I Can Hear Your Heart

13. Rostas

That night it rained still hard. A man stepped limped out of his car which had been smashed due to a fatal accident that hit him. Fortunately, he felt fine. Gamang he stepped down through the vast and dense forest that seemed to be without edges. Only moonlight and anger accompanied him. There was no sound in the woods. Silent and lonely.

"Look I'm alive even though you tried to kill me, God!" He screamed in anger.

Then a thick fog came slowly forming a human figure-like appearance. But the white light that enveloped him did not make it clear. "God loves you."

"Who are you?"

"I'm just a servant who was sent to pick you up." The man nodded. His body reflexively pushed backwards. "He wants you with him. You're dead." Dugm! The man's body fell to the ground in a sitting position. He looked at the creature with fear and unwillingness. "Come with me."

"I'm alive, God damn it! I'm still alive!" screeched while shuffling with his butt away from the white misty creature. Then slowly he got up and completely fled. He ran so far that even his footsteps unknowingly led him into the deeper woods. The moonlight, which was only a quarter unable to penetrate the grove of trees, was like a shield of darkness. He only stopped when he realized the creature was no longer chasing him.

Somehow then his ears caught the clinking sounds of Javanese gamelan as if calling him to get closer. There was a mystical scent in the voice that was like a heart charm. The man said, his feet stepping until he arrived at a small hut in the middle of the forest.

A beautiful woman and a middle-aged man greeted him at the entrance. They wore traditional clothes, looked beautiful and dashing, but strangely their body odor was almost the same as the smell of Cambodian flowers at funerals and the smell of carrion.

He's welcome in. Entering the house - different from the outside, the house looks big, but only looks like a large field without a bulkhead. There was a kitchen there with clay cauldrons, there were potpourri flowers thrown in the streets that she would pass like a bride. And he only realized in the middle of the room was a middle-aged man, not looking too old - he was stuck in front of a mat covered in a long white and black cloth. Mouths muttering. I don't know what's behind that two-color cloth.

Then a pair of men who let two into the house, let him sit in front of the mat, right in front of the middle-aged man whose mouth was incessantly kamit. Then he smelled a very foul smell from behind the cloth in front of him. She's puking.

There was fear lingering in his chest upon seeing all that, maybe he too late realized that this was strange. That those people don't look good. Then his fear increased with shock when the two men opened the cloth cover mat, there was a figure of a stiff rolled body there with a smashed face and it had rotted giving off an even more severe pungent scent.

He knew that figure from the clothes, watches and shoes he wore. That guy is himself. Rostas.

"Who are you?" rosta asked trembling, cold sweat pouring down her forehead. He's very scared. He wanted to run like he did to the angel of death, but his body was too stiff, as if something was holding onto him until he could not even move.

"You were dead three days ago."

The deg!

The man who had been talking to us stopped chanting his spell and answered him casually. His voice was as heavy as coming from another realm.

"We are friends. And your question is wrong: not what we want from you, but what you want from you. We heard your voice while resisting death."

"You mean?"

"You called us."

"I didn't call you guys."

Dugm!

A white mist emerged from the window of the house. Rosta's eyes could see the fog, the angel of death waiting for him outside this house. He doesn't want to die. There is still a lot he wants to do, there is still a lot he wants to do, there is still a lot he wants to achieve and there is still hatred he wants to repay. She wants Iko to mourn for daring to snatch her lover Niken. He wants Niken to mourn for daring to betray him by having an affair with Iko. He wanted those two dead creatures not himself!

"You sure what you want?" the man spoke again. Rosta nodded. Right at that moment he saw the angel of death staring at him with sadness and then slowly disappearing. "This covenant is sealed with your blood and you cannot retreat. From today all your wishes will be fulfilled. You will be the only high-class property agent in the country, you will have an abundance of wealth that will not even run out until the dozens of descendants from which you remain loyal to your Master. Do you agree?"

Rosta nodded. He then saw the man grabbing something from his pocket. Then the air became colder, too cold as if the snow season in the European Continent had now moved to this place. The wind was blowing so hard that the leaves of the trees were flapping in fear as if they wanted to escape from the tree trunk and run from the forest.

The man cast a spell getting louder and louder, the louder the sound of the wind blowing out there. The atmosphere became increasingly tense when a large tree out there slammed down and made a loud boom. If Rosta still has a beating heart, he believes his heart can be dislodged right now.

Then somehow his soul was sucked into his rotten and broken body. He's come back to life. He had just risen from his sleep when a dagger grabbed his arm. Sabetan was so fast that he didn't even get to protest. His blood poured down a magic paper that appeared out of nowhere to hold his blood and disappeared.

"A covenant has been made, you can't back down anymore or you will die in horror. Calculated from today, in a week you will have to hand over a woman as a tumbar to your new life. Then every month on the full moon of the first week you have to get it ready again. You can't do good. There is no marriage because marriage is a covenant between two men and God, there is no helping others except to show off your wealth and your property. Do what God hates. Not havent forgiveness for your enemy. That's your master's order now."

Rosta fainted that night. When he woke up in the morning he was in a dirty little shabby hut in the middle of a pine forest. The only valuable item in the house was a display cabinet. In the closet looks dusty glass bottles somehow contains what. He stared at her face from the reflection of the glass in the closet. Handsome and neat. There was no sign that yesterday his body had rotted and his face was badly damaged.

He is ready for a wild and violent free life. God will not stop him this time.

"You happy?" the sound is heavy. A middle-aged man poked out from behind the closed door of the hut. He's the shaman or should I say witch? Whatever the name.

I stole the memory from Rosta's mind and now I look at him in horror.