The Dartagnan Brothers Hotel

Chapter 5

'I need to get out, get some air...' he told Rodrigo as he walked out gasping for air towards the balcony he had just been to.
With long strides, Jonas moved on without looking around, he was very anxious about what had just happened. 'How can I have dreamed all of this in such a short time?', he thought as he tried to unscramble the visions he had just had and understand them in line with the alternating reality that was presenting itself to him.
He didn't have to lie to Rodrigo as he really felt much better and the hallucinations seemed to have given his head a break, no longer aching as badly, but what really interested him at that particular moment was to seek an answer to the anxiety he was feeling. He opened the balcony doors and leaned over the porch to vomit.
He forced it, but nothing came out.
He felt suffocated by his own thoughts as he tried to organize the order of the events.
He searched the deepest of his memories for the direct order of the facts, trying to understand how he could have been in two places at the same time. How could Mr. Dartagnan - who had just been in that same balcony smoking cigarettes with him a few minutes ago - be with him in that small room. Every few minutes he felt the urgency to look around, trying to find the presence of a figure that seemed to run through his peripheral vision, but every time he twisted his neck hard to seek an answer, he realised that his mind continued to play poorly elaborated tricks on him. The party atmosphere was still going strong inside. 'Funny how these people have a habit of changing the course of the party.', he thought, realising that the mingle inside would take alternate directions every little bit.
Jonas had no desire to return to that crowd. He again observed the immensity of the garden that spread in front of him whilst trying to take a deep breath and calm down, he could observe, now with more attention, that he did not need to comment on what he had just experienced with Mr. Dartagnan, as he did not want to cause any more problems to the event he was kindly invited to.
The size of that maze left Jonas even more curious and intrigued by how large the property of the Dartagnan Brothers' Hotel was.
The shape that gave form to the maze seemed simple to unravel from there. Nothing out of the ordinary, it was similar to every other he had seen in movies or even in parks as he was just a child playing around. At the end of the forestry image that was passed on to him by the immensity of the maze, he could see the fountain that spurted water whilst glowing white lights. 'A bit tacky.', he thought as he imagined how it would look like at close sight, even though he couldn't see the monument in its entirety. The balcony extended on both sides with a huge staircase covered by a white granite floor with small black stripes that gave it an incredible contrast. The floor was dirty and the handrail was cold, he went down slowly so that he wouldn't fall on the slippery, damp floor. At that moment, he could see that the cold was coming as he remembered that humidity took over the place during the winter in that region of the country, but the mid-season still made it possible to enjoy the fresh air with some comfort.
As he reached the lawn that faced the main entrance to the maze, Jonas noticed that a gloomy air hovered right above where the vines came to an end, it was not so cold, but his left arm felt a little shiver as a slight breeze passed by and moved the direction that his hair was combed. He felt a slight burning sensation in the same arm, something he had noticed before, when Rodrigo had pulled him off, but now it seemed to be bothering him a bit more as the friction of his shirt scratched what appeared to be a small cut. He took off his coat as he laid it on the floor and was able to notice a small blood stain between his shirt and the inside of his forearm. Although he felt a small pain whilst living that weird dream, he couldn't remember getting hurt at any time, but it wasn't unusual for him to wake up with one or two injuries after a night of drinking.
He unbuttoned his shirt and rolled up his sleeve until his forearm was in contact with the air left by the fresh breeze that was passing by. The situation was critical. Jonas could constantly cross the line in a slight charming way that women would find attractive, but he, in any possible way imaginable, could understand how what had just sprung before his eyes could have happened. Beneath a small layer of dried blood, he could see a tiny little drawing. It was a small black cross drawn upside-down as from the point of view he was looking at. It didn't make any sense that that thing was there, on his arm, even though in his dream he had been experiencing headaches, he couldn't remember any noise or pain that resembled that of a tattoo. With great difficulty, as the wound still seemed recent, he removed the small skin of blood that was still forming to look at that thing more closely.
Despite being able to see the little cross more clearly, Jonas couldn't notice anything different that would make any sense, in fact, nothing else made sense that night. Drugs, lucid dreams, a palace hidden by a hotel and many weirdly refined people were some of the many things that became part of his life. He stopped to observe his surroundings and realised that he had been looking at his new tattoo for a long time. He went back to fetch his mobile so he could at least have some clarity about what the time was, he got so lost that night that he had no idea of how much time had passed since he got there. Dawn had recently made its first appearance as the sky was clear and lit by the strong brightness of the stars that was highlighted by a strong crescent moon that stamped the sky as if it was a masterpiece.
He decided to forget about the tattoo for a moment so he could go back to observing his surroundings. The grass stretched till the entrance of the maze as a small passage indicated by a sign said 'Welcome'. Some weird little thing inside his mind was pulling him towards that entrance, which made Jonas decide to take a few steps into the maze, as he had always been fascinated by that kind of thing, since he was little.
Before stepping on the other side, he held his hands up to the small leaves that sprouted from the vines that covered what appeared to be a concrete wall. 'Nobody gets out by cheating.', he read as he repeated the words that were written on the same sign that welcomed the visitors. A feeling of euphoria that attracted an eccentric taste for the difficulty that was presented to him took over and made him forget about the problems he had already accumulated. Any small challenge would spark his most deviant thoughts and an instinct for adventure would arise from within, Jonas didn't even think about those weird dreams or the strange tattoo that had appeared on his arm, he just went in.
The design of the maze looked different from what he had seen on the balcony. Although most of the path was lit by moonlight, some parts were covered by the vineyards that already took over the structure, and, as he went further, the colder the air would become. The landscape was awfully bleak, but that wouldn't  scare Jonas, on the contrary, he felt more and more of an urge to go deeper and discover what was so beautiful about the water fountain that he couldn't see in its complete form from the balcony, as deep down he knew that was just an excuse to continue through the maze and to be able to feel the satisfaction of reaching its end.
Something intrinsic attracted him, more and more, into the deeps of that place.
'I can't get lost in here.', he concluded in his own mind by reasoning that his mental state was not the most propitious for walking out into the woods, especially through a maze, a place designed to get him lost. Despite being a man driven by reason, Jonas often let himself be led by the adventurous and irrational side, as he would let his emotions take care of the coherent and avoid him seeking the feeling of remorse when his choices would go awry, however inconsequential they might be.
The mysterious maze did not appear to be something out of that world. The corridors were relatively wide and every two wrong passages gave way to a right one. 'Won't be long till I reach the end...', he thought as he let himself be driven by the momentum again. He was eager to continue, the feeling was of pure euphoria, which usually won in a dispute between reason and emotion.
'Jonas?' he heard someone scream nearby.
'I'm in here!' he shouted back at the top of his lungs to whomever that was. The voice was indistinguishable.
'Jonas?'
The same odd voice repeated itself. The intonation seemed to be that of a male voice charged with experience and eager to receive feedback.
'I'm right fucking here' he shouted back.
'Jonas?'
He decided to give that up for the time being. 'I'm going to go back to where I came from.', he thought as he realised that he would have to leave his amusing stroll at the maze for later on. 'It might be better with some daylight.'
Jonas went back the exactly same way he had made his way in, but his mind seemed to be playing tricks on him as those lucid dreams had scrambled his brain and he now seemed to be unable to find his way out. 'This is no time to panic.', he thought as he tried to ease the anxiety that was kicking in.
Each and every corridor he walked by seemed to look the same. The euphoria was filled with fear as the width between the walls seemed to be getting narrower and narrower. His mind started to project a tapered vision, and his anxiety started to get more and more uncontrollable, which was not favoured by the continuous strange voice that would exhale the same annoying sound.
'Jonas?'
He wasn't particularly polite as he answered the voice once again. He was desperately trying to understand what direction the sound was coming from by the intensity of the voice, but it did not seem to be getting any different as it sounded the same in the exact same time intervals. 'One, two, three ... forty-five.', was the space of time he could count between each time the voice called by his name.
The more he would walk through those corridors, the more lost he seemed to be getting. And then, his headache reappeared as suddenly as it had been gone before. Sharp pricks took over any strength he might have had to think about anything other than the pain he felt. He knelt on the floor as he held his own head by the hair, the pain was worse than before, it looked like he was going to be sick at some point. He clung at one of the vines near him as he felt the blood drain from his hands as one of the thorns in a small pointed branch stung it with tremendous rage, but neither the blood nor the pain caused by the thorns seemed to matter more than the sting he felt in his mind.
'Do you think he can understand us?' asked Douglas's distinctive voice, which was echoing in his mind.
Once again he found himself stuck in the same bed he had dreamed into not  more than half an hour ago. The room and the situation were the same, he could see the doctor who was speaking towards the same voice that came from behind his head. Giovanni Dartagnan.
'I sure hope so.' said Mr. Dartagnan as he left the place where he was hiding for the first time and appeared in Jonas's field of vision. 'Can you hear me, boy?'
As much as he tried to enunciate, the words wouldn't leave his mouth and the only thing he could think about was how vivid those machines managed to make those lucid dreams be. 'If this is even a dream.' he thought as he reflected for the split of a second. He tried to open his mouth and shoot random words towards the two, who now looked at him with an air of curiosity as if he was a circus attraction.
No sound seemed to be eager to come out of his mouth.
'The effects don't seem to be over yet.' said Douglas as he continued to watch Jonas whilst biting the lid of a pen and holding a clipboard with his hand against his own leg.
For the first time in a few minutes, Jonas managed to reason with his own mind. 'Well, maybe this is not a dream after all.', he thought as he realised that this was the time he had taken the longest to get out of that weird trance. The other episode was very short, but this second one seemed to be a bit different. Although he couldn't move his lips and express the anger he was feeling, he was able to smell a strange odor that hung in the air. A distinct, unknown, and newly different odor to his sense of smell.
'Oh, fuck!' he shouted loudly as he realised he was back and had his hand clung with all the strength he could manage to a piece of vineyard in front of him.
Blood dripped from his hands, and the pain was tearing.
For a moment he tried to forget the pain in his hands and the migraine that still took over his thoughts. He had to get up before he had another one of those episodes and try to find his way out of that maze.
Jonas was distraught by the fact that he was unable to find the place from which he had come from. He had spent his childhood going to mazes - just like that one - and had always been the first of his friends to find the way out. It did not make sense that the path he had memorised would not take him back to the entrance, even though those places could be treacherous and play tricks on people's minds, his was not disturbed to a point that he couldn't find his way back by the few meters he had moved.
The more he walked, the more often he would find dead ends. He tried with all his might to forget the pain and continued to run through the maze.
'Jonas?'
The mysterious voice echoed through the corridors again.
That was quite disturbing as his concentration did not seem to be holding any course other than the search for an explanation for the psychotic flare-ups he had been experiencing for the past hour. He caught himself imagining the people back at the party having fun whilst dancing and drinking as he was stuck into a personal nightmare. Jonas even remembered hearing Lara Farlet comment that they would soon return to the Dream Room and experience again the incredible thing that was lucid dreaming. 'It would be great to be able to try it again...', he thought as he remembered the strange but incredible experience he had had just a few moments ago.
Jonas was stunned by how those things happened to him. It was not the first time that a different experience had gone badly. His friends always invited him to try new things, but he avoided any danger as he knew that the chance of error was great. He had no belief in silly superstitions neither he believed in luck, which made him even more enraged by the fact that he had to deprive himself of things like that as the feeling of adrenaline and doing the wrong thing gave him a great desired euphoria.
'I will find my way out.', he set up his mind after a few more minutes trying to find his way back by taking the route he had taken in, which made sense in his own head, as finding a point of return should not be so confusing. 'Maybe looking for  a different way would be a better option.'
The headache came with no warning once again to disturb him.
'I'm really starting to get worried. He was supposed to have woken up by now.' he heard Mr. Dartagnan's voice as he found himself stuck to the same bed.
He tried to speak, shout, and kick, but the commands he sent to his brain were not answered by the rest of the body. Whatever paranoia he was going through made Jonas realise that it was useless to keep making the same mistake over and over again. Every time he returned to that state of despair, the pains he felt disappeared, which gave him the chance to stop, think, and observe his surroundings.
The room he seemed to have been taken to was tiny, the walls were painted into a dark red, very similar to the room he had been in recently when he visited the doctors, and apart from the light that was pointed directly at him and overshadowed most of his vision, it didn't look like the place was being illuminated by anything else.
'We can only wait.' said Douglas whilst looking at the small monitor that connected some wires attached to his body. 'There is nothing abnormal with his monitoring.'
'Maybe we went to far on the dosage of the drug...' Dartagnan looked slightly worried.
Jonas realised that the drug Rodrigo had given him would have been intentionally changed, but he couldn't imagine his best friend being part of anything that would harm him in any way. Furthermore, Mr. Dartagnan's tone of concern brought him some comfort. Whatever experiments they were doing on him shouldn't have the purpose of harming him, otherwise the conversation between the two would be something very different.
In addition to the bed, the monitor, and the strong beam of light redirected straight to his face, Jonas was able to notice that they both were wearing the same clothes as before. Dartagnan was dressed to impress, and Douglas was wearing the same casual outfit from when he had been in his care recently. A small, half-open cupboard was situated to his left, but the slope of the bed was not favourable for him to see much.
He went on to put together a mental list of things that, until now, he could understand: 'I was drugged wrongfully and intentionally, which is causing me hallucinations and a strong headache; Mr. Dartagnan and the doctor are concerned for my well-being; neither Lara nor Rodrigo seem to be aware of my situation; I can reason better whilst I am in this situation; I, too, am lost in a maze and no one else seems to know about my whereabouts.'
Jonas took advantage of the fact that the two of them were not speaking anything interesting anymore and tried to mentalize his situation to understand what still did not make sense: 'I do not understand if this is a hallucination or not; if not, what would be the real reality; if I am drugged, when will the effect cease; I need to find the end of this maze and seek the help of Rodrigo and Lara.'
Nothing but that made sense to him.
As he ran back through the maze, which now seemed to be an infinite and much larger nuisance that was slowly taking the will to live out of him, Jonas sought to understand why his mind was playing tricks on him and confusing every aspect of his reality. It was obvious that this was some effect of the drug Rodrigo had given him before they entered the Dream Room, but why had Giovanni Dartagnan chosen him for what seemed to be a mock experiment? Why couldn't he express himself and move when he woke up in that other reality?
The race through the corridors was becoming tiresome and, as much as he tried to ignore it, his headache continued to block his better perception of the path he was taking. Jonas had given up trying to memorize the wrong roads as he searched for his way out of that place, he only tried to find corridors with clear exits and that could have a chance of showing an exit or any kind of flaw in those concrete walls that would let him out. 'It was not my best judgment to enter this place knowing my situation.', he reflected as he tried to find the answers to the questions that were consuming his will to go on.
Fatigue finally washed over his body. The exhaustion was not physical, but mental. Jonas had been trying to stay focused despite the headache, whilst the blood on his hands had dried with the cold wind whistling through the maze corridors and giving the place an even eerier atmosphere. As he suddenly stopped he did not seek to observe his surroundings, but to close his eyes and focus his thoughts on a possible solution to all of his dilemmas.
And that was in vain.
He opened his eyes again and leaned slowly against the vines, adjusting his back so that nothing else would hurt his already bruised body. He stretched his arms and twisted his neck as if he was trying to seek comfort, that's when he stopped to observe the place where he had arrived. A statue stuck in the ground appeared through his field of vision, some kind of butterfly carved out of some type of black stone, very similar to the one that streaked the backyard staircase.
Jonas could not distinguish the butterfly, after all he didn't leave much of the urban center where he lived and had never been a frequent visitor to the bucolic scene, but what caught his attention to the most was the small saying embedded in the lighter coloured stone that gave support to the distinguished insect: 'Veritas Semper Una Est.'. he had never been an religious person, but he had been educated as a catholic and remembered a few teachings he had had during the arduous agony of taking catechism classes in his childhood. 'Truth is always one,' he recalled a painting that hung in the classroom where he slept most of the time whilst an old and confused priest spoke in a chaotic tone. Of course, that made no sense to Jonas, he hadn't thought of god or religion in a very long time. His life had taken a path that, for him, it made no sense at all to believe in any mythological creed that sought a superior being to be its leader as he had never benefited from miracles.
'Veritas Semper Una Est.' he said aloud without knowing if he was pronouncing that thing correctly, but he couldn't find any meaning in the words. 'Mr. Dartagnan must be a very religious man.', he thought as he stopped observing the biblical saying and turned his attention to the butterfly statue.
He was unable to remember the symbolic meaning that the insect displayed within christianity, but that butterfly did not seem to be something that had 'god in its heart'. It had its antennae tied by a knot and its wings cut symmetrically in the exact half, which could only mean something pejorative to the insect's life. His state of mind was in no shape for deciphering puzzles at that moment, much less to give thought to what it might be doing in that maze. He had enough problems as it was.
His head throbbed again with full force. The images of the small statue and the shadowy butterfly were then replaced by the red room once again. His head stopped pounding and he decided to take the time he would be staying in that trance to reflect on what he could do to get out of that situation.
'I think he won't get out of this trance anytime soon.' started Douglas as he spoke directly to Giovanni. 'Maybe we should start the procedure with him asleep, I can give him a strong sedative.'
Upon hearing that, Jonas went into despair. As if he wasn't confused enough trying to understand things whilst he was awake, now they wanted to put him in a state of deep sleep. Surely his subconscious would mix reality with the mess of the two mental planes that had been changing places in his mind without even asking permission. Desperation increased when he observed that the doctor, after receiving a positive signal from Mr. Dartagnan, was bringing a needle to his arm. The last thing he remembered before going to sleep was seeing the inverted cross tattooed on his left arm. 'This can only be real...', he thought before falling asleep and being sent into the deepest of his own mind.
Jonas woke up drooling in one of his own bloody hands, his body shivering with cold. As the vegetation mixed up with the humidity, it did not live up to the beautiful moonlit that still lit up the night sky.
He couldn't remember anything he had dreamt, but he had a clear feeling that it was something very strange as he was forced into that state of deep sleep. He was even more confused when he realised that he had fallen asleep on both of his realities, in fact, he had no idea of what he was doing on one of the places whilst his mind was conscious on the other one. His brain could no longer keep up with the reasoning of the whole story that had been going on during the night. 'This must be a very strong drug.', he thought as he tried to calm himself down by convincing himself that what was happening was just a strong side-effect of the drug and that soon his body would eliminate any left-over residues from it.
He got up and tried to force himself to urinate near the statue of the macabre butterfly, the headache had passed, just like when he slept at the party and he was wondering how long he had been unconscious, but he didn't look at the clock because he didn't know what time it was when Douglas had injected him with that sedative. It had been a long time since he had joined his hands in order to pray and, as he did it, he tried to find meaning on something he didn't even believe in anymore. Jonas realised he was talking to the walls as he felt a new sting in the same arm as the inverted cross was drawn.
Before rolling up his sleeves he closed his eyes and pleaded that nothing sinistre would appear over there. His mind was about to go crazy and he didn't know if he could hold on to sanity for much longer if mysterious spells continued to take over reality.
The plea, once again, was in vain.
'Fallacia Alia Aliam Trudit.'. his brain stopped as he read those words aloud - probably with an odd pronunciation - and panic finally overtook his actions.