him to wherever he had gone. I started walking toward the back of the chamber and the sound of my heels broke the disturbing silence of the space.
“Turn right and open the door.” The stranger’s voice sounded in my mind.
“Great, he’s a telepath, too,” I groaned, knowing exactly what that meant. I had to block him from reading my thoughts. And I could not tell how easy that would be. Following his directions, I pushed the door and it opened. A gust of warm air hit my body as I entered an old-fashioned kitchen. A large lit hob warmed up the place nicely. Two stalls with kitchenware and a tawdry kitchen table with a few clay crockeries on it filled the place.
“Are you feeling cold?” the man said and offered to roll a red velvet robe over my shoulders. I did not know why, but I gladly let him do it. I passed my hands through the sleeves and wrapped the heavy cloth around my body. As the adrenaline started leaving my nervous system, I was beginning to realize how cold that place was.
The man pulled out a wooden chair near the table and dusted it. He nodded for me to sit down and went back to the hob. When he returned, he had a porcelain teacup in his hands. The smell of steaming hot tea filled my nostrils as he placed the cup in front of me. Next to the bowl, he put a silver teaspoon and a clean napkin.
“There is also cream and sugar; help yourself,” he said. “That’s what you are, cream and sugar.” A timid smile was painted on his face.
I looked at him, appalled. “You’re kidding, right?”
“About you having tea with me?” He looked confused.
“No, about that cream and sugar reference. Do you really think that cheesy flirting works with me?” I clenched my teeth.
The dimples in his cheeks deepened as he smiled. He sat in a chair opposite me. Under different circumstances, I would have called him handsome.
I reluctantly got the spoon in my hand and used it to stir the tea after I dropped a cube of sugar in it. I took a sip and wiped my mouth delicately with the napkin. I turned and looked at the man who was watching me with a polite smile on his face. Curiously, I now felt safe in his presence, as if he were not a stranger, as if I had not just met him. It was a feeling that I could not control, nor explain.
“What was in the tea? I asked as I tried to scan his mind. “The potion of truth? Sedatives?”
He laughed and it felt like he was genuinely entertained. Should I trust that guy? I did not know yet. In any case, I would not drink more of his tea. One sip was enough. And it did not kill me. Happy news!
I wrapped the robe tightly around my body, clasped my hands in front of my chest, and sat cross-legged. “I am ready. Now we can talk,” I said. A part of me wished it were a business meeting, although deep inside I knew that wasn’t true.
“I’m glad to hear that. I was looking forward to it,” he replied.
His emerald eyes exuded sweetness but they also gave away that his life had not been easy. More specifically, he looked like he had lived many lives, although he looked young, in his early thirties. The sparse beard, the man bun, and his jeans added a rocker’s touch to his look.
With serene movements, he stood up from his chair and moved close to me. “We have no time for dawdling. We have a lot to
