The Devil

I was in a wide metallic tunnel with blue reflections. Neon lights sizzled on the ceiling, pouring out a harsh, blinding light. Drops of water were falling noisily on the floor. The sounds were strangely distorted, as if I was underwater. There was also breathing sound ricocheting off the walls and extending into infinity.
A sharp, steady clatter drew my attention: a woman was walking in front of me, on the ceiling, thus upside down, defying all laws of gravity. Dressed in an elegant black suit, she seemed deeply anachronistic with the place. Her heels, about twenty centimeters high and of a surreal red color, were giving the impression of coming from another world. They were punctuating the frequency of the light and the fall of the drops of water. Hypnotized, I followed her, and suddenly realized that the woman was speaking. I approached her. Still with her back turned, she was walking briskly and was giving explanations about the Quattrocento, as if she were giving a guided tour of a museum:

-.”..The Quattrocento, which means one thousand four hundred in Italian, refers to the period of the first renaissance that took place in the fifteenth century in Italy...” Other voices started emerging:
-”But what is he doing? So strange...” There was something engraved on the sole of her heels. I squinted. It was the number fifteen.
-”The painters, eager to return to an era similar to that of antiquity, which they considered a golden age, revolutionized all the aesthetic codes of the time by abolishing the gilding that abounded in the works of their time and by giving personality to their subjects. In this painting for example, by Nicolo dell'Abbate entitled "The Abduction of Prosperine", we can see that...” And she pointed to the smooth wall of the tunnel while continuing her explanations.

Prosperine, the divinity who descended into the underworld... I shuddered, feeling fear rise in me. The tunnel seemed to lead to an underworld. Was this tunnel an illusion? Or was the lady an illusion? She did not seem to see the tunnel. Her mind must have been somewhere else, but her body was there.

-”I don't understand," I said aloud.

Unaware of my presence until now, she stopped abruptly. With her eyes still fixed on her heels, I saw her slowly turn toward me on the tips of her shoes. I raised my head to look up to her face, but just as I was about to see her, I was thrown into another place. I was now in a museum, in a room dedicated to the Renaissance period. A group of children, probably on a school trip, were looking at me warily. I had been called out.

-”What?” I said, turning back to the woman in the double-breasted suit.

She was the one I had seen in the tunnel and she was looking at me, panicked. I wanted to say something, but I woke up at that moment. I laid on my back for a long moment staring at the ceiling. Something had changed.