Fear, is essential to all beings, to strive, to survive, but fear also restricts us from seeing the true nature of reality. If compassion is extended to both seen and unseen, the born and to-be born, and what is known and unknown, there would be no fear either.

We, humans, are afraid of what we cannot comprehend. It’s a horror of Abjection: horror of what cannot return.

I slept till eleven in the morning, and got late on the first day of our trip. Our tour guide, Mikhail was waiting in the hotel’s lobby to pick us up in a bus. I got up to get ready after my phone blared up with calls from him and rushed downstairs to apologetically meet him in the lobby. The bus departed from the hotel to Hoia Baciu forest in Transylvania near Cluj Napoca.

Hoia Baciu is said to be one of the haunted forests and is infamous for its local legends of paranormal sightings. In 1968, a military technician, Emil Barnea reported to have seen UFO in the forest, but the man was regarded as a lunatic, and lost his job afterwards. Mikhail told us that since then, many strange people come to this place to look for a hidden portal to another dimension.

When we got off the bus and entered the forest, Mikhail instructed us to walk in a group and not to wander off alone in the forest. I stayed near Mikhail, and listened to his stories about the forest. According to the locals, evil spirits lurk among the trees of Hoia Baciu forest. The shepherd who disappeared in the forest never came back, and the girl who returned after her five years of disappearance was unable to recall anything.

However, whether it's a ghost or a UFO, it was all manmade conjecture to explain the strange phenomena that people might experience in the dense environment of the forest due to fatigue and exhaustion.

As we ventured deep into the forest, all those myths somehow seemed true. The fog started to set in due to October’s weather which created an eerie atmosphere. The trees in the forest were all crooked and spiraling that itself gave off the spooky feeling as if the trees would start walking once the sun set in. I tripped over the exposed tree root, and twisted my ankle. Mikhail stopped to check on me, but I told him that I was fine and he didn’t have to wait for me.

I massaged my ankle, and waited for the pain to subside before getting up to join the others. I followed the path in the forest where the others had gone in, but didn’t find anyone. The fog had grown denser in the late afternoon so it’d difficult to find them. As I walked further into the thicket of trees, I sensed someone following me, but when I turned I saw no one.

Thinking I was being paranoid, I hurried the pace to find the others, but the disturbing feeling of being stalked didn’t go away. I hid behind a tree to see who it was following me. It could have been someone from our group who had stayed behind and waited to get me alone in the woods.

As the footsteps approached near, I reared my head to see that person, but a hand on my shoulder pulled me back and I looked up to see him frowning at me.

Was he the one following me?

“Wh—” I opened my mouth to ask him, but he raised a finger to his mouth asking me to be silent. I got the cue, and waited in silence to catch that person. A hunched male figure in a tattered black hood and pants appeared from the trees, and trudged past us without looking in our direction. The person was weak and frail and judging from his haggard appearance, he didn’t seem to be one of the tourists, so I thought he must be a local.

He tapped on my arm, and signaled me to follow him. He walked us back, and put a good distance between us and that person.

“Is he a local from here?” I asked him. “He’s been following me.”

“He might be lost, so he wanted to follow you to find his way out.” He told me.

“Lost?” I became alarmed. “Shouldn’t we go back and help him?” I was about to turn and go back to find, but he stopped me.

“Do you think he’s a good person?” He said to me. “He’s pushing you further into the forest to corner you.”

Then he leaned forward and said in my ear, “Not all the people you see here might be humans."

I stared at him in horror, but a smile on his face told me that he wanted to scare me.

“Are you a guide here?” I asked him.

“You can say that.” He answered while checking his surroundings.

“Do you know the way back? My team might be looking for me.” I asked him, and he told me to follow him closely. However, he suddenly stopped walking and I bumped into his back. I stepped back to ask him what was wrong, but became quiet when I noticed some figures in the fog.

Those tall, stick like figures moved in the fog and walked past each other as if searching for something but couldn't seem to find it. He gestured at me not to make a sound, and retreat in silence, but I accidentally stepped on a fallen twig, and the sound made those figures snap their heads in our direction.

I held my breath, and looked up to see him in fear, but he's staring back at those things. He then wrote in my palm that as long as we didn't make any sound, those things couldn't see us since they didn't have eyes.

He must have meant ‘sight’; however, I nodded in understanding, and silently retreated from there with him. The person from before was still wandering in the forest, but we avoided being seen by him.

Eventually, I got back to the entrance of the forest where Mikhail and others were waiting for me. I told them that a strange person had been stalking me, but a local guide helped me find the way back.

“Where’s he?” Mikhail asked, as there’s no one with me.

“He must have left.” I told him, and berated myself for not asking his name again. As we turned to leave, I saw a missing notice of a person pasted on a tree.

Mikhail followed my gaze to see what I was looking at, and told me that this person had been missing for three years, but his mother would still come to put a new notice in a hope to find him some day. I thought of the person from before, and wondered if it’s him or not.

“There were people in the fog too.” I told them, and a woman suddenly asked, “Could it be the blind spirits of the forest? “

“I've heard that those who die in this forest lose their eyesight and can’t find their way to the netherworld.” She told us.

“It could be another team in the forest. Let’s go back before it gets dark.” Mikhail told us, and led all of us back to the bus.

As the bus was about to leave, the drizzle started and through the misty window of the bus, I saw that person standing in the forest. I looked away from him and pretended not to see him.However, it’s raining and I couldn’t help myself but ask Mihail to stop the bus and let that person on-board.

“There’s no one here.” He was confused. Goosebumps stood on my arm when the person looked up. He had no eyeballs in his sockets; instead, two empty holes stared at me.

“Did you really see a blind ghost?” That woman asked me again, and I said nothing and went back to my seat in a shock. I rolled up my sleeve to look at the scar on the forearm, and had a foreboding feeling about the trip.

The following few days in Romania were well-spent. Being in Transylvania meant visiting its Bran Castle, the famous Count Dracula’s Castle as well. I got up in the afternoon, showered and got dressed in a plain black vintage gown. I buttoned up the collar and secured a belt in place around my waist. I pulled up my hair in a half-up do and slipped  in a golden hair-stick, an heirloom left to me by my late grandmother. I checked myself in the mirror,  and took a brown coat with me in case it got chilly later at night.

Mikhail, our tour guide took us to Bran Castle whose flaming red towers stood in stark contrast to the white walls of the castle, and was in its full glory against the autumnal landscape. It was a childhood dream coming true; partly from Brahms Stoker’s story, and partly because of my own constitution towards dark places.

The inside of the castle was a sight to see from murals to the display of portraits, woodwork, furniture, weaponry and armor. The narrow secret passage connecting two floors was claustrophobic, but the overall experience was nonetheless good. Then, it’s time to visit Peleș Castle, I wouldn’t lie if I had said that the interior of the castle was nothing short of magnificence. The castle had 170 rooms of varying themes, from Turkish Parlor to Theatre, and a Hall of Honor which extended over to three levels and was painted in emerald green. Everything in the Castle, from its stairs to the walls and even beams, was artistically wood-crafted and held its regal ambiance in the rich hues of ochre, red and gold. I wandered off to the study room, took some pictures, and then, visited the dining hall wishing how nice it would have been to be born in those times.

I came out to take a breather in fresh air of the garden, and looked at the sculpture of Elizabeth of Wied, the Carol’s I wife, sewing socks. She was a writer, and the patron of Romanian Red Cross. She’s titled ‘Mother of the Wounded’ after Turk-Romanian war, but what artist had captured was a private moment of meagerness; a plain nature of woman instead of her accomplishments.

It was getting darker, and the air had become chilly too. I rubbed my hands, and went back to the main hall to see Mikhail, but couldn’t find him. It’s then I sensed something was off. Neither the people around me were the familiar faces, nor I could see anyone from our group. I looked over my shoulder and saw them staring at me for some reason. They all were dressed strangely in a Victorian fashion, and had sunken red eyes. Growing uncomfortable, I tried calling Mikhail but there were no signals. I turned around to ask someone, but then the lights were suddenly out. I stood there in darkness and silence around me became disturbingly unbearable.

Then, I heard a snarl.

The people around me had drawn near forming a semi-circle. I looked at their hauntingly pale  faces, and found my vision becoming darker and darker. A hand on my shoulder jolted me back, and I pulled out the hairpin to attack that person. I spun around on my heels and pressed the sharp edge of the hairpin against their throat, drawing a trickle of blood. However, my eyes widened when I saw him standing in front of me with a surprised look on his face.

“You?” I took in his figure, and he was dressed in the same Victorian suit as the others. “What are you doing here?”  I inquired, because him being here meant what had happened on the train was real.

There was something surreal about it, but I couldn’t explain it.

“You're here again?” He narrowed his eyes at me, then removed the pin from his throat wincing in pain.

“Sorry, I didn’t know that it was you.” I reached for a handkerchief in my pocket, but he refused it.

“It’s alright, but I’d suggest you not to cut yourself and bleed here.” He whispered in my ear as he eyed an old man behind me.

“What is it?” I asked and shifted back at the sudden proximity, but he put his hand on my waist and pulled me closer.

“Stand still.” He instructed, and maneuvered us to the middle of the room. I got the cue upon seeing another dancing pair, and placed my hand on his shoulder.

“Why is everyone dancing suddenly?” I asked him, and he laughed in response. “It’s a ballroom.”

“Ballroom?” I quirked my brow at him. He must have been stringing me along, thinking of me as fool. “Since when did Peleș Castle become a ballroom?” I scoffed, but he kept a straight face. Suddenly, I grew pale in horror and asked him,

“Who are these people?”

“Blood-drainers”. He answered, and my heart skipped a beat. I turned my head to look at the man behind me, but froze when he bared his fangs at me.

“I fell asleep again, right?” I muttered to myself in disbelief. “This ought to be another nightmare.” I closed my eyes and kept chanting to myself that it was a another dream. I might have taken my medicine, and fallen asleep again.

“This is not a dream.” He said, holding me up by waist as legs failed me. “Why do you keep saying it’s a nightmare?”

“Because, I—". I looked him in the eye, but failed to tell him that nightmares had been keeping me company since childhood. Those things had never left. I heard the snarls around me again, and inched closer to him to ask, “What is this place?”

The room had suddenly become familiar, and I felt as I had been there before perhaps in a dream or another life.

“If you don’t know what place is, I can’t explain it to you either”, he said. Refusing  to be trapped into another hellish nightmare, I did what I could think of the best at that time. I stabbed myself in hand with the hairpin to jolt myself awake, but in vain.

Blood dripped on the ground as pain shot through my left hand.

“What have you done?” Blood drained from his face, as he pressed onto my hand to stop the bleeding. Those people around us had come much closer and started growling. We took in their blood thirsty faces before running out of the room into the hallway as they swarmed behind us.

“I told you not to do anything stupid!” He barked at me as we ran through the hallway.

“I thought I was dreaming!” I shouted back, looking over my shoulder in panic. Those blood drainers went into full blood haze, and ran after us trying to get their hands on us. He pulled out his sword, and I ducked down as slashed one of the blood-drainer behind me. I  managed to get out of the castle, but stopped when he didn’t come out with me and tried to hold back those creatures.

“Get to the carriage!” He barked as he struggled to get those blood drainers off him. I decided to help him, but he asked me again to get away from there. I ran to the carriage, and got inside it. I held the hairstick in hand as it’s the only thing to defend myself with, and asked the coachman to wait for him. I was about to go out again and look for him, when he got inside the carriage and sat opposite to me.

“I managed to take few of them down, but we have to get out of here.” I nodded and asked the coachman to get moving.

“Are you hurt anywhere?” I examined him, and noticed that the cut on his neck was already healed. “I’m fine.” He stated and fisted his hands on his thighs. I looked at my own injured hand and took out the handkerchief to wrap around it.

“What caused those blood-drainers to go on a rampage?” I asked tying the knot with my teeth.

“It’s your blood that attracted them.” He spoke as his dark eyes bore through me. “You have a unique scent, Rhea.”

“Look—” I paused and looked at him in suspicion. “I have never told you my name.” Panic settled in my gut as his mouth turned upward in a sinister grin. It was not him.