I was walking into a big forest one night. The light of the moon was faint, but I was managing to find my way through the trees. Everything around me seemed black. And maybe it was. After all I couldn't see so well.
At some point I found myself in front of a small house. It looked like a cottage, but again, there was not enough light to be sure. I knocked on the door. An elderly woman opened it and she let me get inside.
The small cottage was basically one room, full of candles that colored the space with yellow and red shades. It was dinner time. The table was set and the woman's husband and son were already sitting, ready to eat the tomato soup she had prepared for them. She told me to have a sit and I sat next to her son. He was about forty years old. I wasn't hungry, so I just sat there waiting for he family to eat their soup. It smelled pretty good. The kind of comforting smell of a hot homemade meal!
But suddenly, someone burst into the house! Probably a man, as I could understand from his built. He was covering his face with a hood. He quickly went behind the son's back, he took out a gun out of his pocket and he put right next to the son's head. I was sitting next to him frozen, not being able to move or even speak. The man pulled the triger. The bullet made such a big hole in the son's head. His brains started spilling out and falling piece by piece into the soup, on the plate in front of him. But, he wasn't dead yet! He picked up the spoon and filled it with soup. The soup that moments ago was filled with his own brains. I tried to open my mouth and tell him to stop, not to eat it, but I just couldn't!
He raised his hand, put the spoon inside his mouth and swallowed.
I managed to finally open my mouth and say only two words: "No, don't!". But it was too late.
