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THE RAVEN ATTACKS AGAIN
I broke down on the cold ground and fell asleep, despite the extremely low temperature and the sharp air. I dreamt that an animal smelled my face. The snout of the wild being bothered me much and I wake up. He was a red fox that fled as I stood up. There were no traces of wolves around me. It was like if their bodies would have been of mist. I was almost frozen, very tired and could not to find an explanation to this fact. I threw my sight into the distant mountains. The peaks were snowy and shone very faintly under sunrise. The eastern sky was pink near the horizon and pale grey higher up. The Star of the Morning still hung in the South, the glowing celestial body in its spikes blazing like a diamond in the dawn, but the blacks, greys and silvers of the darkling forest were not fading under the weak light. I thought that, in spite of everything, it was a beautiful scene. Soon I had a change of opinion. I heard a distant voice that said, “He’s a raven. He eats corpses”. Panic returned to me and again I fell out of reality. I could not really see what was around me, but I could look at a strange landscape. I saw giant trees and ravines in night depths under the sea, and vortices of space where black ravens floated into shimmering of cold purple haze and beyond all else, I glimpsed an infinite area of darkness, where solid forms were faded on chaos.
Then I tripped against a rock, I fell, and the blow brought me back to the snowy forest where I was minutes before. I tried to see the man who talking, but was not possible. However, I heard that whispering voice now very close to me. “He's a raven. He eats corpses”. The voice terrified me. I decided to go back to the old house, but I saw nothing beyond three yards into the haze. I walked aimlessly, thinking that at any moment I would find a path that would take me back to my dwelling. However, it was not like this, I was in a kind of infinite white space, where fear was hovering over me. I hit the trunk of a tree, I fell to the ground, and when I lifted my face, I saw with horror a man dressed in black. A mask of crow covered his face. The raven on his shoulder bobbed its head and cawing: "Kill him. Kill him. Kill him."
He held up an axe on their hands. At the same time the air trembled with a vibration as of flapping wings, and a sudden east-blowing wind took off my hood. The man spoke slowly; his voice seemed like a tormented soul.
“I will plant my axe right between yours ugly eyes. The last thing that you hear will be the buzz when it bites into your skull.”
The raven on his shoulder echoed: “Your skull. Your skull. Your skull”.
The murderer laughed, mocked me, and wielded his axe, while the raven repeated: "Kill him. Kill him. Kill him".
Was plain to see what that evil guy enjoyed my situation, my misery, my fear, as if he was drinking the wine from the deities. The time seemed had stopped. The morning was creeping through the woods by the time a west wind blew through my tangled hair. The diabolical man had not decided yet to blow me with his axe.
