The life’s report of the terrible creature, who lives in a dark cave, called Loid is a book, or a post on a blog, or a follow-up of 0s and 1s in the hologram of reality, an endless story that goes nowhere and is all, following the day, or night, or nothing, of a being who is also none, or all, or a man, or a reptile, or a bird, or simply a monster. A day in which he walks through a dark cave, or a forest, or an old house, and finds in his way characters like Alice from Wonderland, Adolf Hitler and a door.
- Blood …
– Blood …
Blood is all that sees in its hands the terrible creature, who lives in a dark cave, and is known by the people of a nearby village as the “Terrible Creature that lives in a Dark Cave.” But, however, it has no name, for being completely nameless, although in fact, it really likes to call itself “Loid”. And that’s how it will be named in this account of its life, that in its publication – if this has not already occurred, or rather, if it ever really does occur – it will be – or is or will never be – Life report of the Terrible Creature, who lives in a Dark Cave, called Loid”.
Let us return to this important account. So, who is Loid? What it’s like? Why is it so feared by the people of the nearby village? I believe I had not previously mentioned the fear of the people of the nearby village, but that is not important now. These are questions to be answered in the near future, or perhaps never, or perhaps have already been answered, and you reader simply forgot them. But what is important now is the blood that is in the hands of our dear Loid. Why dear? You will get this answer by reading this report, or maybe not! Maybe you’ll learn to call it the terrible Loid. Who can really say what kind of judgment will you draw from this fateful, perhaps joyful, perhaps tedious account? Certainly not me. Probably not at all you.
I see that it already took me too long to start this story, so let’s get back to the starting point. Where is our dear Loid? In its dark cave, which it does not own, since Loid does not belong and nothing can belong. Loid sees his hands, or paws, or claws, or hooks, or wings, or fins, or simultaneously all, or none at all, covered with blood, which comes from its skin, which is equal to that of a mammal, or bird, or reptile, or insect, or fish, or constantly all, or simultaneously none. Loid murmurs a single word in the immensity of the dark cave and the sound is repeated:
– Blood … Blood … Blood …
Loid knows why he is bleeding, for it swam in the river of glass that flows into the center of the dark cave, which is no longer so gloomy as this strange river reflects the sunlight on its walls. Sun that does not come from outside the cave. For long the sun does not hang over that desolate land, where there is a constant winter that can be seen as far as the sight of a blind man can reach. The light that is reflected by the so-called dark cave through the river of glass comes not from its surface, but from its source, which lies far beyond a fully known but probably unknown place. This light is reflected by the thousands, eternal pieces of glass that flow through this river. Pieces that hide, each one, different eternal infinities. So every morning of that land without sun, Loid plunges into this river and swim. Swim for all that was, all that is and all that will be; for all that can be imagined, for all that cannot be imagined, for everything yet to be imagined. It has, then, thousands of sharp pieces of glass, which hide the reflection of universes, piercing its skin. Cutting it, while lost, slipping between these thin ends is found, while all find it in return. Soon, after time has run out in infinity and restart in an explosion, Loid returns to his cave, which does not belong to him, or to anyone else, but which it likes to call for himself. Leaving this river every morning, Loid stops, rubs his hands in his face, since it has both and nothing can deny its existence. It sees with its eyes, which also has, and only its quantity and form can be questioned, its hands with the red of the blood, since Loid not only has eyes, but also can identify colors. The blood covers it completely and the intense scarlet vibrates with all that is, not really being.
This is the main routine of Loid every morning on an earth where there is no sun and where a constant winter reigns. A routine that is not routine, at least not for Loid, who does not have a good memory, or perhaps has a great memory, but cannot remember what it did in the past, which is prior to its dive into the glass river, that which lasts an infinite amount of time.
Loid feels pain when it sees the blood, which is interesting, since Loid does not have blood, or the capacity to get hurt. Maybe Loid just likes to think it has blood and that it can get hurt. But this is a mystery, since Loid’s mind is a mystery, which cannot be analyzed, only his acts, which it does not have. Then you might also think that Loid does not know it has no blood and that it cannot get hurt. Perhaps someone has told it a lie, which Loid believed. Soon, perhaps, its hands, face and eyes are also a lie and can be questioned. But they have always existed, or perhaps not.
Loid does not wipe the blood, which ends up drying on its skin, which may not exist. Thus it becomes completely red for all the blind who want to see it, since without life the vibrant scarlet is no more. Being kneeling, with legs, which should not have their existence questioned, but which may not exist, on the bank of the river of glass, it rises and walks to one of the many exits of the dark cave. Since Loid, in addition to having legs, has the ability to walk, or at least believes to have.
The dark cave is quite extensive and leads to many places, perhaps real, perhaps unreal, perhaps only imagined by Loid. Who knows, maybe it’s not going anywhere, maybe the shadowy cave is really small and has no way out. Let us suppose for the moment that the only real way out is the one that leads to the path of the nearby village, which is perhaps only imagined. Assuming this, let’s follow Loid as it walks to one of the many exits of the dark cave that is not the exit to the nearby village, as this may be the only real escape, which may not exist. It skirts the river of glass and sees its way prevented by a small square stone, perhaps rectangular, perhaps trapezoid, definitely with many sides, definitely not spherical. Stone that precedes a gigantic cliff, or perhaps a firm rocky plan. Loid stops in doubt about whether to follow or not. And so it decides not to do so. But by luck, which Loid has little and the reader obviously very much, since if it had not the story would end now, Loid is impelled to follow by a strange and new sensation of fear. It goes on, takes a step forward, overtakes that little rock, and then fall, drops a huge greatness, to the firm rocky plane in front of it, a step up. In this new, extremely old, part of the dark cave, it faces the many perhaps real, perhaps unreal, perhaps imagined exits of that same dark cave. All for many, perhaps few, far away, near there. Exits that may be the roads of other distant exits, probably also nearby.
Loid senses the fear that propelled him to push further. It knows that a great evil is approaching, one that, although every morning, propels its forward, it cannot remember, since it has been so far away from it a long day before, before diving in the river of glasses. Loid then follows one of the many exits of the dark cave, one just ahead, far away, just behind where he is, one that Loid does not remember at all, seems to it the most propitious, leading it to a new cave. A small hot cave, with stones emanating a constant scorching heat, which emits an intense red light, burning everything there. Loid is covered by red, which burns its whole body, reviving the dry blood that covers it. There, everything around it fades, the walls seem to pulsate constantly, expanding and retracting an eternal vacuum. Loid hopes to be safe in this new cave against the great evil that continues to approach, obviously chasing after it.
Loid hears the footsteps of the approaching great evil, since it also has, or believes it has, the ability to listen. Having ears, or at least some kind of hearing aid, or maybe not having them and just imagining being able to listen, without imagining having a hearing aid. Thus, Loid listens to those so real steps that approach more and more, finally arriving at the cave where it is hidden. Hot stones are nothing for this evil, they do not burn it, since it does not believe it can burn. At last, Loid’s eyes meet the great evil it fears so much and although it does not remember, it soon recognizes the little girl with golden hair and blue eyes, named Alice, who is in front of it.
Alice looks at Loid and murmurs,