The Second Punic War

I suddenly woke up to find The Second Punic War sleeping next to me. I fearfully poked him (or her) on the shoulder, but he (or she) did not wake up at all. I looked around to see what was going on, but there was nothing out of the ordinary in the room, just The Second Punic War sleeping next to me. I called my wife’s name. My wife is usually sleeping there. She is still young, four years younger than me. But she was nowhere to be found. Only The Second Punic War was there.

I slowly raised myself up and went to the kitchen. And there I had a few glasses of water, and after a little hesitation I had a whiskey. After all, there was The Second Punic War in the bedroom. I would not be blamed if I drank a small amount of alcohol. When I looked at the clock, it was half past one in the morning. Then, as I calculated in my head, my wife and I went to bed at 10:30 p.m., so something must have happened during those three hours. As a result, my wife disappeared somewhere, and in her place lay dormant The Second Punic War.

I tried to remember in my head what The Second Punic War was like. But it didn’t work out at all. Because it was the middle of the night -and in no small part because I was so disturbed - I had no recollection of what it was like. I know a lot about the Trojan War, for example, because I read Homer. Also... yes, I know the details of World War I and World War II very well. I’m personally interested in those things and have read a lot of books on them.

But when it came to The Second Punic War, I was totally out of the loop. Was it during this war that Caesar crossed the Rubicon River? But when I tried to remember it, I felt a tingling pain in the back of my head. It was unusual. I don’t know why. Or maybe the memory was intimately connected to something deep inside me - something that usually never comes to the surface.

I lingered like that in the kitchen for a while, but even as I waited like this, time hardly moved forward. It seems that time has slowed down its progress. Even though ten minutes had passed, it took about ten times as long as usual. This is no good, I thought. In order to resolve this situation, I must return to the bedroom no matter what.

But I was reluctant. I felt like I wanted to leave everything as it is and see what happens after that. It’s better to have as little to do with things like that as possible. But suddenly thoughts of my wife crossed my mind. She disappeared somewhere. There was no sign that she was in any other room. When I looked at the entrance, I found that her shoes, which were supposed to be there, were gone. Then, she left somewhere.

Or maybe she’ll never come back, I thought to myself. I didn’t know why something like that would happen, but for some reason I had a feeling that it would. Had I done something wrong? But I couldn’t remember anything. I had had a personal conversation at work with a female employee who seemed to have some kind of interest in me, but that was it. We never met outside of the office.

We hardly even fought. How did it turn out like this? Suddenly, without any warning. But the answer was already decided. It’s all because of The Second Punic War.

I made up my mind and decided to go back into the bedroom. I went to the door once, but suddenly I had an idea and went back to the kitchen and came back with a knife. Of course I wasn’t trying to kill him (or her). It was only a weapon for self-defense. After all, what lies there is a bloody war itself. I didn’t know what was going to happen.

I quietly opened the bedroom door. Holding the knife firmly ready to respond to a surprise attack. But nothing happened. There was nothing different from when I had come out earlier. It was the same bedroom as usual. But when I looked over the bed, I realized that what I saw there was no longer The Second Punic War. It was my very own wife there. Four years younger than me, still young, still beautiful.

I just stared at her, stunned, with the knife in my right hand. What in the world had happened, I wondered. I was sure that The Second Punic War had been here just a moment ago. I had seen it with my own eyes. And I had even brought a knife to fight it. What in the world had happened?

At that moment, my wife stirred and said something in her sleep. Then she slowly opened her eyes.

“What are you doing?” She said, still half asleep.

I was standing there holding a knife, but I hurriedly hid it behind my back. “No, it’s nothing,” I said, trying to remain calm. “You can still sleep.”

She mumbled something again and drifted back into her deep, peaceful sleep. I sat down on a nearby chair and just stared at the bed in a daze. Was I seeing an illusion? Was I just crazy? But I had a strong hunch that that would not be the case. I smelled The Second Punic War with my nose, and I saw it so closely. That was real; unadulterated and pure.

Then I saw my wife’s shoes on the floor. These were the shoes that had been missing from the doorway earlier. Then I thought to myself, “Well, that means she went somewhere and just came back from there. I was not crazy after all.”

At that moment, I suddenly felt something behind me. It was a deadly presence. There was no doubt about it. This was clearly the atmosphere of The Second Punic War. I readied my knife again and looked right back. But there was no one there, except for a blank wall. I was at a loss. What on earth was his (or her) purpose?Was it to disturb my life and consciousness in this way?

“That’s not true,” a voice suddenly said from somewhere. It was a deep, male voice. I couldn’t quite make out where the voice was coming from. “I came here for a reason,” it said. Apparently, The Second Punic War himself was speaking.

“What does it mean?” I asked tentatively.

Then he said, “This is what I mean,” and suddenly grabbed my arm tightly. Or rather, that’s how I felt. Although I couldn’t see him, he was definitely there. I tried to move, but now he was holding me back completely. The knife I was holding in my right hand fell to the floor with a clang. My wife, who was sleeping, woke up when she heard the sound. She opened her eyes wide, raised her upper body from the bed, and stared at me. “Why is that thing on the floor?” she asked, but I couldn’t reply. Because The Second Punic War had silenced me. She eventually got off the bed and walked slowly to pick up the knife, and stared at it intently. “What were you going to do with this?” She said in a faint, very small voice.

I still couldn’t say anything. Then suddenly somewhere again The Second Punic War spoke. “He was trying to stab you with this,” he said.

I didn’t know if his voice had actually reached her properly. However, the purpose seemed to be clearly conveyed. She just stood there, her eyes wide open and staring at me. I, on the other hand, couldn’t move at all and was sitting lazily on a chair. I wondered to myself why this guy was doing this. What does he gain by doing this?

“I mean,” he said, immediately reading my thoughts. “I needed to show you the truth. That’s why I’m doing this. Only then can you inherit your qualification for The Second Punic War.”

Inherit? I thought. Why should I inherit something like that?

“It’s decided,” he said again. “You can’t escape from it. That’s your fate. And that’s what war means.”

Now my wife was standing still, pointing the tip of the knife at me. I didn’t know what she was thinking, but something seemed to be controlling her consciousness. Something different from her usual self. It was obvious by looking into her eyes. Something darker and bloodier. Something wild. I could see that her eyes were shining brightly. Without saying a word, she thrust the tip of the knife into my heart…

Then something happened. Something had come between me and the knife. I couldn’t see it, but it was something very solid. It embedded the knife inside itself and snapped off the tip of the knife (It disappeared somewhere). She stood there dumbfounded for a moment as she looked at the broken knife, but then she let the handle fall to the floor. Then, as if nothing had happened, she turned around and slowly went back into bed.

I felt freedom returning to me. When I tried moving my fingertips, they moved normally as before. But even then, I didn’t have the energy to move. My mind was as tattered and exhausted as a worn-out rag. I couldn’t even keep my eyes open. So I decided to just close my eyes and fall into a deep sleep. The voice of The Second Punic War was still echoing in my head.

“Look, starting tomorrow, you are The Second Punic War….”

When I woke up the next morning, I had become The Second Punic War. There was no logic to it, it just happened. I had no choice but to accept it and live. That was my destiny. When I got up from my chair and opened the curtains, the gentle morning light flooded into the room. I could feel some sort of violent energy rising within my body. An ancient energy.

I just kept looking outside while feeling it. What I could see from there was a narrow road and power lines. It’s not particularly beautiful or anything. It would be better if they were not there. But both of them had now been reborn. I could see that. Eventually, my wife got up and stood right behind me. And then she said, “Hey, I had the strangest dream yesterday. I dreamed that I became World War II. Can you imagine such a thing?I was the war itself. Not just a part of it, but the whole thing. And I was going to stab you to death with a kitchen knife. That’s the weirdest dream I’ve ever had.”

I nodded and said, “Yes, that was a really weird dream.” Then I went to the kitchen to get a new breakfast for my new self.