Beheim, half captivated of the absurd sight before him, half seduced by the vibrant nature of Felipe’s voice, abruptly became mindful of the instantaneousness of the risk and sprang toward the recess, at the Lady Dolores, who impeded his way. He swung his clench hand at her, an underhanded blow with all his weight behind it, however, she got his hand, gave it a wrench, thumping him shaky; then, at that point, utilizing her grasp as would a mallet hurler, she hammered his head against the divider. White light fragmented in his eyes, and the highest point of his skull felt aglow with torment. He attempted to shake off the impacts of the effect, to battle to his feet, however, Lady Dolores bowed next to him, her hand on his chest, pushing him back. Her dim, savage excellence had developed into the creature, eyes dead dark, sprinters of spit crossing over between her teeth and lower teeth. Felipe remained at her shoulder, looking on serenely. “I don’t accept she focuses on you,” he said. “On the off chance that you like, I’ll essentially have her destroy you.” “Don’t… please,” said Beheim, slurring the words, unfit to center. “I… I can’t… ” “obviously you can, cousin.” Felipe got his coat and yanked him to his feet. “There, you see! You just idea you would.” He can push Beheim across the room, lifted him by the collar and the seat of his jeans, and with powerful strength, swung him toward the oval, halting his energy so that Beheim’s face was just inches away from the darkness. Beheim felt a virus tension on his skin, a delicate examining, as though the oval detected his closeness and was trying him, getting comfortable, how a visually impaired man contacts another’s face to know its compliance. He flailed wildly, frantically attempting to get away from Felipe’s grasp, however, Felipe just pushed him forward a couple of inches so his head entered the obscurity. Briefly, he could neither see nor inhale, nor could he feel anything of his body other than a freezing deadness that had fitted itself like a veil to his face; however then, at that point, either his eyes acclimated to the obscurity or by some other unbelievable cycle the haziness was converted into pictures in his cerebrum, and he saw a vista of folds like those of an immense curtain, brilliant yet dark, taking after a negative of the aurora borealis, and floating among them, structures that put him at the top of the priority list of outcroppings of quartz, calculations of colorless monoliths, precious stone urban areas. He heard a distorted resounding blasting, starting at a plastered voice heard through a divider by another alcoholic; then, at that point, from the farthest reaches of his vision, a glimmer of warmth lightning diminished into a razor’s edge of blinding white as wide as the sky and cut through the obscurity toward him, setting every one of the folds to undulating, the precious stones to bobbling, as though a blade had been swung through a mode of dark dressing and water. Just it was anything but a blade, he understood as it moved close, augmenting, obtaining subtlety, yet a multitude of terrible, shining animals, all unique, yet having solidarity of distorted person, pig rodents and cockroach lions and canine bugs and crab worms and the sky is the limit from there, growing to fill the field of his vision, heaps of them, the endlessness of desperate look and structure. As they dove toward him it appeared he had developed to an incredible size, the size of the actual sky, for as opposed to amassing over him, covering him underneath a crawly weight of light, they shrank and struck into his tissue, driving needles into his cheeks and temple, marks of such burning agony that he envisioned each to be shimmering, outlining a group of stars of torment inked across a huge dim face. And afterward, he was back in Felipe’s rooms, his body writhing, still held vulnerably up high. “What did you see, cousin?” Felipe asked with gentle interest. Beheim was igniting with cool, shuddering, his teeth banging. “Take as much time as necessary, dear kid,” said Felipe. “I’m in no rush.” Still shuddering, Beheim attempted to gather his impressions, to weave them with development, for he would have utilized any duplicity to postpone being pushed once again into that freezing outsider darkness. In any case, similarly, as he was planning to tell an unwarranted story of his encounters, Lady Dolores shouted and Felipe let him tumble to the floor.