There was no more time, no more feelings, no more words. There was only one thing — darkness. Blackness surrounded me on all sides, but despite that, it didn't frighten me. It didn't hold me back. It only wrapped me in a light haze. Something told me that if I made a careless move, it would not like that. Like an all-consuming organism, it would start absorbing everything without a trace. But if I played by its rules, then…
Then what? The intuitive understanding didn't push me away; on the contrary, it grew inside me with a viscous calm. It enveloped me like a cradle with a soft featherbed and carried me far away from here. Only I had forgotten where "here" was, and I couldn't remember.
Or maybe I didn't want to remember.
As if overhearing my thoughts, the darkness loosened its embrace. I became a guest who was allowed to be in this space and was inexplicably trusted. The sensation of my own body returned to me, and only then did I feel how cold and damp it was in this place. If my legs hadn't been floating in weightlessness, I could have guessed I was in a dark basement or a drainage ditch, but there was no stench, no creaking floorboards, no trickling water.
Who am I?
The answer to this silent question came as a brief flash of light in the distance. At first, it seemed like a trick of consciousness: not finding anything to fix my gaze on in the utter darkness, my brain had begun inventing bizarre patterns. But no. Soon another flash appeared, and this time I would have sworn it was a little closer. I wanted to move toward the fleeting glimmer, but I had no idea how. The darkness held me in serene weightlessness, and it was impossible to find any support to push off from. Then I tried to spread my arms to the sides, and for a moment, it seemed like something was holding them back: I could barely move them, but I didn't give up. I relaxed my wrist for a moment, trying to catch the point where the tension started. Carefully, I twisted my wrist, and although I still saw nothing, it felt as if I sensed something around my skin. Some kind of fabric or something similar in texture. Preparing myself, I tensed my arms strongly and pulled with all my might. My skin immediately burned unpleasantly, but it didn't last long, and I was able to move more freely in space.
As soon as I tried to spread my arms to the sides again, my palms felt a solid barrier. It was enough to push off from. My body moved forward by inertia. I leaned my torso in the direction of movement, trying to find balance. The pale flicker in the darkness stopped flickering. The light was calling me, and I obediently followed its call. I pushed off again and again, but with each effort, I only got slightly closer.
I don't know how long this went on. At some point, when vague outlines began to appear in the faint light, the surrounding space filled with sounds. They resembled the quiet crackling I heard every time I pressed the button on the TV remote for a channel with no broadcast.
I pushed off two more times and felt tired for the first time. The human seemed to be returning to me, reclaiming piece by piece of my consciousness from the darkness, and I would be lying to myself if I said I liked it. Non-being attracted me with a peace I had been deprived of lately in real life, but that damn light wouldn't let me stay. It pulled me irresistibly, like gravity pulling an apple to the ground. If I wanted to resist the almost obsessive urge to see what was on the other side, it probably wouldn't have worked. Deep inside, I felt something important was happening. Something that couldn't be missed or ignored.
The point grew larger and larger, gradually stretching taller and turning into something oval-shaped. Soon it looked like a large glowing figure from the inside, which became less bright as I got closer, as if purposely so I could keep watching. The premonition that I had to see something important never left me. There was nothing but light, no matter how hard I tried to look closer. Attempts to make out anything seemed useless, but there were also sounds.
What started as white noise became clearer and clearer. Soon I could distinguish echoes of a familiar voice begging:
"Please, let me go. Please! I haven't done anything bad to you or your family."
The three phrases repeated over and over. It could have sounded like a recording if the voice hadn't grown more plaintive with each repetition. It definitely belonged to a man, but I couldn't understand why I felt such a sorrowful ache squeezing my heart beneath my ribs. Approaching the light almost fully, I touched it. The veil immediately lifted, and out of surprise, I pulled my hand back, not understanding what had happened. I saw a blurred reflection of my palm on the surface, as if it were mirrored, but at the same time strange. Wrong.
The object resembled a flat oval mirror, human-sized. But it didn't reflect what was happening in the darkness; rather, it worked like a window into another place. The place from which the voice came.
Listening to myself, I tried to run through the voices of close people in my head, but nothing worked. I distinctly remembered only my father's timbre, but the one begging clearly wasn't him. Then why was I so uneasy inside?
I pushed off with my palms one last time, hoping to get through, but I hit the light's smooth surface like a barrier. How could this be? It was nothing like what I expected.
"Please, no!"
The voice grew even louder. It almost turned into a scream, and it seemed the person on the other side was no longer begging but going mad with despair.
"Please, stop! It hurts! It hurts!"
"Hey! Can you hear me?" I blurted out, and I started pounding on the "glass."
There was no response. The white noise was joined by the growling roar of a saw.
"No! No, stop!"
"I'm here! Open up! Stop! You have no right!" My voice broke, and my fists ached from the pain, but I didn't stop. There was someone behind the mirror desperately needing help, and if I could do anything, it was at least to draw the attacker's attention to myself.
But I failed. The screams continued. One terrifying sound was joined by others, and the nightmare had no end. I was gasping for breath, barely managing to fill my lungs to scream louder. Hot tears washed over my cheeks in helplessness, but I didn't care. The only thing that mattered was this person behind the barrier. A person I hadn't even seen but somehow knew and reached out to with every fiber of my soul.
A silhouette flashed before my eyes. It was as bright as the surrounding space, as if several spotlights had been directed at him. The bulky hood of his cloak covered two-thirds of his face, leaving only his lips visible. As if in autofocus, the image sharpened while I watched the stranger. His mouth twitched in contempt, baring even teeth. My gaze immediately caught a pronounced fang, one I had already noticed on familiar vampires. The stranger must have seen me just as clearly as I saw him. There was no point in screaming anymore. I was waiting for the next move, not knowing what this creature had in mind.
And I wish I hadn't known.
With a commanding movement, the stranger grabbed the armrest of the high-backed chair, behind which only the crown of someone's head appeared, and my breath caught as soon as I made out the hair color. On the short sandy-golden waves were bloody streaks.
No, it can't be.
The stranger was about to fully enjoy my reaction before turning the chair around and revealing who was sitting in it. The snarl changed into a satisfied smile that twisted something inside me. He was feeding on my fear, and once he started his meal, he couldn't stop. Like a magician during a show, the stranger theatrically swept his hand across the space, as if introducing a new actor, and finally turned the chair. My lips trembled when the suspicion was confirmed.
"Nik."