Strange experience

I shrugged away the unsettling train of thoughts. Instead, I tried to keep my mind occupied with something constructive. I returned to Milán's book that I had not read for quite a while. I admitted with a pang of regret that I neglected my translator job during the past few days, notwithstanding I truly enjoyed the gloomy story and was eager to go on with it.

However, as I read the last part of the novel (I usually read some of the remaining chapters before I began to translate one), I felt decidedly odd.
The final scenes turned out surprisingly violent. Furthermore I found them somewhat elusive. The narrative left some riddles open, the reader could only suspect the sinister ending from a few slipped hints.
Those glorious legends of the ancient Eastern Pagan cults, the secrets of Mesopotamian and Chaldean magic created a very distinctive atmosphere anyway; and the ending sent chills along my spine.

I have already read countless ghost stories, horror novels and crimes whose characters wallowed in blood up to their ankles, yet it was different. It literally made me feel weakened.

I could not recall anything similar, although once I felt a bit dizzy after reading a particularly blood-soaked scene of a Stephen King book (he truly has had impressive imaginations about slicing human flesh and also a knack for naturalistic and brutal descriptions). When I was at the age of eleven, I was terrified to read King's books (the first S. K. books of my life, I have borrowed them from my cousin Zsolti's father), or some reports from the supposedly "true" stories of 'The Unexplainable'.
Yet this time, as a grown-up person it was more than weird to feel uneasy, only because I read a disturbing story when I was alone in the flat.

Seeking for solace, I went out to the tiny balcony. It looked onto a ground with trees and lawn, surrounded by blocks of flats and a row of garages. So peaceful it was that sitting in the balcony, one could think they were in the middle of a forest and not in a town. The thrumming of the cars and the noise of people talking could not be heard there.
All in all, it was the most comfortable place to hide away. Except for the insects - I have been a big friend of nature, yet I feel a bit repelled by flies, beetles and wasps, especially when they touched my skin.
I covered a plaid on the sunlit ground and sat down. I closed my eyes and relaxed my tense muscles inch by inch.
I tried the first meditation practices that I learnt from Vanda's book.

This time, instead of feeling comforted, I saw the most embarrassing images in my head.
Dark figures in a dark room, I was afraid of them. I was afraid of the unthinkable.
My eyes snapped open quickly.
Yet I could still remember the face of one of the figures: I recognised him as Máté.