30 short stories in 30 days # 5 The visitor from the past

Imagen cortesía de FANDOM

I don't know how I got here, maybe this is a dream, rather a nightmare, but I don't want to be in this hell anymore. Maybe I was the victim of a spell, a witch with the power to get me out of this world without me realizing it.

Apparently I am in my city, I recognize the mountain where I usually hunt deer, but I no longer see deer only demons of tight clothes and many colors that go from one side to another, why do they do that? And why is it so hot in here and so much smoke? It will be that I died and my punishment is to spend eternity in this hellish land.

What a strange place this is where steeds are made of steel and instead of shit they release black smoke, the streets are no longer of stones but of a dark material the same color as the sky, you cannot see the sun and the forests instead of trees, they are populated by huge glass-covered giants that constantly swallow and spit people, how scary!

Why do people here walk so fast and sadly in the soul but falsehood in the face? I have to think that everyone moves their penance trying to hide it in the depths of their consciences. Perhaps in this way they find comfort in their souls, they deceive themselves by pretending that they deceive others.

I don't feel well, neither the food nor the water taste the same, but the truth is that everything here tastes bad. Nobody gets old here, nobody gets sick and from what I feel nobody can be trusted. I don't understand why everyone here talks with a small glass box that they always carry in their hands, is it a manifestation of God or is it the way the magicians control these poor souls? Every time I see them as they talk to that box and it responds to them I feel great fear, this is definitely a Mandinga thing.

I need to go home, in my time to warn everyone that this future has a horrible present.

Carlos D. Pérez Guerrero / @waraira777