Chapter 10: In the Middle Of Nowhere

While all of this was happening, across the Panem border and over the oceans, there was a cottage in the middle of nowhere in Serbia. The walls of this cottage were made out of wood and bore marks that showed it had endured several generations' worth of climate change and visible wear and tear. Its wooden walls were built a few centimeters thick to keep out the cold, considering that Serbia experienced very harsh winters that lasted for months on end. Inside the cottage, the walls were insulated with thick animal fur to retain heat and make it possible for someone to live comfortably.

It was near the end of winter, and winds were blowing at high speeds, carrying thick snow and making the environment unpleasant and visibility difficult. Despite the harsh cold conditions in the area, a thick cloud of smoke rose from the chimney of the house. With nearly the entire rooftop covered in snow, the chimney was the only visible part. The rest of the house looked like a white blanket had been laid out on top. Three men approached the house, two of them carrying luggage while the third had nothing on him. They walked up to the door, shaking off the snow from their clothes. The man in the middle, who was empty-handed, knocked on the door three times and put his hand down, patiently waiting for a response.

After a few seconds, they could hear someone walking up to the door. Heavy footsteps approached and stopped at the door, followed by a brief silence. Then, the sound of around three or four door locks being opened. With the last lock, the door slowly opened from the inside, revealing the man living inside the cottage. He opened the door and ushered them in, checking their surroundings. As soon as they walked in, he quickly glanced outside before locking the door to ensure they weren't being followed.

"We came here alone, as usual. No one followed us," the man who had led the other two spoke out when he noticed what the resident of the cottage was doing. But the resident remained silent, looking at them as if waiting for them to state their reason for visiting him. Instinctively, the two with the luggage, a man and a woman, took them to the small kitchen and started to unpack. They had brought essential foodstuffs and toiletries, which they unpacked and arranged in their rightful places. While they did this, the two men, the leader of the three and the cottage resident, exchanged silent glances without uttering a word to each other.

"Miguel, we're all done here," the lady said, referring to their leader.

"Okay, you can have a seat and rest a bit," Miguel told them.

The silent stare-down continued until the resident got up from his seat and went by the fireplace, where he had started a fire to keep the room warm, to the point where one wouldn't even think it was snowing outside. He sat by the fireplace, feeding more wood to the flaming fire slowly.

"You know, it wouldn't hurt to say thank you once in a while," Miguel said, glancing over his shoulder at the luggage they had just brought to this man in the middle of nowhere, in the midst of what seemed to be a blizzard. The man looked at him and then at his colleagues, giving a smirk.

"I guess that will do for today," one of Miguel's colleagues said, letting out a chuckle.

"Do you know what it takes to bring you all this stuff?" Miguel asked, but all he got was silence in response. Just a blank stare that seemed unimpressed but dared him to go on about how hard it was to bring him the things they had.

"It's been months since we started bringing you these things, and all you do is just stare at us or groan. I've always wondered what you do to live out here all by yourself. No wife or kids, not even a picture of any loved ones around," Miguel continued, surveying the room. "It's almost as if you're hiding from something or someone. If it weren't for the money we get for doing these deliveries, I would never find myself near this place ever again."

The man continued with his blank stare at Miguel, as if he didn't understand a word Miguel had said. After a short pause, the man returned to his seat, sat across from Miguel, and looked him dead in the eye. For the first time, Miguel saw that this man actually understood what he had said, judging by the expression on his face. The man smirked, but this time, his smirk was not the usual one. There was something sinister in his smirk that sent chills down Miguel's spine. To make sure he wasn't alone, Miguel turned to his other colleagues and confirmed that they could also sense the sinister intentions behind the smirk.

He leaned over to Miguel and mumbled something in a low tone. Miguel, not quite understanding what he was being told, leaned back and tried to repeat what he had heard, but it all came out gibberish. The man repeated what he had said, but this time, a bit louder. The only problem now was that Miguel couldn't understand a thing, as the man was speaking a different language. He rose to his feet and muttered something else in the same language before heading to his room and shutting the door behind him.

Confused, Miguel turned to his colleagues for answers. The lady looked at Miguel, and instantly, he knew she had understood the man. So he asked her to interpret.

"He spoke in Russian, and if I'm not mistaken, these were his exact words: 'The Ghost is coming for me. Days and months will pass, but I know he'll come for me. There's nowhere I can hide that he won't find me, so I'll be ready. And once the wind settles, you can leave and kindly lock the door behind you.'"