Antonio threw his bag onto the leather sofa in a fit of despair and stormed into the kitchen, mind more of a tumultuous whirl than an angry tornado. Why couldn't people just understand? They expected him to be able to move on from this? Why? How? Someone had died, you can't just expect it to be over and forgotten in a week!
With a disgusted growl, he kicked off his shoes, threw his blazer over the back of a dining chair and abandoned his red-and-black striped tie on top of the blue fabric, where it promptly slipped off and floated lazily to the ground. He flicked on the kitchen light, then leant against the counter and sighed. The light flickered above, its crackle loud in the sudden silence. Now he was back in his own house, his anger was fading fast, and he just felt sad and lost and tired.
Sleep, that was what he needed, it was what he should have got a while back. Tiredness never helped in situations like this, it would only exacerbate things. In fact it already had. He hadn't meant to yell at his friends; if anything, he'd overreacted. First thing tomorrow, he'd call and apologise. But not now.
He dragged himself up the stairs and across the landing, eyes becoming heavier with each step. Without even bothering to change out of his uniform, he collapsed face-first onto the soft blankets of his bed, letting the warm fabric lull his mind into a blank, comfortable haze.
And the last thing to pass through his thoughts before he lost consciousness was a now familiar pair of golden-brown eyes.
To his surprise, he didn't get woken up by his alarm the next morning. In fact, he didn't even wake up in his own bed. Or even in his own house. Or anywhere he recognised at all.
To be precise, he was lying under an oak tree at the top of a grassy knoll, with sunlight streaming down through the crisp green leaves from an azure sky. It was quiet and peaceful under the cool shadows.
But where was he?
He'd certainly never been here before; he'd remember a place this beautiful. There was no place like this anywhere near where he lived either. It was too bright, too clear, too green.
He was pretty sure it was a dream. The last thing he remembered was falling asleep, after all.
Yet it didn't feel like a dream. It was far too detailed for a dream, far too focused and sharp. Besides, he didn't even dream in full colour, let alone with all five senses and fully conscious thought in real time. Also, he was pretty sure he'd just woken up. So was it a real place, or not?
Well, if it was a dream, it wouldn't harm to explore the place. If it wasn't, it'd help to find out where he was and why.
It really was beautiful, he thought, surveying the area, now he was over the initial shock of arriving here. The air was warm, comfortably warm, like summer was just around the corner. Golden light shimmered off the soft green grass of the gently sloping hills, a wide expanse of green sweeping in every direction, except for a sparkling blue lake down in a valley nearby. There was a forest covering the slopes on the horizon, European conifers from the looks of it, and some distance off to the left was what looked like a small town.
It was in this last direction that Antonio decided to set off. Towns were usually where interesting things would happen, and, if it had a name, he'd find out where he was. Picking up a swift but measured pace down the hill, he soon came across a smooth sandstone road meandering gradually around the curves of the land. He followed it without much of a thought; it looked to be heading towards the town anyway. Letting his feet do the walking automatically, he slowly turned his head from one side to the other, getting a feel of his new surroundings.
This place...it felt way too real to be a dream. He could feel every whistle of the wind, hear every song of the birds, see every detail on the landscape. He could listen to the very moment he was in and feel it passing by, sharper than a freshly honed knife. It had an edge to it, one that just felt so unbelievably brilliant that he almost didn't want to leave.
A painful jolt ran through his heart at this thought. That was a dangerous thought. No, he couldn't stay here, he had to find someone, learn where he was and take the first way back home.
It's almost suspicious, the way that this place has captivated me. Is it a trap? Either way, I'd better be on my guard. These sorts of thoughts really aren't good.
He passed through lofty marble arches into the town itself, delicate, refreshing trees lining the avenue through which he passed. Tall buildings lined the streets within, built out of flawless stone with breathtaking architecture. Fresh flowers bloomed in their windowboxes with bright explosions of perfectly formed colour. Utterly breathtaking, it was hard to describe it any other way.
Each street wound lazily onto the next in carefree, gentle curves and through ornate arches and pillars. Through one side-street he saw a river through across the way, crossed by an elaborately wrought bridge over its smooth waters. Eventually he turned into a wide cobbled piazza, at the end of which was a beautifully carved fountain, where a bearded man stood proud above a flanking of men and horses. Gold coins glittered in the large collecting pool, catching the rainbows of light reflected off the falling droplets.
After ten or fifteen minutes of marvelling as he wandered, he walked out and under another archway, and his eyes were met with an immaculate green plaza stretching out in a circle at least two hundred metres in diameter. And, in the centre, was where surprise nearly short-circuited his brain.
That was...the Leaning Tower of Pisa? What the hell was that doing here? This wasn't Pisa, he was pretty sure he wasn't even in Italy. And that, on the edge of the plaza, that was the Coliseum, from Rome, in all its renowned glory. If it wasn't the real thing, it certainly was a brilliant copy. Why were these Italian monuments all in one place? His breath hitched as he realised the fountain he'd passed earlier was an exact copy of the Trevi fountain; in fact, he had an awful, subconscious feeling that it was the Trevi fountain. But that was impossible, surely?
Strange, Antonio thought as he circumambulated the grassy ring, fear beginning to rise in his heart. Really, really strange. This place, wherever it is, is really starting to freak me out. It can't be real. All these monuments, they aren't in the same place, they should be miles apart. And where is everyone? There's nobody here, not one person. That's the thing that really freaks me out, that there's no one here. If I'm lucid dreaming, I should be able to wake up and escape, or at least make someone turn up and talk to me. So...then I guess this place must be real. It sure feels real. Way too real to have been dreamed up. Which only leaves the question of how I got here from my house. Who brought me here? And why are all these monuments here; are they real? I need to find someone and get my questions answered. Quickly. Else I might go mad.
But there was no one. Throughout the entire town there was no one. Antonio even searched inside some of the buildings. There were signs of life there, belongings and such, but not a single person. The place didn't feel cold and abandoned, far from it, but it was sure as hell uninhabited. No longer could he relax, his muscles were tensed as if expecting a fight at any moment. It was almost like a horror movie, only stranger.
Time to get out. He dug in his pocket for his mobile phone, now eternally grateful that he'd fallen asleep in his uniform. He was mentally hitting himself for not thinking of this idea sooner, glad Gilbert and Francis weren't here at the moment. They were always calling him clueless. Then again, he rather wished that they were here.
The compact screen lit up as he slid the device open, breathing suddenly ragged. And a cold sense of dread gripped him as he read the display.
No network available.
Ignoring this, he punched in Gilbert's number from the speed dial and held the phone to his ear. There was a short, heart-rending pause, then; "The number you have dialled is unable to be connected at this time. Please try again." Damn it.
Ok, focus, Antonio, focus. There's no point freaking out. You'll just have to survive on your own. He forced his breathing to slow and his mind to calm, then took a deep breath and began to assess the situation.
From the looks of the sun's movement across the sky, it was early afternoon now, and since it had been morning when he'd woken up, he'd been fruitlessly searching for hours. Frustrated and slightly apprehensive, he decided to leave the town and try finding people elsewhere. He could always come back, it wasn't hard to find the place. All the roads, few as they were, seemed to lead here.
The sun's golden orb was much higher in the sky as he set off, and he could feel its rays beating down on him. It was a bit warmer than it had been, he'd been noticing it in the back of his mind. It wasn't uncomfortable though – he was Spanish, after all, and used to such weather. To be honest, it was nice, especially after the winter they'd had at home a couple of months back.
Anyway, back to reality. If he was going to be stuck here for a while, he needed to make sure he was going to be safe and well. So, check the Antonio-surviving list. Civilisation, check. Shelter, also check. Location, no idea yet. Food, not any from the looks of it. People, even less so. Despite the brilliance of the place itself, Antonio feeling bleaker by the second. And he was usually a rather cheerful, carefree person.
It was perhaps half an hour later when he reached the top of a hill, in the opposite direction to where he'd woken up from. Panting slightly from the effort, he stopped at the top and caught his breath. The leather shoes he was currently wearing were not made for walking for hours on end, and his checked blue trousers were getting a little warm. It wasn't supposed to be almost summer at the moment, they were winter trousers, after all.
But then he looked up and forgot all about the weather.
Spread out before him was a field of tomatoes the size of a city block, bright, leafy plants each overloaded with succulent, swollen red orbs. He'd never seen anything like it before. Antonio could feel his mouth water just looking at them.
A sudden movement caught his eye and he turned his head towards it. Amongst the plants, there was a young man tending to the plants, a large wicker basket half full of ripe tomatoes next to his legs. He wore a loose white shirt and tan shorts, with his face hidden by a large straw hat to keep off the sun.
Delighted to finally find some company and perhaps some answers about what had happened to him, Antonio sprinted down the hill without a second though, feet spiralling chaotically so that he almost fell over from excitement. As he got into the field, between the rows of tomatoes, about twenty metres away from the young man, he waved one arm above his head in greeting.
"Hello!" he called loudly. "Excuse me, but I was wondering if you could help me out?"
Guess who? [Hint; it's not obvious at all :P]
Yay for strange creepy place full of pretty pretty things and shiny monumentses. I had fun writing this chapter. But I think I will have more fun writing the next one.