First of all, let me apologize for any mistakes in my English. It is not my native language, but I taught myself when I was just a kid by listening to Iron Maiden songs and translating them with a dictionary. But that’s not why I’m here. Today, I’m going to tell you a story that has become a huge part of my life. Let me grab some good, aged Latakia tobacco, light my smoking pipe, and share my tale with you.
My name is Wilson, and I’m a creative director for a small local marketing agency in Brazil.
It was a regular Friday. It all started as usual, with my daily routine of waking up, using the bathroom, washing my hands, making breakfast for my wife and myself, and cleaning the litter box for my 20 cats. I then began my workday (I love working from home), cooked lunch, took a nap, worked some more, and made more coffee. At 7:45 pm, I started my old Sandero and drove my wife to college, all pretty normal.
When I was halfway home, I stopped at a usual crossroad in my neighborhood and passed by a closed school. I saw something moving through the gated entrance. It was a German shepherd they kept there at night, but it was moving strangely, slowly spinning on one hind leg. I hit the brakes and whispered, “What the fuck?” Then something caught my eye. It was a white figure, like a humanoid made of dim light, floating a few feet from the dog. Although I couldn’t discern any features, such as its face or anything, I felt it looking at me. I just couldn’t move an inch.
Then I saw it.
A flash of white light, like a bright lantern, blinded me, emanating from what would be the creature’s hand.
I couldn’t say a word, but my mind was screaming “Motherfucker!”, and I felt petrified. After a few moments, I gradually regained control of my body, and my sight started to return.
I rubbed my eyes, feeling a bit dizzy from the strong light. Something wasn’t right. I was in the middle of some woods, not my neighborhood. Standing there motionless, slowly checking my surroundings, my heart beating like a crazed horse, a deep fear took over me. I checked my phone, but there was no service.
Wait.
It was midnight? Had I been blind for four hours and somehow driven to a forest in the middle of nowhere? What had happened during this time? Where was I?
Wait again.
My phone always shows the time and location on my screen: 1°C/33°F? And the location got me pretty confused. Norway?
It must be a bug, of course. But then it hit me. It was really cold, and it looked like it was snowing. It doesn’t get this cold in Brazil, and it doesn’t usually snow unless I’m in the far south. However, I happen to live in the southeast, one of the biggest Brazilian cities. Additionally, the trees were also pretty different from the ones I know in my region. We don’t have this many pine trees where I live.
“Jesus, where the fuck I am?” I said to myself.
I couldn’t call my wife. It was too dark, and I play a lot of RPGs, so I know better than to venture into unknown woods at night without proper preparation. I decided to wait until dawn and look for help.
At least I could start my car and turn on the AC. The hot air was really welcome!
I almost didn’t sleep that night. By the way, I have ADHD, and my brain was spinning with ideas and possibilities. I tried to focus my mind on my surroundings. I started listening to creepy sounds, and I’m pretty sure I saw a big figure way ahead. A bear, maybe? Well, I just didn’t move and it didn’t come near my car either.
Finally, the morning came. I started whistling Edvard Grieg’s Morning Mood because if I really am in Norway, that would be tragicomic. This famous morning song was the first thing that came to my mind as a rush of hyperactivity flooded my brain when I saw the sunrise.
I stepped out of the car at around 9 am because the weather wasn’t that cold anymore. I grabbed a red blanket from my trunk and wrapped it around me. Why did I have a blanket in my car? ADHD, of course. A few months ago, when I moved to a different house, I used it to pad my trunk and transport some fragile items like glasses, but I never took it out because I kept procrastinating about taking it to the laundry. Anyway, I pressed the alarm button on my keys and called for help, but unfortunately, nobody answered, not even a passing bird.
My phone battery was running low, even though I had set it to airplane mode. After two hours of walking down what looked like an old hiker’s trail (of course, I was leaving scratch marks with my keys on tree barks to remember the way back to my car), I stumbled upon a wooden cabin with smoke billowing out of its chimney.
As I approached the cabin, a delicious aroma of meat stew wafted towards me, making my mouth water. However, it was hard to knock on the door because I was shivering from being exposed to the cold weather for too long.
A middle-aged man opened the door, looking a bit confused, and asked me something in Norwegian. I replied in English.
“Sorry, mate. English or Portuguese. I am lost and I need your help.”
“Oh, come on in! Sit by the fire!” he replied.
He grabbed a bowl of what I found out to be rabbit stew with mashed potatoes, and I started telling him my story. He was as confused as I was. He introduced himself as Ole and told me we were in a national park. He was staying there as a bird watcher as part of his PhD in biology.
Even though he didn’t really believe me, he offered me his phone and allowed me to install WhatsApp. I proceeded to call my wife.
She didn’t answer at first, so I sent a voice message asking her to call me back ASAP, along with a selfie showing the snowy woods behind me. The two blue ticks appeared, and she video called me right after.
Oh my, she was crying uncontrollably and seemed on the verge of passing out. My parents were there too, and my father almost had a third heart attack. My mother couldn’t even speak.
Then I explained what happened, showing Ole and the surrounding area. My wife and parents simply could not believe it. We talked for a long while, and we decided to buy a plane ticket. We debated all the possibilities we could think of. There was only one problem. I don’t have a passport. Never had one and it would be a big problem. How could I explain this? The only possibility would be looking for Brazil’s embassy and asking for help and trying my best to explain the situation.
I was worried they wouldn’t believe me. Although I don’t usually experience anxiety, my ADHD brain started generating all kinds of possibilities, and I kept zoning in and out. They might think I’m a drug dealer on the run, a victim of sex trafficking, or a stowaway. The idea of being abducted by aliens would be easier to explain than a freaking white light that teleported me and my car.
Right. My car.
That would be great evidence! I could ask my wife to send the video footage of me leaving home in my car, and now I’d be able to show the license plate to the embassy. The authorities would see the exact same car parked in the middle of some Norwegian woods. They would know that something was happening, something off the grid, and might help me. Of course, I was also expecting to face lots of questions from some “men in black.”
I called my wife again and explained my idea, which she immediately followed. Good old Wilson, leaving home, and the recording time showed my usual GMT -3. Ole was right beside me, watching the footage, and he actually started to believe me. Good, one ally in this weird story.
To be honest, Ole asked me to show him my car. We followed the trails I left on the tree barks and we got back to my car. It was the same car from the footage, with the same dent on its trunk from the time I hit a dumpster in reverse.
Now there was just the matter of contacting the embassy, which is located in Oslo, pretty far away from where we were. Then we proceeded to go back to Ole’s cabin.
Well, shit.
After exactly three steps on our way back, there it was again. The same white figure, a few yards away from us. Ole stopped dead on his tracks, so did I.
This time it left a strange sound - a buzzing hiss, like the white noise from an untuned TV channel. My spine started to hurt, and a pain rose to my head. But, to be honest, I’m used to this kind of pain. It’s the same headache I get when my head is overflowing with thoughts and ideas, and I can’t focus. It actually hurts a bit.
I guess Ole felt the same, but worse. It must have been an intense pressure in his head, as if something was trying to force its way into his mind. He clutched his head in agony.
The white noise got louder, and I realized that it was the figure’s voice. Strangely, I could understand it.
“You are touched. He is not.”
As I struggled, I saw Ole floating in the air, his body contorted in pain. He looked like he was being torn apart from the inside. I tried to reach out to him, but my limbs felt heavy and unresponsive. Maybe his pain was so intense he couldn’t even scream, even though his mouth was wide open in pain, his eyes getting red and swollen.
“Damn! Leave him be! Let him go!” I screamed out loud.
Then Ole just froze. And I mean it. It was like he was frozen in time, totally motionless.
He stayed this way for a few moments, his eyes empty, filled with red veins from the intense pressure. Then he started to bloat.
“He goes”, the white figure hissed.
Ole had just exploded, scattered everywhere. Some innards landed on my face, my car showered in red and limbs. The white snow now turned scarlet.
“No!!! What the hell did you do? You monster!”
The white figure moved silently closer to me and made me hover, just as it had done to Ole before.
“You have been touched. You were supposed to go, but you did not. Now we follow. Now we learn more,” it said.
Then its shape turned into a small, single luminous point and simply vanished, like a dying light bulb.
And there I was, in the middle of nowhere, covered in blood from head to toe, with a dead local sprawled over my face and car. This time, a rush of anxiety took over me. I was going to prison in a foreign country. My life was over. The authorities would think I was some Brazilian killer escaping justice, and I would never see my family again. I would end up in the same prison as Varg Vikernes and become international news.
Fuck.
Fuck fuck fuck.
His phone. Right. I started looking for it to call my wife and tell her what had just happened. I remembered his phone was in his leg pocket.
Damn, his leg went right through my car’s windshield.
“Sorry, Ole. Gotta borrow your phone for a moment.”
I started searching for it, but when I found it, it was broken and folded like the letter L.
“Godammit!” I screamed.
A pure panic attack. My breathing got heavier, my head was dizzy, and spinning. What the hell would I do now?
“Ok. Calm down, Wilson. Close your eyes. Breathe slowly. Concentrate on your breathing.”
Ole’s phone was dented, but maybe I could remove his SIM card to use in mine. I took his phone and ventured back to his cabin.
After walking for one hour nonstop, I arrived back at the cabin and began searching for a tool to open the SIM slot on Ole’s phone. I wondered if the creature I had seen during the night might be a bear and had found Ole’s remains, and his death could be explained as a vicious bear attack, but I pushed the thought away. Ole’s death deserved the truth. I searched for a pin, paper clip, or anything I could use, and then I remembered my earring. It would have to do.
My earring fit the hole perfectly fine. Good, it worked!
Now to do the same to my phone and…
A Korean girl was drinking from a mug standing by the bedroom’s door. I noticed her because she purposely made a slurping sound.
I froze as she smiled at me.
“Welcome to Norway, Wilson.”