The scaffold

THE SCAFFOLD




A midget, named Alaric, is too tired being a slave running from a bear. A state executioner doesn’t really remember how many ‘state enemies’ he has already executed.  A prisoner of a labor camp is a macabre death.
The regime has been cultivating hatred and wrath inside of them which are going to burst out at a certain day.








PROLOGUE

Is he saying a sermon? This one is a nutty thing. We should beware of him.
How did I end up here?
From all the people I have ever seen this one is an absolute top of madness. My profession is like a door to a dark world. There are men with strange and sometimes pretty distorted traits. If you just had a little talk with a couple of them you would likely get sick. They used to have pretty weird small talks. So, I worked with them every day but as I have already said this guy is a rare piece. It would blow your brains out to know what he is desperately going to commit.
The scaffold. I am familiar with every fucking part of it - how it is constructed, how it works and what can happen if it is not checked properly before the moment when... don’t care. It is a job for ill minded people.
How I got here?  The way of the righteous is mysterious. It is not that I am righteous. I mean it is never insured in that life.
Once a smart man said that a great civilization is not conquered from without until it has destroyed itself from within. The same stays for me, words of a certain man wouldn’t have affected me if I hadn’t been already done and destroyed inside. That is why on the one hand I never expected myself to get here, but on the other hand it is a sequence of logic consequences.
I can’t say that I don’t care about being here with a noose around my neck. I am fucking frightened and about to cry for mercy. I would kneel and beg for letting me go and do some dirty job till the end of my poor life but I won’t. I just hate this crowd in front of me and those assholes in front of televisions eager to watch my convulsing body. I would build up a wall around this stadium and burn them all.
Have you ever heard about death erection? It is exactly what sometimes happens. When an executioner cuts you down all that pressure that has been built up inside your body makes blood flow into the lower body.
I shouldn’t waste my minutes for that all. I would rather think about my mom and other people who treated me in a really noble way. I should regret much. I am far from being a righteous one.
However, what the shit should I be that I don’t think about that. Two reasons.
The first reason is that madcap standing next to me, determined to pronounce his last word. Why I know it? That is the second reason. Till the day I got arrested I had been a state executioner.






PAUL

The manifest. To benefit from the book to the best advantage you should clearly understand what it incarnates otherwise a medicine becomes a poison. The bible didn’t aim mass killings but it led to that.

June, 4

Life is said to be a complicated thing. My parents were straitlaced people with pretty strict life view. The both of them never stopped fostering love, respect, tolerance and other virtues in me never getting tired of reiterating that the most crucial and challenging thing was to follow these values.
‘To be a worthy man is the hardest thing. You must always remain a human.’ They said.
It has been years since I opened the first page of Theo’s Manifest. The guidance of being a worthy citizen of a worthy state. Today I am a grown up respected man with clearly defined view and social position but…
Once I gave a presentation about my profession in a state school. The children had the manifests laying in front of them. As soon as I had started talking about my profession and its social value I immediately bumped into a gap – a dissonance – between the life I had been experiencing and what was written in the manifest. I managed to talk my way out of that dead end but there was still a bitter aftertaste behind my tongue.
The point is that life isn’t a complicated thing. We just make it complicated. Somehow we have to cause there is a huge cliff between our vision of a world and a real world. Thus, you got two options – to end up in the cliff or follow this well-trodden path on the bridge mounted over the cliff. The self-preservation instinct leads us over the bridge but you never ever get rid of that dissonance. That is how we unwillingly make life so complicated.
Briefly about me. I am a development manager on the state TV channel. My everyday is reading ratings. It is not that knotty cause people are predictable. We all have the same instincts and needs. The same hunger. Feeding the dragon with the same dish you have just to know to season them with salt and pepper.

‘Do you know why “the accidents” comes on air four times a day per twenty minutes but not once eighty minutes in the evening?’
The trainees were both so worried that looked like psychos with a panic attack. Frozen on the edge of nervous apoplexy. The boy seemed to be just overwhelmed by the ambient and stuff he had already seen. The girl was a case a way more complicated. Her appearance raised concerns. I didn’t know what I would rather prepare for – calling a doctor or a policeman.
‘So?’  I reminded about myself.
‘Mmm,’  the boy tried. ‘Like keeping people on a leash?’
‘A good answer,‘ I said and looked at the girl. She was getting unhealthy red.
‘Are you ok?’  I asked her. ‘Water?’
‘No, thanks, I am just a bit nervous.’
A bit nervous. If someone really panicked one pushed a double barreled gun into my mouth and started furiously roaring something in an unknown language - I would look a bit nervous.
‘The secret is that between watercolor paintings exhibitions and a mad suicide jump from the roof you choose the suicide jump but you don’t want to contemplate smashed brains for more than an hour. That is why we show you a suicide and spare your emotional self from mental collapse.’
‘Like we need a pause?’ the boy asked.
‘You are a smart guy,‘ I noticed his incredible grasp of the obvious.
Suddenly I got an idea. I was supposed to partially curate them both but I didn’t have enough time and wish. That was why I had to figure out the process somehow to keep them busy and myself apart from babysitting.
‘An idea, guys! I need four accidents to show. Find me something really gripping out. Besides, I would like to know why you have chosen them. You see, I want to see that thinking process. Got?’
‘Got,‘ uncertainly said the boy.
The girl nodded.
I smiled.
‘So, go work, guys.’
They looked at each other. Stood up. Hesitating. Uncertain. Left.
I remember my first task. My acquaintance called me in an hour. Just a call. For nothing. He quickly mentioned that one of the servants in the propaganda was really gone mad. He closed himself in the office and let no one inside. He didn’t want to speak to anybody. It was told he had known something he shouldn’t. He was shouting, blaming someone and incessantly crying he couldn’t proceed like that. Something like he was a man of honor and so on.
I decided it could be a report. Anyway I didn’t have any idea. It was time when people got finally tired from reality shows with staged quarrels and fights. People like saw that days of showing that crap were numbered. It was a time to move on and we knew it.
A certain guy, who then advanced to the channel CEO,  got a sudden opportunity and made a video report on a fire in ten stored building. There were clerks jumping out of the windows in a desperate attempt to save their lives. They fell down with distinctive sound of a fallen flesh bag. Some passers-by vomited. There was a man on the ground. He was still alive. He couldn’t cry, he couldn’t speak. He was just moaning. It was obvious that he was in shock and would die.
The report made a breakthrough the channel needed. He got an inspiration – people need real pain, suffering, blood and ferocity.
Thus, when I had finally came to make a report about a madcap in the office I found that the man was already on the edge of the roof shouting out that no one knew what was going on and what expected all of us. People were just staring at him waiting for a decision to come. I switched on the cam. He said something and stepped forward.
The camera caught a man falling down and getting smashed against the asphalt. My first time. I didn’t eat a couple of days and had a headache. The chief said that no one had ever made such a start and a couple of days he gave me just easy paper work. No stress. The colleagues supported me constantly inquiring about my state.
Today I am heading the development. I am figuring out what to show to ease public’s hunger. Ten years ago it was a suicide that shocked them.
Today you need a suicide not to disappoint them.

In ten minutes at my boss.
‘The midgets’ ratings never sink.’
‘They are midgets. They are like damaged ones.’
‘It is a secret?’
‘Kind of and they let you interact. You can do to them something bad like throwing tomatoes and eggs into them. It is like watching porn. You can just watch it on TV but it would provide a way greater impact if you would watch it in real or participate. The secret is that there is no wall between you and action.‘
‘Porn won’t solve the problems.’
‘Sure but this wall is our bread and somehow we have to deal with it.‘
‘Do you have some ideas there?’
‘Working on it.’
‘What is about “the accidents”?’
‘Some drops detected but no real alarms. They show the highest numbers of all.‘
‘I mean, we can’t show too many suicides. It is creating a bad picture. The data show too many people today commit suicides but we can’t reflect it even if it makes good ratings and it is not a request.’
‘I got and…we have a couple of ideas but still raw ones. Need a time.’
Our usual everyday talk of nothing. In the course of thirty minutes I am reporting on ratings which never show drastic iterations. A bit decreased. A bit increased.
People are like fight dogs, you throw them a piece of raw meat and they eat it.
The same reaction. The same hunger. From time to time they show greater enthusiasm but there are still rare moments when they act a bit lazy.
Whatever said, they eat the meat. They need that and their tastes never change.
After a short break in the canteen I went to my office - a citadel of news coming from the frontline. Videos from surveillance cameras, reports and occasional videos made by lucky witnesses of another accident.
‘What is that?’
‘A municipal worker.’
Lovren is on videos sent via our channel platform for freelancers. During the day he has to watch tens of shocking videos. Some of them aren’t that shocking. After eyeing another jumper convulsing on the ground people show a poor reaction to the scene where cat was devouring a pigeon.
‘And?’
‘Claiming he has seen a giant rat.’
‘Giant?’
‘Giant as a schoolboy.’
‘He compared a rat to a schoolboy?’
‘An eight years schoolboy.’
‘Do they exist? I mean giant rats.’
He looked at me and shrugged the shoulders.
‘Do we need him?’
‘Not for “the accidents”. For an article he would suit.’
‘Ok, then send them. We need something bloody.’
We need something bloody. And now you understand what I felt like when children wanted to hear from me about the reality of my profession. At the same time they were daily taught what was written in the manifest. A book about perfect state with developed culture and healthy morality. A book revealing history of how hard was the way to the state we have come to. Many people died. Much blood spilled. Generations went lost to create a new state for a new generation. Its philosophy. Its state of things how they should be to avoid what had happened before.
The children are idolizing the manifest. We all did and do.
What should I talk if my profession is to show blood in the state where no blood is supposed to be. A new order. The first thing they did were labor camps for those who searched for incompliances.
Lovren called me.
‘Got!’
I came up to him.
‘Look, car accident. A motorcyclist run over by a truck.’
‘Oh, fuck.’
There was a motorcycle. Absolutely damaged. Disintegrated.
‘What is about a body?’ I asked him.
He scrolled the video.
‘That is it.’
You don’t want to eat after you see that.
‘You see. Motorcyclists have these uniforms. It is like a bag for what is left.’
‘Yeah,‘ messy scenes. ‘That is what we need. Do it for the evening.’
There is a guy torn apart by a fight dog. An industrial glass fallen down on a car parked with two men inside. We always have something to show but we need a breakthrough and I have ideas. Besides, I have an ace hidden. There are many freelancers working for us for a certain amount paid for a video but among them there is a diamante.  An absolutely nutty one. The man is told to be a real sadist. If something explodes, if someone is burnt, torn apart lying in a pool of his own blood moaning something like “tell my mom I am loving her so much”, this one is coming up to him to capture his suffering. I don’t like him, a fucking psycho, but the channel needs him and it would be better for everyone if I keep this monster on a short leash. Honestly, I am afraid of him.
I have a file with the names of all my freelancers with nicknames shown under videos I used to create for them out of confidential considerations. It is needed for keeping things in order.
His nickname is Shoggoth. You know this disgusting, loathsome and repulsive creature from Lovekraft’s Mountains of madness. He is a night creature looking for death and ferocity. As I know, he doesn’t need money as much as he needs to ease his sadistic hunger by entering the scenes of extreme ferocity and special pleasure he takes from watching his videos on the screen. A maniac. Wouldn’t you be afraid of this monster? I do.
‘The boss says we need a breakthrough.’
‘So,‘ Lovren leant back.
‘I have something in a pocket.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘Think a bit, what keeps the ratings high?’
‘Blood‘ he smiled.
‘Attacks.’
He turned to me at his rolled chair.
‘Don’t you want to organize an attack and film it?’
‘A good idea, Lovren. Sounds crazy but wait a bit and it will make sense. People aren’t that far.’
‘Not yet.’
‘Not yet‘ I agreed.
‘So what then?’
‘Someone made those attacks.’
A questioning look.
I paused a bit and sat down on the table.
‘We need the enemy.’
























ALARIC

De rebelli:
You cannot but be cruel, violent, ruthless and maniacally brutal if you want to get rid of chains on your arms and legs. A moment of mercifulness to your enemy is a century of slavery to your children.

June, 6

Alaric rolled out the city plan with inscription “Plan b” in the top side of the schedule. Gaise, Theodo, Ulf and Riki were standing around the table.
‘If you ask,’ Alaric started. ‘Misdemeanors and arsons are a languish into extinction. A shallow booty in the shallow waters. From now on, we follow the line of a consistent revolution plan involving all known methods of a guerilla war. If they don’t want to treat us as equals we won’t act like equals. If they consider us “it” we will act like it would act – relentless, cruel and unexpected. No tolerance, no mercy for neither women, nor children, nor old men. To kill or to be killed. If you show mercy you end up in a noose.”
Alaric counted on full obedience and unquestioning following to his instructions. He was never getting tired mentioning that they were born in slavery. He was strategically building up a certain ideology in the heads of his family. He categorically denied the idea of tolerance conveying a message that every midget was neglected, harassed and abused by humans to a certain extent every day of their existence.
Humans, pronounced and mentioned with negative connotation, were the target.
‘Just demolition of buildings is nothing. We need demolish the whole institution. All of them above there are just crowds clueless how to act in unprecedented occasions. They would panic. That is why we need to target the ruling institution. We have to get them unruled. Now, look attentively here.’
He directed their views to the plan.
‘The city contains ten main districts positioned in four increasing rings. The first ring, a central one, is the smallest but the hardest to infiltrate into, the central point of the Law Enforcement. The investigation bureau, security, execution department, surveillance and so on. If you get caught they will bring you there to burn, to hang, no matter what else, then your body will be damped out somewhere with residuals for utilization.  The second ring. Here we target the district central enforcement unit. The third ring with four enforcement district centers. The second stage involves the channel. After the channel has been taken we transmit our will around the state. I hope you understand that at first we have to get a deliberate work done by planting explosives ahead of the day X.’
He looked up at Ulf.
‘What is about stocks?’
‘Enough for the whole city.’
‘Excellent. Gaise, Theodo,’ he addressed to them. ‘You take over the planting.’
‘The sewers?’ asked Gaise.
‘Sure! Riki is the channel. We need to have our man there.’
Riki nodded.
‘If I get caught Ulf takes over. The first stage involves one more object. The prison. Fortunately, we have our man there. A hard piece of work but we need it.’
They nodded without saying a thing. It was clear.
‘They will join us or they deserve their fate. I truly hope Vincent is still alive when we start. Unfortunately we can’t start immediately because we are not ready yet. Otherwise we end up catastrophically…then, no hope anymore.’
Ulf cut in.
‘They will get us all encaged.’
‘They will be coming and watching us as animals in the zoo. Death is better than being butt-stocks. You know, I prefer dying in a blast or from the bullet than being like that. No more slavery.’
‘Sure.’ They agreed to him.
‘The control point is right under the circus. Gaise?’
‘The manholes into the sewers are ready. We have been digging there for three months. Every day, no rest. A direct connection to the sewers means a direct connection to all the objects on the plan. Thus we need just go there and plant.’
‘Are they secured somehow?’ asked Riki.
‘Yeah, but sporadically. Humans tend to avoid rummaging through the shit underneath. Combined with the fact we are midgets…So, it wouldn’t be a mission impossible.’
‘The hordes are coming!’ stated Alaric. ‘They are coming from the underground, from the dirt. I am sure they are not ready for the cruelty expecting them soon. How much time do we need for planting bombs?’ he asked Gaise.
He looked at the planting points. Counted them. Counted people he had.
‘A couple of weeks provided I have more people.’
‘That is definitely what I wanted to hear. So, start in a week. I got a couple of questions to deal. Now,’ he looked around the guys. ‘We come back to work. Keep on working with your contacts. The state of affairs is that we can’t act autonomously. Then, if we manage to battle them down we;’ he made a pause. ‘Now, to work, guys.’
They all exchanged glances and followed each other into the door.
Alaric rolled the plan in and hid it into the floor right under the table.
He elaborated the plan but he had some turn in the mind. Some sign of cruel strength to transmit to humans.
The act of primal cruelty. That is how he would call it.
Stepping into the hall where they translate news from, he would explain the humans what this act really means. There is that beauty next to him. This one telling news on TV, this one who once said that the government discussed the status of midgets whether they should be taken for humans or subhumans. She is sitting next to him with a deep cleavage and another premium priced jewelry on her neck. She is telling about the revolution started, about blasts, about seizure then he takes her at her chin and back of the head and just bites her nose off.
The act of primal cruelty.
It is not just because of blood and cruelty. It is a demoralizing trick getting people panicked. They would get stoned in front of their TVs. Terrified. Only in hours they would recognize that nobody would be able to help them anymore because those who would are dead.
The smell of flesh in the air.
Besides, there is a cage with the bear inside. There is a camera broadcasting the scene. There is a captive pushed into the cage.
They all watch what the bear does further. No words needed.

















JACK

Theo’s Manifest stated:

The death verdict can be delivered by the referendum only. No one, regardless of a mandate, is given a holy right to deprave someone of their life.


June, 18

Every old man is supposed to have a wisdom to say. I am still far from being that old but I have got one I would tell my kids:
People tend to overrate.
Going deeper into details I would say:
People tend to overrate what isn’t that complicated
and they underrate what really ought not to be underrated.
Then I stop talking, think a bit and add:
So, you never really get what is going on.
I come back to the day when I firstly saw an execution. That guy was remanded for court martial. A war time. Passing by the scaffold during the days and weeks after I couldn’t avoid thinking and somehow seeing that convulsing body. His legs jerking from side to side searching for a solid ground to step on.
I wondered executioners: their moral, mental strength, determination and full absence of fear in the face of a “hanging” death.  I was sure I would never be able to stand it but I was overrating the task.
At the same time I even didn’t consider a different side of an execution. The side that isn’t supposed to be. To avoid it you just need to adhere to the instruction given. The point is that we used to underrate those thumbed instructions lost between the pages of thick books.
If I didn’t ignore that I wouldn’t have to deal with the other side. It is all the same old story - wrong rating. If you ask, we are too concentrated on wrong things.
What I mean is talking. Never let them talk. You will never escape the words talked cause they are in your head. With their words you receive their frustration, disappointment, desperation, pain and many other things coming in piles. You filter them through your head. Sooner or later any filter gets clogged. Especially if water is too contaminated. Conventionally, clogged filters are removed and utilized.
I had a trainee. Once we executed a person.
When he was staring at the sink in our WC with paled face and going to fill that sink with the breakfast he had eaten in the morning I just tried to give him moral support (honestly I didn’t want to see what he had eaten hours before):
‘Take it easy, you will get used to.’
After I had said that he would face a hundred more he vomited. I never saw him again. Maybe I shouldn’t have said what I unfortunately said. Hank used to tell me that from time to time I had better keep my mouth shut.
People tend to overrate.
What makes you vomit today won’t evoke any emotion tomorrow. A human being proved to be getting used to everything.


‘Jack! He is still alive!’ Danny cried.

‘You sure?’ I am not sure that Danny is sure.
‘I am sure, he is moaning!’

The manifest used to be our Bible. The book is still on every table.
The doc is an ancient creature with a standard package – a bit blind, a bit deaf, a bit sclerotic and fallen in sad recollections. The oldie needed a job to stay adrift. No one showed great enthusiasm to hire him. That was why I took him in my team. Life is praised being a boomerang. We all expect a kind of divine reward.
‘Don’t bother, Danny,’ I feel a bit sleepy. ‘Jerk the lever again.’
He pulled the lever. The man isn’t straining desperately anymore, but some life is obviously inside there. Another minute and he is done.
As for Danny, my assistance, he must be the only one of us who still cares. We all should nourish and cherish him. Me, doc and Winnie. If Danny was the same like us we would all face a grim scenario, but Danny keeps our team adrift. Coming from a family of government officers he has been grown up as a stronghold of the regime and state. In good sense, he never turned anyone in being just overwhelmed by the idea that everything must be done for the sake of regime’s stability. Why is he still bearing this burden with us here?
The doc came up to the dead man. Stethoscope. Hearing. Another minute.
‘I pronounce this man dead.’
I don’t remember him saying something else but “I pronounce this man dead”. It is quite clear that the man is dead - I mean the smell of a roasted flesh - but let the doc do his job. It is his personally revered predestination. Do you have one? Have you ever known what you are predestined for? I have never been but he grasped what he had been made up for when as a little chap he heard a doc proclaiming his deceased grandpa dead. Thus, let the oldie pronounce people dead.
‘This chair,’ Danny looked soured. ‘It is a technical failure. It happened again.’
He is worried.
‘Electrodes?’
‘Maybe transformer? Some failure makes them suffer infernally. It can’t go on like that anymore!’
It has been soldier #117 in my army of dead men. The worst thing is that I don’t know for sure whether he is #117 or #127. I should accept I deal with post-traumatic stress disorder. It happens when you are not born for killing people but you have to fulfil your fucking job.
You would say – well, give it up!
Sounds great, but…
I am a state executioner. Assigned by the State executional Chamber. By the magister himself. It is a fucking regime. To put it differently – either I execute or I am executed, cause if I reject to serve to the regime I am a dissident. Dissidents have the same doom – Execution. No matter who you are – execution is for everybody.
What do I know about the referendum? Once I heard our teacher reading the passage.
‘So, Danny, it looks like you are criticizing the state approved Madison Electric Chairs?’
Danny is a good chap but sometimes he is lacking of sense of humor.
‘Not!’ He whispered intensively. ‘Of course not! But it is obvious. You see. Technicians will confirm.’
‘I got it,’ Patting him on the shoulder. ‘It is no way to execute them like that. You are right. Let them inspect it.’
If you got empathy you are damned. Decent and righteous people have a common issue – themselves.
Danny looked unsure like doubting something.
‘You wanna say something?’
Sometimes, people have something hidden in the case.
‘I am not a whistler,’ he said. ‘I am not excited about talks behind one’s back, but…you see;”
I see. Proceeding that hard was everything else for him but an easy thing to deal.
‘You mean Winnie?’
He nodded.
‘You know what? I believe, it is great that we both are aware.’
‘Why? I mean execution is not quite properly done, will he whistle them?’
‘He will.’ 
‘And you are not worried?’
I am not. At first, I am as slippy as an eel and moreover I know that such things like another crap’s suffering wouldn’t cause serious anxiety by the executional authorities.
‘Not much. Obviously there are some transformers issues. I should have reported them. The worst I get another warning.’
Winnie is my problem. If the doc is my empathy and catharsis, Danny - my hope for the better then Winnie is my problem. This motherfucker used to be tirelessly reporting on me. He must be acting in full assurance that I am not aware. I am getting warnings but I know where it is leaking. That is why I have never been compromised. He is assigned to my team against my will. I can’t do a thing. He takes his god blessed role in the process.
Fuck it all!
As a chaplain he is not a fixed part of the team but assigned to my team to represent God’s forgiveness and prepare another one to eye the Lord who however doesn’t exist officially.
A dirty thing is done. The doc is free and can go home to have a rest. The man can rest in peace. Winnie left us for after-service procedures i.e. whistle on me. Danny is working on the chair thoroughly inspecting electrodes, transformer, unbuckling the leather straps and adding report notes as for necessity to inspect the chair. And me…
Deeply immersed in contemplation of my place and role in human mortification and recollections of my past. We will never be the same after another day behind.
I see a pathetic person with social issues, tired brown eyes, a week scrub covering the cheeks, chin and neck and with straw chaos on the head. My depressive creature is slowly fusing into greyish walls and blackish mold nesting in moist corners of a scarcely ventilated WC. Mold forms colonies expanding through walls and floors, growing everywhere and covering everything. It lives where a human lives. We are framed into mold covered walls of the regime. I am a smaller form of that. I am its product.
Resisting your nature you nurse the mold inside.
There is a certain confirmation approved by psychiatric committee and scientific board of authorities (or vice versa) and signed by  a row of important men that my job provides a serious mental impact on my fragile soul. According to that I got an extra charge for every execution and had some social privileges like medical and mental priority care and so on.   
An extra charge is a solid proof that my mental health is everything else but a thing worth of  care. When I got it for the first time I was very proud of myself as if the regime appreciates my mental prey. Times passed and things got clearer.
You never truly get what is going on.
Then I got I had better use all my poor privileges package. I mean substances supposed to keep you indifferent to human pleas, moans, spasms, strains and liquids. As for extra charges, I managed to put them to good use. I need some weaknesses to cure my suppressed creature. What then if not weaknesses can cure us! 
I heard some saying I am tough on those substances. Yeah, I look like but I would harness imagination and not make mountains out of molehills. I just have a poor sleep.
‘Herewith I deem it appropriate to submit electric chair #19890106 to complete technical inspection.’ Danny finished the report and took it into his document case. Now we can go home or somewhere else far away from scent of burnt flesh in the air.
I feel vibration in my pocket. It is my cell. Then I see the name on the display. It is a serious talk. Then Danny looks at me worried. It is another warning.
‘It is our chaplain report, Danny.’
‘I wrote everything, it should help,’ he looks enthusiastic.
I nodded.
“Herewith I deem it appropriate to submit state executioner Jack #..... to complete technical inspection.” It would make sense.
I put the cell back into the pocket and my fingers encountered a piece of paper. It suddenly struck me that it was the note I forgot to burn down.
I used to burn them right after reading. Another morning I find a piece of paper shoved under my door. Four months ago I found the first letter. Anonymous. They have been always anonymous. I unwrapped the paper I read:
WHO AND WHY SEND US ON THE CHAIR? WHO GOT THE RIGHT?
FACT: 10 DAYS BETWEEN ARREST AND EXECUTION. NO PLANS FOR COMING FORTNIGHT, PLEASE.
UNLESS SHOT IMMEDIATELY.
Having read the first time I didn’t figure out a reason why I should receive such letters. I read it once again. I couldn’t get what they meant and who they were. They got me perplexed because nothing told me that I was supposed to receive such letters. I just burned the letter.
In a week I found another letter.
REASONS? WORD, JOKE, WRONG GLANCE, WRONG STEP. ARE REASONS NECESSARY?
HOW MANY EXECUTIONERS EXECUTE? HOW MANY PEOPLE GET EXECUTED? EVERY DAY.
THEY COME, TAKE AND EXECUTE. THEN? NO BODIES, NO GRAVES. WE JUST DISAPPEAR.

Alarm bells started ringing. That time I was kind of scared. Not that a cold sweat broke out, I panicked and closed myself in the room with a knife in my hand but my heartbeat increased. Whoever they were they knew me, my address, my daily routine. They might be clocking me. Have you ever experienced something like that? I tell you. It is not their knowledge about your routine what scares – it is that you don’t see their intentions what really scares. I understood that the anonym was retrogressive and not quite satisfied with the regime. That was why I felt an apprehension that someone would stab me from behind the other day or I would open the door and a decent explosive would take my arms.
Besides, it could be another game played by the regime i.e. the security. Were they screwing me? If yes, I got problems cause I had burned down the first letter without reporting it. If no – it could be an act of kinda mental terror. At the same time, the security could proceed playing with me waiting for me to report. But something told me that the anonym was an outlaw.
Why? I just heard the other day about this way to recruit people. An effective method of persuasion. It so not a pretty complicated scheme taking into account that you are already exceedingly suppressed by the life you are forced to live. They tell you who are to blame and they skillfully sympathizing with you offering to become a part of a big family. The judgment day would come and the regime as it was would crash down under the pressure of the mass.  They are masters of their craftsmanship. Humans are guitars and these guys know to play a song.
They might be needing someone in the law enforcement. Such steps had a clear strategical explanation. Thus, I was getting the message. It was how I got a question – who else could receive such letters?
In a week I received another one:
HAVE YOU EVER BEEN TO LABOR CAMPS? NEVER? MAKE INQUIRIES.
DO YOU KNOW WHAT 1848 MEANS? NUMBER OF DAYS IN A CAMP.
DO YOU KNOW WHAT 17 MEANS? A SURVIVED PERCENT. 83% DIE IN CAMPS.
AND HOW MANY IS 1%?
I immediately burned this and washed ashes down in the drain. Where and when this propaganda would end up? What did they plan further?
Leaving home or the enforcement I looked around to detect someone but I never managed and clearly understood that it was impossible. However, I became strained. Those notes didn’t leave my head. Moreover, I couldn’t share my considerations with no one I knew. Quite a confidential case which could bring me right into a noose.
But the content!
I caught myself on the idea that I had never thought about such statistics as days between an arrest and an execution. Could it be really just ten days? Once you wake up and you don’t know that in ten days you can disappear from the earth.
They cancelled the referendum having frightened the nation. Aftershocks are rare but you can feel them communicating with old men who used to wake up pretty soon and fulfil their duties somewhere in the sewers, underground, streets. They work hard from day to day in expectance of death. They bear their cross with a decent patience till the evening comes. Another glass of whiskey and they lose control. I know it cause I have executed such men. It wasn’t a big deal for me to put up with the cancel. I have learned to put up with. Our generation has learned to put up with. However, ten days is a brutal thing.
Danny transported bodies into the morgue where those were cremated. No bodies, no graves, no place to farewell. People just evaporated. No one cared. It is not that we are careless. We just have to eat something, we have families and yes, we are careless but not born that. I got no one waiting for me to come home. What if I had?
One day I wouldn’t come back home. My children would ask  - where is dad? Where is dad? When does he come home? they will ask even then when I am already in the air. It scares. It frightens. It is smell of ominous despair.
Finally, we are taught that you’d better avoid questions about labor camps. A forbidden theme. All you should know is that if you get options - don’t think much and choose a chair. It is pretty fast cause a camp is a long way through hell. it is a murdering conveyer. If you managed to survive you might be a dead men walking.
Yesterday I got another letter:
THEY TOOK ME RIGHT ON MY WAY TO WORK. MY FAMILY WAITED FOR ME AT HOME. IN TWO YEARS MY DAUGHTER DIED. ALONE. I WAS IN THE CAMP. MY WIFE WAS INTERROGATED. TWO DAYS WITHOUT HELP. SHE SUFFERED MUCH. ARE YOU STILL ON THE RIGHT SIDE?
These guys know their craftsmanship. I would suppose that it is another story to impress. I am not that fool to get that someone is pulling strings playing a sorrow melody on my emotions. I wouldn’t believe a word there but I believe cause I know stories like that.
The other thing I know about the anonym. He (it can’t be she, I have never heard about a woman who managed to come through the camp)  is desperate and unbelievably rigorous man if he managed to get through that living hell. However, he is surely not alone. There are still seventeen percent.
With apprehensive thoughts I burn the letter and wash it down in the drain.





















MACABER

In a camp:
Be a mad to survive in madness or sanity is your bad friend in the reign of insanity.

One hundred days ago I firstly entered the barrack and was overwhelmed by primeval fear. The whole body trembled. I couldn’t say a word so fucking frightened I was. An endless corridor of utter despair paved along hundreds of wooden double-deck bunks. Hundreds of pairs of eyes directed on me. Eyeballs with bodies. There were no humans. Those who looked at me were everything else but humans. Extraterrestrial creatures somehow resembling humans. The officer said to the man at the entry to find a place for me. That was a man of two meters high but I could see partially all his bones. His stride was heavy and slow but resolute. He showed me my bunk. The men around weren’t that impressed like those at the entry. They hadn’t been there that long like those at the entry. They still had life in their eyes and some meat on their bones.
‘They want to eat you.’
My neighbor said to me when noticed them staring at me. I asked him what he meant saying like that. He said they would take a knife and stab me in the night. By the morning I would have been already eaten.
‘Bare bones. No meat, no guts, no lungs. They gather your bones in a bug and then make soup.’
He didn’t joke. No one jokes here.
I didn’t sleep the first night. I partially didn’t sleep the next night. I was tremendously frightened. I didn’t want to be eaten. Fear and suspicion permeated all aspects of my daily life during the first weeks here. You have no clue about paranoia. Every glance as a potential intention to devour me. The first weeks forged me mentally. They taught me to deal with the most tremendous fear of all you know. It is not about phobias. It is not a monster under the bed. it is not a stage fright. It is fucking bestial horror in the air saturated with decaying breathe of dehumanized cannibals.
I learned to sleep with an eye opened.
Now I am watching a newcomer walking along the corridor. So much flesh on his bones. Some people say eyes are nor readable. Look into newcomer’s eyes. It is a blind fear. A poor soul is about to know that he is already planned for a night meal. His muscles are bigger than ours. He is full of vitality. Not that he provides more power what matters. It is that he provides more warmth when burning what matters. It is about his fat. Everyone here is stronger than him cause there is a despair in our veins.
Today is my hundredth day. I am a fucking fledgling. I still hope. I still count days. To the right from me there is a man sitting on his bunk. Four years ago he stopped counting days. They say he is about to leave that place. They say he is an exception. People here don’t live more than three years. Someone manage four. Someone throw themselves on high voltage lines. Even for that you need an opportunity. But someone manage to leave this place through the gates on their own feet.
They say you aren’t dead if hope to escape.





























IACOBUS

June, 17

Iacobus and Davy aren’t going to stop in their determination to drive the demon out. If Iacobus has doubts about the nature of a demon he got to grapple with, then Davy, being dead straight honest, is rather hesitating and not fully aware of what is going on. His problem is that he hasn’t got in him to contradict Iacobus wielding untethered authority over him. Mentally. Physically. Financially. Davy is a sort of man who does everything what is said never having an idea what to do next. Moreover, Davy could barely live from his decent payment a month and Iacobus, subsidized by a dying church, needed an assistance. It was an opportunity for both. Iacobus rented Davy a room for nothing and taking advantage of his mental power over Davy involved him in his experiments he used to call “exorcisms”.
‘Are you sure he is ok?’ stumblingly said Davy
Iacobus has no doubt that the poor fella in front of them is not ok.
‘Of course not, Davy! Does he look ok?’
‘Not absolutely?’
‘Not absolutely?! He is fucking dying, man.’
‘That is why I am asking. Maybe we need a doc?’
‘Davy,’ Iacobus sounded irritated. ‘Stop it, please! It is a fucking devil inside and I am going to drive it out.’
The poor fellow has neither tears nor energy anymore to cry. He has been imploring quarter already for hours, begging to let him go back into hospital where he is supposed to take pills every four hours. His lips are shivering, eyes are red from crying, tears on his cheeks, one of the lips got a crack and is bleeding because Iacobus hit him a couple of times.
‘Please,’ moaning.
Davy is worried as usual. He would prefer living from hand to mouth to getting jailed for such a dubious thing they are doing here. The only thing that lets him proceed is that Iacobus is partially always managing to exorcise a devil. Anyway, he says so.
Iacubus is foraging among papers searching for a certain psalm he considered suitable for the case.
‘What are you doing?’ Davy seems to be putting himself together and calming down.
‘Don’t you think that problem is that we use a false spell?’ Still searching among the papers.
‘A false?’
Iacubus is fully immersed in searching and ignores Davy’s answer.
‘I am begging you! Please!’ the fellow don’t stop moaning.
This moaning is fueling Davy’s worrying. He is staying there changing glances from Iacubus to the fella without any idea what to do. He comes nearer to the fella.
‘Maybe, you want a bit water?’
The guy must have felt a beam of sympathy or a nebulous sign of hope and starts nodding.
‘Yes, please, you are so kind.’
‘Davy!’ Iacubus shouted. ‘No water! Don’t you understand, that it is not the guy who wants water?’
‘Then who?’
‘Oh, Davy!’ Iacubus is upset. ‘Stop being so na;ve! It is a demon who needs water, because it feels that I am so close!’
The guy starts crying again. The last hope has been nipped in the bud.
‘Yes!’ Suddenly shouted Iacubus. ‘Yes! Davy! Found!’
‘Great! A right one?’
‘Hope so’
‘The guy seems to be in bad condition. I am not sure he has enough vitality.’
Iacubus takes the paper and comes nearer up to the guy. Then he starts.
‘Regna terrae, cantate deo, psallite Domino qui v;hitur per calus, caelos ant;quos! Ecce, edit vocem suam, vocem potentem: Akinoscite potentiam dei!’
He looks at the guy. This one shows no reaction.
Iacubus continues.
‘Majestas ejus, Et potentia ejus In nubibus.Timendus est dues e sancto suo, Dues Israel: ipse potentiam Datet robur populo suo Benedictus dues. Gloria Patri.’
Again look at the guy.
‘I won’t say a word to anyone. I am begging you, please!’
Iacubus comes back to the table and puts the paper on it. He is getting angry.
‘Fuck!’ Hit with a hand against the table.
‘What is wrong? A wrong psalm?’
‘Yeah, Davy, a wrong one!‘
Suddenly he jumps back to the guy.
‘Who are you? Who are you, you dick?! Show yourself!’
‘I am not possessed, man’ The guy moaned again. ‘I am ok, I am a human, I love God! I love you all! I love crucifix! Please!!!’
‘Maybe, he is really ok or you have already exorcised the demon out of him? Just so, unnoticed?’
‘Davy,’ calm and quiet, looking in the guy’s eyes. ‘The case is more complicated than I have thought. How many demons do you know?’ he turns to Davy.
Davy is taken aback by the answer.
‘No one.’
Iacubus comes back to the table and starts foraging among the papers again.
‘Look, you have to know, it is crucial. Some say they differ on sins, for example, Mammon is greed, Belphegor is sloth, Asmodeus is lust and so on. Besides, there are so called Parcae who distorts your fate, Incubus is a demon who engages in sexual activity, Python who heads spirits of all the liars, Abaddon, something connected with the realm of the dead and, of course, Astaroth , the Great Duke of Hell, this one is mentioned in the same row as  Beelzebub and Lucifer, he is one of the evil trinity. They all are just a small particle in the world of demons.’
Davy and the guy were hypnotized by this story. Iacubus provided a massive impact on both of them, because no one of the both has ever though that it can be really so complicated. However, the same impact has different aftertastes for both of them.
Davy is overwhelmed by Iacubus’ deep knowledge of  demonology and from now on reveres him more than before. As for the guy, he is completely suppressed by the idea, that this one is more than just a psycho. He looked down on his toes, not because he is that worried about them, but he just let his glance fall down and it fell directly on his toes.
Is all hope gone? Vanished? Don’t stop begging for mercy.
‘This one!’ shouted Iacubus.
He takes the paper and comes back to the guy.
‘Look into my eyes!’
The guy obeyed.
‘Exorcizamus te, omnis immundus spiritus, omnis satanica potestas, omnis incursio infernalis adversarii, omnis legio, omnis congregatio et secta diabolica, in nomine et virtute Domini Nostri Jesu Christi!’
Pause. No reaction detected. He continues.
‘eradicare et effugare a Dei Ecclesia, ab animabus ad imaginem Dei conditis ac pretioso divini Agni sanguine redemptis . Non ultra audeas, serpens callidissime, decipere humanum genus, Dei Ecclesiam persequi, ac Dei electos excutere et cribrare sicut triticum.’
Again pause. Wait for a while.
‘Davy, have you seen something?’
‘Nothing.’
Iacubus made a grimace.
‘Imperat tibi Deus altissimus , cui in magna tua superbia te similem haberi adhuc praesumis; qui omnes homines vult salvos fieri et ad agnitionem veritaris venire. Imperat tibi Deus Pater imperat tibi Deus Filius; imperat tibi Deus Spiritus Sanctus!’
The last words he shouted as loud as he could.
He stopped to recover breath. Davy has been frightened and stepped back into the farthest corner of the room.
Suddenly, the guy shouted:
‘I am free! I am free! It left me!’
He started breathing intensively and continued shouting.
‘I am free! You have set me free from that! I am free!’
Weight off Davy’s mind. His grimy face cleared out. A thought that Iacubus managed flashed thru his mind.
‘You got it, Iacubus!’
No trace of joy on Iacubus’ face. He turns to Davy shaking his head.
‘Don’t swallow that bait, Davy,’ He said quietly. ‘It is a trap.’
‘What?’ exclaimed Davy.
‘Look, Davy. Demons don’t have human voice. The fact, that he is shouting “I am free” means that the demon makes him talk that, it is trying to mislead us. It is a fucking trap. But that is a good news for all of us.’
‘Why?’
‘It means that I am on the right track.’

He is looking right in the guy’s eyes while talking that. He is calm. Cold blooded. Like a hunter who has just detected a prey and now getting the position to develop his decisive attack. He sounded so horrendous that the guy who thought that found a way out of this demonical situation now grasped that it has been the greatest mistake he has ever made.
Iacubus takes the paper and continues.
‘Imperat tibi majestas Christi, aeternum Dei Verbum, caro factum, qui pro salute generis nostri tua invidia perditi, humiliavit semetipsum facfus hobediens usque ad mortem; qui Ecclesiam suam aedificavit supra firmam petram, et portas inferi adversus eam nunquam esse praevalituras edixit, cum ea ipse permansurus omnibus diebus usque ad consummationem saeculi. Imperat tibi sacramentum Crucis , omniumque christianae fidei Mysteriorum virtus.’
He shouted these words in a tremendously aggressive and demonical way.  Davy has never been so frightened as now. Quite apart from the guy. That day became the doom’s day for him. Now he is ready for everything to save his soul. It flashed thru his head that he is ready to gnaw his wrists thru to be able to flee from here.
Finally, Iacubus said the last word of the spell.
‘Iacubus,’began Davy. ‘What has you pronounced just now? It sounded so eerily. What is meaning?’
Iacubus doesn’t pronounce a word. Silence.
Then he turns to Davy.
‘I have no idea, Davy. It is just a spell. They read it to exorcise a demon.’
‘May I ask a question?’ said the guy.
The both looked at the guy.
‘Talk,’ apprehensively said Iacubus.
‘Are you sure that you have been pronouncing these Latin words in a way they should be?’
Davy changed his glance to Iacubus.
‘Maybe. Some of these words…’
‘Fucking Maybe?!’ the guy cut him short.
Davy and Iacubus looked at each other.
‘Maybe?!’ the guy repeated.
He was so desperate.
‘You both are fucking possessed psychos! Bastards! Fucking dicks! Ill minded assholes!’
The both are taken aback by such a twist.
‘You both!’ he continued shouting out. ‘You both! You immediately set me free otherwise I will let you both rot in the most horrible jail in this fucking world! Do it, you dicks! Immediately!’
Davy got palled. On the edge of mental crush. Absolutely panicked.
‘Iacubus, I beg you, let him go. It is going too far! Please!’
The guy and Davy are staring at Iacubus.
‘I got some news, Davy,’ He said in cold blood. ‘First one is good. I have just wounded the demon. But the second is a bad one. ‘
Davy’s heart is about to burst out of the chest. The same like the guy’s.
‘A very bad one,’ Repeated Iacubus. ‘There is no spell to drive that monster out of this poor soul.’
The guy couldn’t wait anymore.
‘I fucking kill you, you bastard! Hey, you, chap’ he addressed Davy. ‘Set me free, I wont do a thing to you, you have nothing to do with that psycho, I will not report on you, you will just go. He made you. But now, please, set me free, good boy!’
Davy stoned on his place. He was completely paralyzed.
‘Don’t listen to him, my Davy. You see, he is just misleading you. It is a trap,’ Iacubus is numb. ‘Don’t worry, my friend. I know what to do.’
Iacubus goes in the other farthest corner of the room (not that one where Davy stepped back to when frightened by Iacubus’ shouting). Davy and the man are following his every step, his every movement.
Iacubus turns around with a rifle in his hand.
Davy swallowed in the greatest dread he has ever felt.
He just uttered – Iacubus.
Ia-cu-bus.
Iacubus pointed a rifle right between the guy’s eyes.
That one rounded his eyes. His last hope is dying. His last attempt to reach out Iacubus’ mind.
‘You are making…’
‘Shut up!’ Iacubus cut him rigidly short. ‘You are done! Fuck off into hell!’
He pulled the trigger.
Before Davy swallowed and collapsed down he had said:
‘ We are not able to define between the good and the evil. That is why we don’t kill.’
Between two bodies – the fainted and dead – Iacubus whispered:
‘Davy, the manifest is dead.’










INTERROGATION

‘I find it appropriate to confess that I began as an interrogator. There were emergencies when I had to put on a role of a negotiator. I have been a lot of things and after all these years I sincerely believe I have succeeded in all of them. It is a matter of self-discipline. You see, I am seventy two but still able to kick someone’s ass. I am regularly making pull ups.’
He looked at the secretary typewriting his words.
‘You know what I am really excited about? This interrogation atmosphere. It is unique. It is exceptional. I enjoyed my every interrogation. I did it properly. I happened to work with a great number of really clever people. They were excellent strategists, political experts, social analysts and phenomenal chess players. However, no one of them could make an excellent interrogator. It is always about mind games. They say, for that you need a special acumen, intuition and yes you are supposed to be the expert on human souls.  A subtle psychologist. Impassion or emotionality? Bulling or sympathy? Threats or deals? Apart from all of that you have to be meticulous. Accuracy is to be neglected the last.’
He fixed his glance on the secretary.
‘Some say, an interrogator is born. Others mean, they are made. You know this clich; “born” and “made”. I hate clich;s. A clich;d thinking reflects a sad truth - your brain cells got paralyzed.’
General stopped talking and tilted his head back as if letting his lower neck work. Then he got it back right. A sparkle in his eyes. That joker-like complacency veiled his face.
‘As a child I enjoyed labyrinth riddles. I'd ace every labyrinth without racking brains a lot over them. I knew the key. You solve it from the end. We used to think directly. From the beginning gradually following to the end. So many dead ends, mistakes and misleading ideas bringing you nowhere. Why not just look at the end. At the only right way leading to the exit. As a matter of fact, you need just to do the opposite. You beat up a wrong and unfair way but it turns out to be the only right way. Such a simple logic isn’t going to be accepted. A crowd is the point. So, do you know what makes ants so strong? A collective thinking. They act like a single organism. Do you know what makes them vulnerable? A collective thinking. They act like a single organism. If the first ant goes right to the edge and then makes another step into the abyss the others will blindly follow him into there. No one of them questions. They just do. It is a crowd. It makes us strong and it makes us vulnerable. A collective common thinking makes us follow from the beginning to the end. It is rational, sure, but it is a wrong essence in it. Too many dead ends, my friends.’
He grinned.
‘Let’s be honest, my friend. All these qualities making a good interrogator I have enumerated matter. To be an excellent one, a master of the art, you have to be insidious, traitorous and manipulative. Nothing is sacred. You got to be a psychopath with a thousand faces. I hope, you know that psychopath isn’t that one running around with a knife in his hand. That one that makes you trust him in a noble way. He makes you believe you are the holy grail but in fact he is putting a noose around your neck.’

JACK

There is a scripture from the Manifest hanging on the wall over Hank’s chair:
Punishment is not a privilege. Punishment is a responsibility.

June, 18

Hank and Alex have been waiting for me in Hank’s office. As a matter of fact, Alex hasn’t been waiting for me. He made another report. He gathered stats, data, analyzed them and composed a report revealing department’s weak points, tendencies and so on. Then he expressed his detailed, argumentative and relevant opinion on them. A mathematical background explained his love and attention to numbers and absolute blindness to everything else. They say as a child he reported on his daddy who was somebody high up in the law enforcement. Since daddy couldn’t just kill his twisted offshoot he sagaciously decided to keep Alex as far as possible from himself. 
‘As usual you are on time,’ Alex’ acrid remark.
‘Hi, Alex, glad to see you here. Reporting on mom?’
‘You don’t change,’ Alex is full of contempt.
‘Stop it!’ Hank cut us short. ‘Jack, we are discussing the figures here.’
‘Figures?’
‘I was telling you, Hank. This man never cares about what is happening,’ said Alex. ‘Over these past few months, if it hadn't been for you, Jack, we would have had better results. Hank,’ He continued. ‘Partially everyone is decreasing—‘
‘Except of you, sure,’ I remarked.
‘And Freddy. May I continue without your remarks?’
I said nothing.
‘Thank you, Jack!’ He is so disgusting, fuck. ‘Hank, we are decreasing. Partially everyone failed to comply with the figures planned. It is ok, I don’t want to criticize personal, we are not machines and people work hard but Jack. First of all, over last three months Jack executed 13 men instead of 25 planned. A year ago it was ok, but today we are supposed to execute more people. It is the plan approved by the board of authorities.’
‘How many have you killed?’ I asked him.
‘30’ Proud was heard.
‘You must be the best?’
‘Yes, Freddy carried out 25 executions. As planned.’
‘Jack, let him speak, please!’ Said Hank
Alex is looking so contemptuous at me as if I have been molesting children in a kindergarten instead of repairing their toys.
‘The point is, Hank, that Jack’s executions are reported to be carried out not in a proper way. I mean, it is reported Jack is not controlling the execution what leads to certain incidents. Sooner or later, we end up paying the high price for his negligence.’
Alex is a senior executioner. Factually I don’t report to him. That is why I can ignore him and tell him everything I want to tell. He is nutty maniac eager to kill people every day. SS-squads would have learned much from him. He would dismember his mom if she said a bad word about the regime. He is a kind of a quality manager controlling and elaborating ways to increase efficiency. Apart from me he can say how many people I have executed.
Hank raised the hand to stop Alex.
‘Thank you. I will discuss it with Jack. Now, any solution to meet the plan?’
Alex started nodding intensively.
‘Yes, of course. As for me, we must up the bar up to 12 executions per month to improve the figures for annual report. The authorities will see that we have managed the problems and even are ahead of schedule. It means additional charges.’
‘Nutty maniac,’ I said.
A more contemptuous glance at me.
‘Thus, we should spend less time for one person. We get a court sentence and just execute.’
‘Ok, Alex’ Hank said. ‘What if we don’t have enough people to execute to meet the schedule?’
‘I have foreseen you question!’ He replied joyfully and enthusiastically. ‘We write a proposal to the magister. That is the way to force issuing more death sentences. It won’t be easy to carry out twelve executions in a month but somehow we have to. If people have to they manage. We can’t raise our efficiency by means of excuses and complains.’
‘Weren’t you subjected to some psychiatric experiments?’ I couldn't take it anymore.
Alex demonstratively ignored me.
‘The authorities have always supported such ideas. These measures would exceedingly reduce expenditures for prisoners and prisons in general.’
Hank nodded in approval.
‘Ok, prepare a special report, describe everything in details with all your ideas and I will discuss it with the magister next week.’
‘Thanks, Hank!’ Alex exclaimed. ‘I have already prepared a detailed report!’
He put a weighty report on Hank’s table.
‘Oh, fuck!’ I said. ‘ I like hear alarm bells ringing.’
Alex contemptuously ignored me.
‘What would I do without you, Alex!’ Hank praised him. ‘Thank you! I will show it to the magister. I am sure he will approve your idea.’
‘Thanks, Hank!’
‘Alex,’ I couldn’t help. ‘If we had a machine gun we would kill tens a day, don’t you think it is a good idea?’
They both looked at me.
‘Jack,’ Hank said. ‘ Don’t you think it is a good idea if you just shut your mouth up?’
I pressed lips and submissively nodded.
‘Ok, Alex, now I have to discuss something with Jack. Would you be so kind—‘
Alex didn’t let Hank end his sentence.
‘I understand, Hank! I immediately get back to my duties. Thank you again!’
He stood up, shook Hank’s hand and hurried away from the office.
Hank turned around on his chair to the window. And then suddenly silence again.
‘He is a fucking maniac. Sooner or later he strings us both up.’
Hank is still keeping silent. A minute pause. Then:
‘Have you ever been to the Magister’s office?’ Hank asked me.
‘Why do you ask if you know?’
Dealing with certain people every day for a quite long span of time you learn to understand them without much said. They just speak strange things and ask seemingly strange questions but you manage to read between the lines and then you start playing a fool as if you don’t catch the idea.
‘His office, Jack, it is four times more than mine. An ebony table weighs like a small truck. Saturn Devouring His Son is on the wall. On the red wall. You know, he likes red. Red walls and an ebony table.
‘You mean, you want your walls red?’
Before I have said that he was quiet and impassive.
‘You can keep your remarks to yourself in the future!’
He broke out but I am staying cool and unimpressed.
‘Please! Why should I have a headache every time after our conversations?’
It is a rhetoric question. It would be much better for me to keep my mouth shut. I know, he would calm down as usual unless I would say something as usual.
‘You are roaring much, Hank.’
‘Keep your dirty mouth shut! The magister is not your fan. He is not my fan as well. Do you have ideas why we both are still here?’
A pause for him to watch whether I can keep my mouth shut.
‘Because people are not eager to execute other people. It is work for maniacs and schizos. For that we are paid. Paid not bad, I should say. But we are not paid for roasting people alive!’
‘Danny reported a technical failure. Something is wrong with the chair.’
‘Something is wrong with you! You have heard him now. They want more deaths. We have to execute more people because we are lagging behind. It is enough to make me sick and then…then you with your negligence. Alex and the board don’t stop fucking my brains out. They never stop! And you keep nourishing them.’
Have nothing to say. Wrong. Wrong is all. 
‘If I only could act without that prick Winnie.’
‘No, you will work with that prick Winnie cause it is not Winnie why you are here and why I am fucking regularly enjoying that fucking Saturn.’
‘Then I need another chair.’
‘No! no! and no! you are not properly checking it before the execution, that is why—‘
‘It is a transformer, read Danny’s report.’
‘Ok, they change your transformer, but they will up the limits. You have to execute more. Those people must die every two days otherwise our positions…we…you got! And please, be careful. That Winnie says everything he sees. Check the chair and kill them all every two days.’
Hank is my boss. He got a dozen of executioners, their assistances, docs and chaplains. Besides, he got two big problems – the chaplains and me. They say, once he lost his temper. He felt being picked on by a chaplain and barely drove at him with his fists. Me? If a chaplain claims i.e. Winnie claims, he claims me. I would electrocute him but then I need another chaplain to say a sermon. A new chaplain is a new challenge.
‘Is it all so bad, Hank?’
He nodded. What the use of asking such things if you got no idea what to say if it is needed.
‘I am fed up. This television. They want executions online. Those fucking ratings. Do you know how much people watched that hanging?’
‘Of course not.’
‘Me too, but they say it was quite many.’
Hank’s main problem is that he cares. Danny cares, Hank cares. They both suffer. If Danny cares cause he is ambitious then Hank cares cause of three kids. Thus, he never takes easy such moral things.
‘You see. She switches on that channel and what is there? Yeah, Jack, hanging. She is just seven and she is watching that.’
‘Take it for granted, you can do nothing.’
I am not that cynical but I heard so many people complaining a dirty way we live. That talking rings hollow to me. There is too much benefits for the regime stuck in that. That is why you change nothing and let it be as it is. Just get on well with that.
‘Easy to say. I have already swallowed skinning and dismembering unless my kids aren’t familiar with that.’
‘Easy, Hank. They will. If not today, then tomorrow and you can’t do a thing.’
Silence. It is not agreeing. It is accepting. Admitting. Tolerating. Swallowing. It will be swallowed because it needs swallowing. And we don’t care till our nearest and dearest have to swallow. That is why if you want a dissident to talk don’t waste your time for stabbing him with a knife. They also have nearest and dearest. They will talk.
Hank accepted. Not now. Much earlier but that is like phantom pain.
‘First,’ He woke up. ‘A new execution.’
He lets a dossier slide to me across the table.
‘Iacubus?’, I read aloud. ‘Is it a daemon?’.
‘Another schizo. You know. They are like increasing.’
‘Murder?’
‘Claiming he got memory lapses or something like that. Telling strange things about armies of daemons, salvation and so on. Briefly, nothing to point out.’
I looked at the photo and first page. No wish to go deeper now.
‘You said “first”’.
He nodded.
‘Then. You are a lucky one. You have go to school and tell students something good about your job.’
‘Something good? What is that?’
‘Jack, I don’t really care whether you want or not. You just go there and tell them a fairy tale about how it is wonderful to be a state worker.’
‘Why not Alex, it is a perfect soldier.’
A passively aggressive glance burning me through.
‘One. He is working on the reports. No idea about those reports, maybe reports on reports, but he is very busy. Two. Children need a story. Not a statistical report. You are the best in storytelling. And three. I don’t fucking care whether you want or not. Got it?’
He is reading my face language.
‘I got it, I will tell them.’
‘It is occupational guidance. It is a state program. Get the address at the secretary and please, I don’t like that damned Saturn.’
‘Hank, tell me, what would you say to your children?’
‘You got what I mean.’
He is acting emotional.
‘Before you go there take your charge. Take a day off and whiskey. I approve.’
‘You approve? Really? I don’t know how to;’
‘Fuck off!’
I don’t remember a day when we had a long conversation. It has been always so seemingly hard but if I had been really so bad I wouldn’t have executed more than hundred men. The chaplains? They are a common problem. Hank had been executing people before he was jailed into that office. That is why I don’t need to go deep in details to clear out why those transformers are so bad and all the chaplains are that faggots.
I have a clear plan. I get an address. I get a charge. I get to school and then I get to realize the charge.
Mary. The secretary. We are good friends but sometimes she forgets about it. Somehow it comes back to one story with her husband. A good chap but she never greeted the idea we have the same passion.
‘Hi, Mary,’ I smile every time greeting her. ‘How are you doing?
Her poker face. A bit stone as if she is not that glad to see me.
‘Your address.’
‘Thanks, Mary!’
I have taken the paper and barely left the room but I couldn’t help but…
‘You look worried, dear, what is about the significant other?’
‘Don’t even think about that, you moron!’
‘Wow, wow, Mary, just a question’
A masque of extreme contempt on her face is expressing more than words ever said.
Her husband is a reckless gambler and his problem is…though our common problem is that I sometimes make a couple of bets. Actually, the problem is that I am not a foreseer but look like a solid better. What is not the case.
‘Miss Delafou will meet you in the hall. So be so kind to come there on time.’
‘Thanks, Mary.’ I said carefully trying not to disturb her much and finally left the room.
In a couple of minutes a holly charge came. I just stepped over the threshold of the headquarter. Into fresh air. Away from dusty rooms crowded with passive murders. The deathmen citadel as we secretly name it.
The deathmen citadel.
Once the moratorium banned all the executions as we know them today – formally capital punishment. Then came the regime. From time to time I try to imagine what my life would have been if a death punishment had been frozen up to the present day.
I am looking at address of the school I am to visit now and it comes to my mind that maybe I would have been such a schoolboy who would need such a lecture – an occupational guidance.
I am a schoolboy looking forward to promising future and suddenly a state executioner comes in.

Over the blackboard. Written in gothic style.
Prejudiced thinking is an untreatable disease.

Miss Delafou met me in the hall.
I was seven when I fell in love for the first time. She was a teacher. It was the purest love ever. A human being is incapable of such a pure love but I felt it.  She was so kind, so friendly to me as no one. If I only could feel this again but…
When I turned twelve I wasn’t that pure anymore. I learned to appreciate curves.
Miss Delafou evoked recollections of my first love. Moreover she got curves as well. I followed her. I watched her. Not her curves. Honestly. A seven year boy’s recollections dominate. It is a moment of weakness.
She is leading me to the classroom where I am supposed to discover a terra incognita for teens who are still in search for a clear and prosperous future. A quite strange viewpoint, isn’t? I have missed something if haven’t still got that an executioner is a part of something bright and promising.
‘Mister;’ She looked at me.
‘Just call me Jack, guys.’
‘Ok, lets greet our guest!’
‘Hi, Jack!’ They said all together.
‘Hi, kids.’ I answered enthusiastically.
‘Thus,’ She continued introducing our meeting. ‘Mister Jack has come to tell us about his profession. As you remember, every week we are going to meet people from different spheres and learn a lot of new. You know, my friends, as a teen I never believed that I would become a teacher. I thought, oh, teacher, no, please, such a tedious thing. Now I am sure I have chosen a right track. I mean you may choose everything you want and you might enjoy something that you never thought could be attractive. Please, remember that and carefully listen to our guest.’
She stepped aside.
‘Jack, what are going to tell us about?’
I feel a bit confused about her optimism. I am lingering. Why? I am fed up with my job, with myself and of course with all these future generations tirelessly yakking about their selves as if they will change something.
‘In such a way,  kids,’ I began. ‘I see you are not kids anymore, aren’t you?’
They don’t say a word. Some are nodding, some are just staring at me, but in general I see they agree with me.
‘Yeah, Jack, you are right, no kids anymore,’ Someone said.
‘It is really good, fellas, that I am not speaking to little kids because I am gonna tell you about quite serious things. ‘
‘As serious as our bus driver?’ They started laughing aloud.
‘Quiet please!’ Said Miss Delafou.
But they didn’t. I got, that a doesn’t work here.
They are still laughing. That is ok, I don’t care much.
‘No, it is not about bus driving, it is about executing people.’
Some of them stopped laughing. Those who didn’t have probably misheard.
‘Consequently, my adult friends, I am gonna tell you some facts about killing people. If you want, can add some information about torturing. Should I?’
Have you ever experienced dark tranquility? Miss Delafou got palled much more than kids. I didn’t pause much longer.
‘Thus, fellas. As far as I see, we will frame us just with execution. There is much to tell but unfortunately I don’t have enough time, that is why, I will tell just some facts. Just for you to understand what I am doing every day. If you have question you ask, I answer. Crystal?’
Some nodded. Some are still shocked. Seemingly.
‘First of all. Someone murders someone else. Such a usual thing happens from time to time. The police gets them jailed. Nothing really thrilling. Then the court sentences this someone to death. Thus our someone has to accept that their days are counted. That is my cue. I come to their prison suit where we are having fun talking.’
‘What are you talking about?’ Asked one of the listeners.
‘They all have last wills. It is official stuff. As for me, I take it for necessary to let them talk. Not just last will. Everyone has that need to talk.’
‘For example.’
I give no example.
‘Sorry, fella, that is what you don’t want to hear.’
They all look worried. Some of them seem to be frightened.
‘Then I preliminary define the method of execution.’
‘Hanging?’ The guy looks as if he is not the one to get shocked.
‘Yeah, hanging, but I prefer electrocuting,’ I step nearer to him. ‘But my boss might order something different. This one can shock you, fella. So, I could behead you, skin, dismember, I can prepare an acid bath for you. It sounds awful, man, right?’
He nodded.
‘Feel not quite yourself?’
He nodded again.
‘That is, fella, what I mean when I speak about serious things.’
I got back to the magnetic board.
‘However, my little friends, I won’t worry your immature minds with those dark details.’
Miss Delafou looks so bad that I have no other choice but avoid those moments.
‘Thus, I will tell you only about an electric chair. In my opinion, it is the best choice to spare you all from nightmares and unhealthy thoughts. So, ah, questions at first?’
In front of me there is a group of shocked teens. I already see some of them crying in mom’s arms claiming insomnia, nightmares, dread, death and creepy creatures looking at them through the window in the middle of the night.
‘So! The electric chair works by sending electricity thru the person's body by means of electrodes attached to the top of the head. It is a definition. Sort of. There is one more electrode attached to a leg. According to standards the electric chair delivers 6 amps of electricity, what sounds not much but be sure it is more than enough.’
‘Are they crying?’
‘Straining. Then moaning. Then straining again but not so intensive. The point is that electricity impacts your heart and brain the most. That is why the person’s death is caused by cardiac arrest or by paralysis of the brain part that controls respiration. You can’t breath and your heart stops pumping blood. You know, your heart doesn’t need much current. It is a small battery that theoretically can kill you. God bless your skin that keeps you alive in that dangerous world.’
‘Is that quick?’
‘It depends?’
‘Depends?’
‘Why your little sister catches the flu and you don’t?’
‘They say it is immune system.’
‘Something like that, but the thing is we are all different. One dies quick, another needs a couple of strokes, but there are rear cases who need more than a couple. What can I add? Not much. They just are not lucky ones. Do you know, why they get a masque put on their faces?’
Deafening silence.
‘Electricity sent thru your body can cause your body to swell so much that the eyeballs pop out of the head. It means that your eyeballs just melt like snow and…you don’t want to see it.’
Deep sighs around the classroom. The teacher must be damning the school director who asked for such a lesson. As for me? I am no more to stop. All in, as I used to do.
‘But that is not an only gift that expects you. Your skin can completely burn off. You are heated so much that coroners cannot carry out autopsy till the body cools down. The body is so hot right after the procedure that it might blister anyone who touches it.’
The students are exchanging stunned glances. Some of them are whispering between each other, some are just staring at me with grimaces on their faces.
‘Electricity, fellas. Of course, electrocuting people you should take into account that they can involuntarily urinate, defecate, and vomit blood. It all happens suddenly. It is all uncontrolled and with that all you have to deal somehow. ‘
‘Miss Delafou, I feel sick.’ Mumbled one of the girls looking as if she has too bright imagination.
The teacher jumped up from the chair and hurried up to the girl.
‘How are you, Annie? Are you so bad?’
‘Not much,’ She said. ‘But it feels really uncomfortable in my stomach.’
‘Ok, Annie, let’s go to the doctor.’
The girl nodded.
Miss Delafou turned to me.
‘Mister Jack, it would be better to come to conclusion of your informative description.’
She tries to be tactful. Understandable. She seems to about to fall unconscious. A bit palled.
‘Ok, Miss,’ I said to her and immediately addressed the kids. ‘I see, my little fellas, you are impressed by my story a little. Thus, we would better end up here and ponder on our promising future. No idea what I am supposed to say in conclusion, but…I would recommend you to keep yourself as far as possible from getting in my chair.’
‘Oh, Mister Jack,’ Groaned the teacher, probably perplexed by my conclusion. ‘We are very grateful to you for such a stunning presentation!’
Acting slightly artificial but I don’t feel offended somehow. They all just expected something else.
‘Let us applaud our guest!’
I would say my little friend gave me a huge round of applause but they tried. I smiled and before I have left the classroom I said:
‘See you, fellas!’
‘I got a question, mister Jack’ A student asked me.
‘Full attention.’
He pointed to the manifest laying in front of him.
‘The manifests says that a person can’t be executed without the referendum.’
I looked at Miss Delafou as if forwarding the question to her.
‘A good question, my friend.’ I said. ‘First of all, the manifest had been written long before the moratorium and referendum were abolished. And the second I wouldn’t recommend;’
I wanted to give him a piece of advice to never question the regime but you’d better avoid such recommendations.
Miss Delafou  got my intention.
‘Wouldn’t recommend what?’
‘Oh;’ she was about to say something but didn’t know precisely what she wanted to say. So, I helped.
‘You see, my friend, it is a matter of our history and some law amendments. You’d better read them.’
In the hall Miss Delafou caught me up.
‘Jack, you could have prepared a more friendly like presentation.’
Frankly speaking, I am not exceedingly worried about whether it has been friendly like or not but the seven years old schoolboy makes me care of not traumatizing Miss Delafou. Besides, Hank wouldn’t be glad to contemplate the Saturn again.
‘Ok, Miss Delafou, you are right. Somehow it has been a bit emotional, but if you ask…between us,’ I make a little step closer to her and partially whisper. ‘Yesterday I electrocuted a person and today I‘ve been given this case.’ She looked at the dossier in my hand. ‘That is a dossier of a certain man who I don’t know but the thing is that I am supposed to electrocute him.’
‘I understand, Jack, but;’
She is acting uncertain. I cut her short.
‘You don’t understand, miss. What would you tell me about your workday, if you murdered people every day? You are not happy to hear about that. You feel sick. If you ask, I have got no wish to be here talking of that, but I have done that as I am doing my job every day.’
She has nothing to say.
‘Sorry, Miss Delafou, but I have to go. And explain them which questions they’d better avoid.’
I left her alone with her thoughts. Glad, I haven’t had to listen a lection.
It is a road roller grinding our bones. Bones of those on the chair and those who say an executioner’s speech. Eliminating the moratorium they said it was a temporary solution. It was a war time. The nation had too many enemies and had to somehow save itself. Our mentors said they had to carry out three or four executions monthly aside from battle fields.
In a month we will have to make twelve. As far as I remember a number of enemies never decreased. Today, it is widely spoken about underground armed groups regularly getting caught according to newspapers but still they are active.
Is it possible to check whether those groups are real or…
How many people are getting arrested every day? How many of them are executed? How many are brought to labor camps?
What is the idea of a state? To have enemies to kill?
Knowledge piled for centuries, money backed by gold reserve, human resources born and our lives wasted on daily basis – all that is punctually used to deprive people of their lives. I am paid for that.
I asked you already – have you ever thought about your predestination? To serve your country?
Not that bad or senseless. The question is just, what does that serving involve? What is a state you have to serve? What is a state at all? Its essence. Getting its servants crippled?
I don’t see me in five years. I am frightened by the fact that I have to execute people five more years.
A month ago the letter I found under my door said:
WHAT DOES SUICIDE STATS SAY? NEVER CARED? TOP SECRET INFORMATION. YOU MIGHT HAVE ALREADY THOUGHT ABOUT IT WATCHING SOMEONE STRAINING IN THE CHAIR.
What makes me live? What defines my intentions? Where am I aspiring to? If those notes don’t lie – a certain one wakes up in the morning with only intention to make his child’s life better. They get him for nothing i.e. for “suspicious activity threatening integrity of the state”. In a couple of days I come to his cell and tell him when I electrocute him. I got a bad habit. I talk to him. That is how they tell me stories I would have better never heard.
I am just a solid screw in a machine. What makes me be  just a solid screw? On the hand it is clear – I am assigned to it and got no option. On the other hand, I am so cool and placid. Fear and duty made me screw. Why duty? Cause I am punishing enemies of the state. And then – are they real enemies? No but I proceed. That is the point I mean. I am a solid screw cause I take human beings for numbers and printed statements on a dry paper. I polished that ability for years and now I am a master of the art.
How many people commit suicides?
How many people are walking along the edge of the abyss?
A thorny is the path along there. I am like watching them walking there.
What am I afraid of is that while watching those on the edge I miss the moment when I am suddenly among them.



PAUL

In retrospective it is getting evident that no tyranny is possible without enemy.

June, 5

‘We need the enemy, Levy.’
‘We have the enemy’
‘There is an abstract enemy but we need a tangible one.’
‘It would be better if you were a bit clearer.’
‘Ok. Tell me, do you want to have an enemy?’
‘Of course I don’t. Why?’
Actually, why? Perhaps, it is the most frequent question, a kind of basic question. When a human being starts conceiving the world around they usually ask the same question – why? Cause and consequence. Whatever said, whatever happened, whatever – what do we do the first? We ask why. A precondition to conceive the life – to ask why? Even if I ask a general question an answer I hear is “why”.
And you know what? Ask yourself what if children stop asking why and just take everything for granted. It is what is going on. It is a sign of mass degrading.
‘Cause you need it.’
He took a moment to comprehend.
‘I am getting what you mean, Paul. However, I wouldn’t say it is an open field. it is not reinvention of America.’
‘You mean news about attacks?’
He nodded and then said:
‘You look like meaning something else.’
‘You guessed it,’ I smiled.
‘So?’ asked Maurice, Levy’s comrade and a head of promotion.
I took a minute to gather thoughts. Everything genial is simple but everything simple is not that genial. That is why we usually never see any genial in obvious simplicity. I have come to a conclusion that there is a sort of distortion in it. So, you need to have a slightly distorted outlook to see that genial straw in obvious simplicity around us.
‘We need an enemy to keep ratings high but why the audience should need an enemy? In the manner that we get the audience and state at once. A one shot deal. You see, I have really taken deep insights into the problem. According to the psychoanalysis of development you can firstly define strangers quite soon but that uncomfortable anxiety occurs when you are about eight months. Do you remember your son crying when getting into your arms?’
‘He cried all the time,’ Levy said.
‘Because you're ugly.’ Maurice commented and they both laughed out.
I joined them but then had to go further.
‘Not quite, guys, not quite your ugliness made him cry. It is about non-mom face. You look a bit strange to him.’
‘Sure, I am working twelve hours a day,’ Levy said. ‘And you Maurice?’
‘The same thing. Starting from the scratch;’
‘Yeah, nights and days here.’
‘Ok, guys,’ I had to cut them short, otherwise it would come to those recollection about raising the channel from the knees. ‘It doesn’t depend on hours in the office. A child is bound to its mom. They used to suck a tit and look at mom’s face. Then you take it and it discovers another face and that burst it into uncontrolled crying. That is the moment we start separate love and hate. The process is going on gradually. They name it socialization.’
Who would have thought that such a commonly known process as socialization is reduced to developing a skill to separate strangers from non-strangers – between love and hate.
At first we learn to hate, than to speak.
‘I though socialization is about getting well on with people,’ Maurice said.
‘Something like that, but a bit more complicated,’ I replied.
‘So, I am…kind of not completely socialized,’ Levy laughed. ‘From time to time I am getting into bad tempers at socializing.’
They both laughed. That was how the most important meetings used to be held.
‘Love and hate, love and hate,’ I said.
‘I heard something about that,’ pretty serious said Maurice.
‘To love someone we need to hate someone. Do you get?’
‘Not quite,’ Levy.
‘Cohesion. There is an opinion that nothing unites a group of people quite like having a common enemy.’
‘Keep your friends close and your enemies closer,’ Maurice. ‘The godfather.’
Originally said in "The Art of War". A Chinese strategist and philosopher, named Sun Tzu is that who ones said the phrase.
‘It is right,’ I said. ‘But it is not about leading a war. I mean something else. Mentally. It is said, we got that need for coherence. Enemies provide us with this sense of coherence.’
‘It is like enemies unite?’ Levy.
‘Right you are. It is our basic need. Like communication and socialization.’
‘Yeah, something has to make sense,’ Maurice.
‘Freud meant like having an enemy outside of one's group helps create cohesion inside. Thus, having enemies is psychologically healthy.’
‘You mean we have to hate someone to feel ok.’
‘No, I don’t mean that. it is like…haven’t you noticed, that if you wife doesn’t fuck your mind she is usually speaking of someone else? Municipal service? neighbors?’
‘Aha,’ Maurice.
‘If you support her in that criticism you are gonna be a good husband.’
‘Yeah, a better way to maintain peace.’
‘After any serious attack taken quite a number of lives people used to feel a heightened sense of unity and patriotism.’
If people don’t have to survive they start going mad.
If people don’t have someone to hate they start hating each other and finally themselves. Thus, to stay mentally normal we have to hate. We are creatures made to hate.
‘You know,’ I continued. ‘Freud considered that people got that penchant for aggression as if we need to hate to feel ok.’
A generation without hate is a lost generation.
‘You sound dangerous, Paul,’ Maurice.
‘But it sounds reasonable,‘ Levy.
‘It looks like strange, Maurice,’ I said. ‘But studies show that people are more likely to bond over a shared dislike rather than a shared fondness in relation to each other. Just imagine, if you would here news like countries behind the wall are our friends and we want to love them from the bottom of our hearts. Don’t you think, that at least it would sound strange?’
‘I know, Paul,’ He said. ‘Ever since I can remember we have been creating the enemy.’
‘Do you know, that we need enemy to feel safe?’
The both exchanged glances but didn’t reply so I continued.
‘We need safer if we have an enemy,’ I paused. ‘In our sight. If we see our enemy we know where danger is. We control an enemy. Thus, somehow, enemies give us a sense of control. Moreover, in that manner we know where the source of all evil is. It is about our mental needs.’
‘I am not quite catching the idea now,’ Levy said.
Somehow I foresaw that moment. I needed an example and I got it out of the blue. Till the meeting I didn’t know what I would take for example but now I suddenly found it.
‘Religion. Do you know why we believe in god?’
‘To ask for help,’ Maurice.
‘But why?’
‘If we can’t solve;’ Levy.
‘Or,’ I cut him short. ’If we are afraid of something we don’t understand. Primitive tribes created gods to explain lightning and droughts. They couldn’t explain why it was so hot or cold so they needed someone who could control that and help them. That is why we need god. It saves us from something threatening we don’t see, we can’t detect. And consequently what is that threatening us?’
‘A fucking enemy,’ Levy said.
‘If you got an enemy you got something you can attribute dangers, threats and all that negative stuff to. Thus, you know that all evil doesn’t happen for no reason. It is an enemy. So, it is kind of controllable. Thus, you feel safer and you feel like you can control that. It is about restoring our sense of personal control. And finally, what is completely our nature – we need a scapegoat for all the shit happening to us. People need an enemy to scapegoat it.’
‘Ok,’ said Levy. ‘We understood that we need an enemy. I would say, we understood why we ideologically and psychologically need that enemy. It is like…quite understandable. But…Paul, what do you want to say by all that? we have the enemy, we know that we have it.’
‘He means, Paul,’ Maurice added. ‘You haven’t mentioned something new. In other words, what do we have to do?’
‘Ok, guys,’ I said. ‘We need not only to know that we got an enemy, we have to give our enemy face and name.’
I got them both perplexed.
‘Face and name?’ Levy asked
‘Everyone has a face,’ I tipped with my fingers on my face. ‘And a name.’
Two questioning looks at me.
‘What is done to arrested enemies?’
‘Execution,’ Levy
‘Labor camps,’ Maurice.
‘We execute a given enemy. Do you know those who we execute?’
‘I am getting,’ Levy guessed. ‘You want to show executions in “the accidents”?’
‘No, Levy, not in “the accidents”. We broadcast an execution in the frame of an independent show.’
Nothing more was said in the course of a certain time. Neither Levy, nor Maurice, nor me. Everyone questioned himself what, how and surely why? For a certain time we have been pondering on the question which really wasn’t a question.
‘Well,’ Levy said. ‘I like the idea. We have never done anything like that. however, it needs still some deliberate consideration…on… we need to give it a definite form. What do you say?’ He addressed Maurice.
‘What I like is that it is really ideologically justified. Now I see reasonableness of that cohesion speech. They like that political and ideological stuff. The idea will work out. And I agree as for giving a form.’
‘Sure,’ I said.
‘Ha, ha,’ Levy laughed out. ‘These rebels or terrorists, what would we do without them? tedious talking like getting rid of fleas and nits.’
‘Yeah, gardening, cheating husbands, shedding pets and so on,’ Maurice supported him laughing.
As for me, I liked the idea and I liked that they liked.
‘I don’t think we would come to tedious talking of husbands and pets.’ I said.
‘Why?’ Levy.
It is all about “why?”.
‘Quite simple. You know, guys, Nietzsche said once, If an enemy did not exist, it would be necessary to invent one.’
No one laughed out. And it wasn’t a joke.
It is our nature. We are born to hate to love and feel ok.














JACK

To win the war we needed a free will. To resurrect we needed a free will. Any kind of addiction is robbing us of our future and depreciating the deceased.

June, 20

It is known as an extra charge. From my perspective it as a wager.
My affection for football and consequently for betting will never leave me and I don’t want to let it go. It is like a woman you are passionately in blind love with. She is teasing you, kicking you around, fucking with someone else in front of your eyes but you forgive everything. Lack of constitution to let her go hang or you just like that masochistic approach.
I am a state servant, that means if I am betting my chief is informed about my addiction and approves it. The thing is that the regime has nothing against it. Why? It is a way simpler than it looks like. Through betting they keep me addicted to them. That is why our regime apart from a great number of totalitarian regimes doesn’t restrict betting. They keep us harnessed.
However, it doesn’t save me from numerous moral condemnations. Alex calls me an addict. Yeah, I am addicted but I am not addicted to killing. It is my way to relieve stress. A sort of tax. I am nourishing the dragon. If the dragon calls for a prey I go to Ullinn.
Ullinn is a bookmaker, a serious one i.e. showing solid results, an effective “tax” harvester, apart from it he is my friend. Anyway, not many people are ready to owe me to ease my hunger. Thus, I am in debt. He is somewhere about fifty i.e. no more young to follow games with a dope addict widely opened eyes and palled face in a pre-heart attack state and he is not old enough to sleep his evenings through in a rocking chair.
‘People say about that armed group, do you know something, Jack?’
‘Armed groups? Not a thing, Ull. What they say?’
Honestly, I am not sure they exist despite the fact…
‘I believed you know?’
‘Why should I?’
‘You execute them,’ bewildered.
Despite the fact I am executing dissidents, oppositionists, rebels  - “enemies of the regime”. But still I substantially have no idea about armed groups.
‘Ull, please, I am done with executions, spare me from that. No matter whether they catch armed groups or unarmed groups I am executing people without going into details.’
‘Ok,’  ever since I have met him he is constantly sipping something but always being sober. ‘Then you want to speak about debts?’
‘It comes to be I am damned to sour talking.’
‘Take it easy!’ He leaned back. ‘I am not gonna talking about that now but you just don’t forget.’
I nodded.
‘You look tired. A bad sleep?’
‘My job is a bad sleep.’
Never tell someone such things unless you are sure who you tell them.
‘Today is a promising boxing match.’
‘Profits?’
‘You could pay something back?’
‘Or dig deeper?’
For you to understand. Once I am in debt I am paying some percent back from the win.
‘Again parlay?’
‘Don’t tease me. You know how it happens. ‘
‘Otherwise you will win only a quarter of what;’
‘Stop teasing me! Today I am betting single.’
In the background Ull’s man explained rules to newbies. Once I was the same.
‘Now, my friends, keep in mind,’ He is quite load and intensive, but it is always here that way. ‘Parlays only pay out if every single leg of the parlay hits. If bet on four games, a single-game bettor would profit on a 3-1 day, lose a bit on a 2-2 day, lose more on a 1-3 day or lose all their money on an 0-4 day. If you parlay these teams together, you would need all teams to win to win this bet. If one of them loses, the entire wager is a loser.’
‘If you are a newbie you need to be a bit conscious, aren’t you?’ Ull laughed out.
I remember my first wagers. I tried to be conscious but all in vain. I used to win seventy five percent of my wagers but I was losing. In general, this guy is just getting these guys involved in a big lottery and he is aware of what he is speaking about.
‘It is all about the same. I won seventy five percent, than tell me why are you so profitable?’
‘Ha-ha,’ He knows what I mean. ‘But you are still in! Jack, it is betting, just betting.’
Ull’s meaningful smile.
‘Then, what is today? Citizens? A good chance.’
I nod smiling.
‘At first whiskey, then the miners.’
‘Ok! anyway I am still profiting much enough to hope for you to win!’
Of course, the citizens’ odd is 1.20 while the miners are not rated so bright – 8.35
‘Ull, it is betting, just betting’
I stood up to go to the counter for a glass of whiskey. Then to wager on my underrated miners. When I came back, Ull was still there waiting for me with a newspaper in his hands. The heading – Armed group sentenced.
‘I still wonder. Why wouldn’t they attack a bookmaker? We attract so many people here. I am worried.’
‘Ull, there are not many people to trust, but I trust you. That is why, I wouldn’t talk about such things here , but – I switched to whispering, - if you ask, ask yourself why there are so many hits and still no one hit you, your colleagues, why I don’t know about those guys despite I am an executioner.’
‘But they write about real attacks.’
‘You sure that it wasn’t a gas bottle explosion? Or, Ull, why don’t you set your car on fire and then write that some armed group in black hit your car?’
Ull is shaking his head.
‘I got what you mean, Jack. But please, if you talk like that talk it whispering’
‘As I do. Besides, if you are on the edge of a rocky abyss you shouldn’t beware of wind or enemies, you would rather beware of yourself. Something in our head can switch the tumbler into a wrong position. I am not afraid of falling down, I am afraid of stepping forward into there.’
I take a large tug on my neat whisky. Ull is taking his third glass. Still sober.
‘That is it, Jack. If I could help you.’
‘You help, you help. Really, Ull, you help more than anybody. You bookery (that is I name his business, it is like bakery ) is my safe haven.’
He is tapping me on my shoulder. Smiling.
‘You are welcome here, Jack.’
‘I know, I know.’
I got overwhelmed by the thought that the bookery is really the only place I feel comfortable in. My home is just four walls which belong to the law enforcement. They must have installed there a couple of bugs to keep me under control. It looks like the bookery is my true home.
‘You see, I like you much, but this regime,’ Still whispering. ‘I have a family. Children. Three ones. They eat, go to school and university. They need me. They need home and family. The same like me. I love them and I do that all not for the state but;’
‘I understand, Ull. I appreciate your trust. It is a rare thing today.’
I take the last tag.
‘Besides, I don’t want to struggle anymore. I enjoy my whiskey. This bookery is my family’s clear sky. I am fifty and I don’t know what comes later. Maybe it comes the day when we meet each other in the other place.’
I looked at him. He is cool, calm, serene and old. Now I see him as an old man. An old tired man.
‘Have you ever known a man from a labor camp?’
‘I had an acquaintance who was unlucky enough to get there. Surely I didn’t meet him anymore. He must have died there. Why do you ask?’
‘You know the statistics? Eighty three percent die there.’
‘I have lived many years here. I know that labor camps weren’t planned to let people back home. Underground, constructions and so on. They are like paying eternal debts out. People without future. They say you better die in the chair than go there. They go mad there.’
‘I heard they take people and in ten days they are in the morgue.’
I remembered a drunk who I met here once. He was telling a story which wasn’t supposed to be told aloud. People pretended not to listen to him but they did. The man looked shabby. He belonged to those guys who worked around the hour digging ways for underground trains. According to his words, a uniformed group broke into his neighbor’s flat. Without saying a word and asking a question they took a man and drove him out. He never came back home.
I didn’t remember details but the last he meant was like:
‘It is like more safe to work in the underground. The police doesn’t like these godforsaken mines. Too much shit in the air to breathe there.’
He spoke much about the underground. I didn’t pay much attention. Another one who no one would ever care about. A lost person without ID.
Somehow I remembered him now. I saw a black dust on the corner of one of the letters.
If you manage to get through the camps you are doomed to the underground where there is no air to breathe.
Ull started telling me about his everyday. His son finished the first form. The daughter felt like being a reporter. The oldest son would be a financial controller and Ull would like to hire him then. His oldest should take over the business.
Once I would come here and have a glass with his son. A clear sky.
The miners lost. I have taken five glasses. Not much but enough to get another trouble.
Leaving the bookery I opened the door a bit too wide, a bit too harsh and maybe a bit too disrespectful. She exclaimed that hysterically – Fuck!
Something has been spilled on her cleavage. I was a bit scared by her exclaim and lost my head for a while and perhaps forgot to apologize for my rough deed. The cleavage looked sexy but I was far from being focused on it. I was really somewhere else. Lost in mind. But somehow my gaze acted fixed on the cleavage.
‘You dick!’
The hit could have been better so I managed to get off quite cheaply without glaring wounds and bruises. However, I felt the coldness of the pavement. I just stood up and followed my way.
I am too tired and fed up to search for conflicts. It would be painstaking. The only thing I want is to lose consciousness for a couple of days.
Tomorrow’s new client is disturbing me. Hank gave a day off, but it doesn’t really matter. Till the weekends I would like to get it done. Today is Tuesday. If I get him done at Friday I have a good weekend with another wager in my pocket.
I got the bus and who do you think I met there? Miss Delafou.
‘Miss Delafou,’ I was sincerely glad to see her in the end of such a shitty day. ‘Glad to see you!’
Not sure she felt the same.
‘Mister Jack,’ She said quietly.
‘Strange to see you that late.’
She hesitated to reply but my appearance evoked questions.
‘Did you fall down?’
She is looking at my dirty coat. Then she probably smelled whiskey.
‘Oh, it is clear.’
‘What would you believe in whether i fell down awkwardly or got punched?’
‘The second.’
‘I got a bruise?’
‘No, but you make an impression of a guy who could be punched.’
Not bad.
‘I got punched.’
‘You deserved?’
‘Sure, I did but it was unintentionally. So, what are you doing that late?’
‘Enjoying time in the swan lake park.‘
‘Reading?’
‘Feeding ducks.’
I am getting sober. Thanks to that guy who knocked me down. It’s been a good push for me to put together. The pain. Now I feel the punch was good enough cause now pain was echoing through my head. Ducks. She is feeding ducks.
‘Ducks. Why the park is called a swan park? It should have been called a duck park.’
She smiled.
The bus is nearing my station.
‘I have been betting today. Lost again. I am betting every time after I have someone done.’
A short pause.
‘Executed?’ She asked quietly.
I nodded. The bus has come.
‘The station. I have to go’ I smiled.
She smiled back. Such a small talk. Of nothing but with good aftertaste.
I got out of the bus and headed home.
I am again a seven years old kid. Behind a transparent vail of purity. On the hand, I feel good, easy somehow but on the other hand it is getting more difficult to live the way I live.
If you would ask me whether I would like to marry her and make a couple of kids with her – I would ask, an idea is not bad at all, she is good, really good. “Good” is a good word. However, I hesitate. She is a teacher cultivating goodness and kindness. And me? From time to time, twice a week, I am killing people. In the time between I communicate with people who I kill twice  a week. That is a burden I am bearing everywhere and every day.
Thus, the question is - does she need a man whose job is killing people?
Hi, darling, how are you?
Hi, darling, some troubles, but slight ones. The guy was crying much while I was dismembering him.
Then you would ask – If not marriage, then maybe something not so complicated?
Not a bad idea at all, but that seven year old kid makes that complicated. I like her, I like that feeling. Besides, I got some arousal issues. You know, they call it libido. I noticed that six or seven months ago. Such a tendency isn’t a rare case if you kill and torture people from time to time.
Fucking purity. Fucking seven year old kid with his disturbing feelings. Fucking ducks in the swan lake park.
What makes me come home? If you came in there on mistake you would contemplate an uninhabited flat for sale. A picture of a flat with no furniture. A man went bankrupt and lost all his money due to financial bubble blow. He sold all he could but rare elements and still no money to pay mortgage back. It is my home.
It belongs to the state. When I retire a certain payment will be deducted from my pension. Sooner or later I die.  Then another state servant will enter here to the vision of these naked walls as once I entered here after a previous state servant left it for me.
It looks grey. It smells grey. It sounds grey.
So, what makes me come home?
Its emptiness and monotonousness are a logical continuation of me. Without that poor look I am incomplete. We need each other. While I am sleeping these walls like dischargers are sipping life from me keeping my vitality on a necessary level to fulfil my duties.
One day, in a deep summer night, I will exhale and…The state settles my funeral check. There will be no inscription on my grave stone cause there will be no stone. Even no “a state servant” as if I never existed.
I am coming home again and again. Nothing is changing. It says more than anything. The only way to escape is to burn these walls, to crush them, to make them vanish somehow.
Besides, i have no other place to come back but these walls. Their doors are always opened for me.
























ARTICLE

The Law Enforcement arrested 39 year old Vincent Oakman suspected in organizing terroristic attacks targeting representatives of authority and caused numerous deaths of high positioned officials and common citizens.
A former investment manager Vincent Oakman has been arrested right in the downtown of the City on suspicion of planning, organizing and execution of terrorist attacks using self-made explosive devices and guns with the aim of killing as many people as possible. As we have been informed the terrorist mainly targeted high level officials responsible for taking decision in social, financial and entertainment spheres.
According to the information provided by the prosecutor’s office Vincent Oakman could not organize and execute the attacks alone. From all appearances such a wide-ranging campaign can be organized and control only by a group of people.
“He is told to be one of the leaders of the underground revolutionary unit organized with the aim of  carrying out undermining activities against the state power. As usual in these cases, such units are choosing terroristic attacks as a main tool. We dare to suppose that some explosive attacks, gun attacks and even chemicals ones can follow” the statement from the City prosecutors said.
“To prepare the attack, he could come into contact with different arms and explosives  dealers. In all probability he could rent a large vehicle to transport all that. Moreover what it involves is the collecting financial assets to use for the purchase of all the above mentioned items for the execution of the planned murders.” prosecutors said.
For the time being there cannot be provided any further details. There was no immediate statement from any lawyers for the detained man. Vincent Oakman is now placed in the central investigative committee where he will be interrogated and prosecuted.
“In the result of Oakman’s house search there have been found materials and substances for manufacturing explosive devices as well as guns and bullets for them. Besides, on the walls we discovered the general City plan, communication plan and different canalization schemes presumably used for organization of attacks.”
On the questions as for Oakman’s mental state the prosecutor’s office hasn’t given any information with the justification that to date no any careful assessments and thorough expert reviews have been provided.
As for the circumstances of the detention the prosecutor’s office confirmed that Mr. Oakman didn’t resist the arrest. “The operation has been organized according to the highest standards, no one is injured, no one is killed, Mr. Oakman is successfully taken into custody and transported to the destination point.”



MACABER

In a camp:
Don’t be a hero as you don’t have energy enough to be one.

Every day I ask myself whether I would escape. If the answer is affirmative I am alive. Three men in my brigade crossed the mark of thousand days. They don’t hope to escape. They don’t hope to get out from here alive. They are dead.
The other thing that as it looks like is changing my life just now. I got my new name. My true name here. Three months ago during the days of harsh frost which took hundreds of lives here just for a couple of weeks I was about to die as well. I was on the edge longing for a numb death in dead snows of that forgotten terrain. I looked really poor and could hardly stand straight.
The other day I fell down and couldn’t stand up. I was deadly frozen and unable to take hold of my arms. The officer mistook me for a dead and ordered to take me away from the walk. Someone dragged me aside but noticed that I was breathing.
“A macabre appearance.”
They call me Macaber. For a good reason. I can easily see all my rips, arm bones and leg bones. I have lost muscles but the tendons have gotten firmer. Despite my poor appearance I can work even more than newcomers. I am tougher than a coffin nail. However, if you want to overcome the camp you had better avoid painstaking approach. It is not the place you should work hard. You are supposed to but find a way to take as much you can bear and not end up in the crematorium.
A month ago another one joined our brigade. The other night I heard him crying quietly. I though he was overstressed and couldn’t stand it anymore but he told me that cried about his handicapped dog. A week before he had been taken his dog’s pawn had been amputated. The dog needed daily care. It couldn’t do anything on its own.
‘A month is gone. Every night I am watching it crawling on the floor searching for water and food.’
His problem is that he doesn’t really knows who he would revenge on if he managed to survive here. He asked how long I have been here. I know that I have overcome two winters. Now is spring. It makes more than a year. I mastered the skill to work with frozen hands and hardly feeling my own fingers. Someone lost a finger, someone lost two, someone lost a hand. I happened to proceed with everyone on board.
I don’t remember his name. He is called “the dog”. He wants to revenge. It is a positive and healthy feeling here. It drives you. It makes you hope.
A week ago we heard a sudden outcry in the middle of the night. Then it became silent again. In the morning we knew that it had been a newcomer. No one had warned him to stay awake. He slept in. In the morning his bunk was empty. He had been eaten. Someone from my brigade saw a black bag with the remains.
A common story. Everyone here know those cannibals. There is no law, no court, no   vigilantism. We need working units. If you comrade dies you work for two. Cannibals eat humans but they work as hard as everyone here. However, you don’t shake their hands and you would never share a bread with that beast but snows equalize everyone to a single creature.



























JACK

Once my dad opened the manifest and read aloud:
A word is a human’s primal need. A word makes us humans. We all need to talk and be heard. Inflicting a punishment remember that any criminal is an unheard person.

June, 21

In a warm summer late night he might suffer from insomnia and bad tempers. Something made him go out to have a talk with his neighbor. No idea what they talked about but our hero took an axe and divided his neighbor’s head from his fatty body.
‘The man said something he shouldn’t have said. The guys say he let them all go fuck themselves,’ Danny said.
I knew why he got on the chair and that he denied a required respect towards law enforcers. 
‘In the cell he denied any comments,’ I switched to whispering. ‘The guys tried to press him but Johnny is a tough case, so the talk derailed.’
‘Somehow,’ He shrugged the shoulders meaning bruises on Johnny’s face.
 ‘This one wanted to report him,’ I explained.
‘Report on what?’
‘As far as I understood from our talk, it was about his daughter.’
‘Offended?’ Danny whispered.
‘Covering up. As a matter of fact, Danny, is it a new chair?’
‘Yeah!’ He exclaimed suddenly. ‘It worked out, the old is at repairs.’
I looked that around from the back and sides.
‘Looks like a solid one, Danny.’
‘The last model. Hope, a stroke will be enough.’
I took the papers.
‘Tell me, Johnny, should I tell something your daughter?’
‘No, thanks. She knows all she needs.’
I started checking the straps and whispered to him.
‘You see, fella, this chaplain is kind of a rat, so I have to say a speech I am supposed to. I don’t want to but I have to.’
‘Ok, no problem.’
‘The chair is the best one they say. Sound strange, but hope it makes you done as quick as possible.’
 ‘You are a strange guy.‘ He smiled.
I took a bag over his head. The last what this good and noble man who sacrificed himself for his daughter’s sake sees is my sour face. They all see that the last. Poor souls.
I take the paper and say my official speech that this poor guy is sentenced to death thru the fucking chair by the state court and I am going to implement the sentence and that electricity shall be passed through his body.
‘God have mercy on your soul.’
The Chaplain loves this part about God.
Danny pulls the lever.
He is straining hard squeaking with the straps. The chaplain is looking at him as if he is God himself who has gone here down to witness death of another sinner.
I am sitting and watching a poor Johnny getting roasted. I have to. The instruction.
A poor Johnny is desperately struggling for his life. Deep inside of me there is a man strapped to the chair. Johnny’s convulsion and jerks are reflecting onto this man. He is suffering but not dying, screaming but still being unheard. When Johnny’s fingers strain with pain this man finger’s strain as well.
I show no emotion. My skin is greyish, my eyes are clear glass. I don’t have energy anymore to show emotion. All the electricity emitted by my body goes thru that man deep inside.
Then he gave in and the electricity just passed a dead body for several seconds.
The smell appeared. You never confuse it for anything.
Danny switched off. The doc came up to him. Generally, he needed his stethoscope as a hearing kit but now he was trying to hear something.
‘Please, doc,’ I said.
‘I proclaim this man dead.’
The man inside is still alive in expectation of the final execution.
‘Thank you, doc.’
He turned around and headed to his chair in the corner. The chaplain comes to Johnny and touches him as if letting his sinful soul walk heavenward. Danny takes a report as usual and starts filling it in.
‘Danny,’ I said. ‘I am going to visit our next client now, so would you get it all done?’
‘Yes, Jack, I will.’
A good fella is booking another good fella’s death.
That is my job and I am fucking tired of it.

Iacobus. Refused to give his true name. Taken for exorcism.
It is not for the first time I have had to deal with strange men. Thus, I don’t hesitate to come into his cell. As a matter of fact, I am not that worried about the exorcist. There are two things spinning around in my head. Miss Delafou and new executional limits smoothly transforming into my mental ones. 
People say I look like an addict. People say I got a sallow color back in my face. Moreover I got a soft bruise on a left part of the chaw. Thus I look everything else but a state executioner.
The Central City Prison guard says:
‘You’d better change the complexion.’
‘It might have been worse, sergeant.’
I showed him my entry card. An entry card used to solve all my social problems. They don’t want to let you in, show a card of a state executioner and all the questions are evaporating. The color of my sallow face doesn’t matter anymore.
Iacobus. A sturdy man of 37 years. Stalwart, firm, broad shouldered. Brown eyes, black hair. A glare. This one could bore a hole in anyone. To sum up, the guy looks like a real witch hunter. If I were a demon I would like to spare myself from an encounter with that man. He looks like a bit nutty.
I sat down at the table and put a dossier on it.
‘It is written there you are not much of a talker.’
No reply. He is just looking at me. On the other hand, I am sick of all these freaks bloated with self-importance. Schizos are not a rare case to deal. From time to time they do something terrible like strangling someone’s pet, assaults, kidnaps, murders and so on.
The regime cancelled all the treatment programs for these category of population. There are hospitals but those are laid out for easy cases. Psychos with harder problems used to be sent in camps, in mines or just…
‘I see,’ I go on. ‘It is also written here you blew man’s brains out by means of a rifle you illegally possessed. You had been torturing the man for more than two days till you finally finished hem with a headshot.’
He is silent.
‘Do you know, why I am here?’
He is still silent.
‘Let me say to you who I am and what I am doing here. First of all, you can call me Jack, I am a state executioner. It is not the thing people are glad to hear, but you see, the circumstances. You might be thinking that I am another asshole eager to burn you alive. It is what I mean coming here, man,’
I am speaking slowly, sometimes very slowly.
‘I am supposed just to come here and inform you about a day, time and method you will be executed. But you know, it would sound too dryly. I am coming here every three days to guys like you not just to inform them about their doom. I have executed 127 men and women and I sleep bad. It is not about bad conscious. I just think that any kind of killing is a sort of burden that we, human beings, evolutionally aren’t supposed to bear. Finally, you might be mistaken if you take it…as if I don’t understand what is that to be here.’
I paused. Theo’s ideas are still breathing in me and for me. There is no referendum but still we should have a lodestar inside not to get lost in the dark.
‘You don’t call your true name, Iacobus. Why?’
I still hope he pronounces a word but he is lingering.
A fundamental truth when speaking to a schizo – Never ever mention anything dealing with such concepts as ‘schizo’, ‘psycho’ and so on. Such a word is an absolute taboo if you are going to take something out from the conversation.
Besides, it is just a matter of elementary morality.
‘It is my name,’ He said.
I believe that my poor complexion is what has made him to say a word.
‘I am glad to hear from you, Iacobus. A rare name, I should say. I meet for the first time. In somebody’s honor?’
‘Jacob Sprenger, Iacobus in Latin.’
‘Sprenger? Who is that?’
‘Malleus Maleficarum.’
‘Malleus what? I am sorry, Iacobus, but the Latin;’
‘Hammer of witches’
‘Oh, man, it is better. I have heard something. He was a sort of state executioner.’
He is obviously not sharing my sense of humor.
‘He was a man, who struggled against the evil. And you, Jack?’
That is why it is strictly recommended never to talk to your clients. The Instruction says it is not professional cause it should distract you from performing the duty. Such a dry formulation which is never questioned. I would recommend from talking to clients as well. It is not about distracting.
You start sympathizing.
You start contemplating from a different angle. It is not healthy. You sleep bad then. You can’t just get rid of it. We underrate “just a talk”. It is not convulsing that disturbs. It is a talk. 
‘That fellow, Davy, he is young enough to see someone’s head blown out, don’t you think?’
He is silent again.
‘Ok, Iacobus, I am not here for scolding and mothering, so you might be having something to tell. You know, that moralizing is left somewhere behind these walls.’
Miss Delafou must be playing just now some learning games with the kids.
‘Sooner or later Davy would have seen something like that. He faced a demon and he broke down.’
‘Do they really exist?’
‘Everywhere. You wake up with them, you work on their behalf, you say what they want you to say. The most dangerous enemy is that you don’t see.’
The most dangerous enemy is that you don’t see. Those newspaper articles flashed through my head.
‘Armed groups, terrorists, you can see them, but how would you act if they all were invisible and hidden deep under your own skin.’
Never listen to your clients, cause you are so tired that you lose concentration.
Never listen to you clients if you got to deal with your own gut feelings.
Never listen to these condemned, they are already dead, they see everything. They make you dead through stirring up your intestines.
‘The demons, Jack. You got ones?’
Have I already mentioned his glare? I have.
‘You see, there are so any demons inside. It is a fucking hotel in me.’
He smiled.
‘You are not ok.’
It was without those judgmental tones.
‘I have done 127 souls, Iacobus, I have never been ok. Don’t take it personally, man, but you are not the one who should speak about normality.’
‘Why do you do that?’
‘Wow,’ I exclaimed. ‘You are much of a talker!’
‘So?’
A question that I have never heard before. It sounds strange even for me, but I really have never been asked this question. Why do I execute? I need a pause. I‘ve made a pause. A minute or more.
‘All I know is that we are both condemned. You and me.’
Then it was a mutual silence.
‘So, is Davy ok?’ He asked.
‘Honestly, I don’t know. Strictly speaking, you will be electrocuted on Friday.’
Have you ever told anyone that they would be killed by you on a certain day of  a week. It is a hard burden to bear.
‘Sorry, a witch hunter, but I am only an executioner. I should say, I do it every week.’
He shook his head.
‘Whatever. What is your last will? I can do something, I am authorized for some tiny present.’
‘You did much?’
‘Oh, hunter, a precise number I can’t say, but I did many.’
‘Have I a sec?’
‘Yeah, take your time.’
While he was thinking, I was scanning through his dossier without any wish to concentrate on something and without any concrete intention to find something crucial. Just scanning. This poor guy, Davy, he got just fainted when our hero pulled the trigger.
‘Hanging.’
‘Hanging?’
‘It is my will.’
I didn’t expect such a will. One of the most strangest if not the strangest one at all.
‘Quite a will! Once, a guy asked me for a spa procedure and a big cocktail. He was denied, but it had been predictable. One wished a handjob by a girl, if there wouldn’t be any girl he wouldn’t be against a young man. He was denied as well. But no one asked for hanging. Do you know why? It is told to be really scaring to wait for death with a noose on your neck.’
‘Outcasts used to be hanged.’
‘Middle ages?’
‘Times aren’t changing.’
‘As far as I know, they used to burn them as well.’
‘Hanging, man, is my will.’
‘Ok, hunter, but it is not that easy.’
I scanned through the dossier once again.
‘Here is written you are supposed to be electrocuted. A method can be changed, but it is not me who approves it. All I can do is to recommend, but it can be denied as well as accepted. According to the law, you got a right for the last will and its fulfilment but I should tell you  that the magister, that one who makes decisions into this respect, retains the discretion to uphold it or not.’
‘Hanging.’
I nodded and took a petition form supposed to be used just for the cases like this one.
He followed every movement of my hand. I took a pencil and started filling in the form asking the magister to uphold a condemned man’s last will and change a method of execution from electrocuting to hanging.
On the other hand, it is the most normal will ever. It is a logical choice of every one to choose among the ways to be killed. Just now, in the moment of writing, I came to the conclusion, that  such a choice must be a must. But it is not possible cause no one would choose dismembering and skinning.
I finished the petition and handed it over to Iacobus. He had a prompt look.
‘Your signature there. It is your last will, an official document.’
He signed.
‘Another good message for you, hunter.’
‘Why?’
‘Your execution is gonna be postponed at least for a day.’
‘It is a rule?’
‘Yeah.’
‘You think it is a good message?’
The worst good message.
‘I got what you mean. Maybe this message is better for me that for you. Another day without killing.’
I closed the dossier and stood up.
‘See you, hunter. Anyway I come again to inform you about the way you are going to be executed.’
He nodded.
I was set about to go off the cell how he said:
‘Those demons, Jack.’
I stopped and turned to him to.
‘What is about them?’
‘Another one is coming soon?’
Never listen to these condemned. They are already dead. They see everything.
They know something what we those who live cannot conceive.
‘Don’t you think that the manifest is dead?’
A simple question. However, I have to mind what I say.
‘Not.’
He smiled as if he understood.
‘Nietzsche said. God is dead. We have killed him.’
The point is you can hardly differentiate a normal one from a schizo. Think about it. Just abstract yourself from the fact that you are talking a schizo and you won’t hear a schizo.
No matter how far you are going to immerse in the other world, a parallel one, you inevitably come into the reality you have all this time been in. The thing is, that you have been mistaken the surrealistic world for the one you are in.
I get money for the dead and gamble them away. Surrealistic?
The exorcist blew someone’s brains out. It is a usual thing unless it is exorcism. I took it for something outstanding in its nature. He has been talking of demons inside.
Isn’t a way to blow someone’s brains out a sort of exorcism method?
Isn’t it the same like changing among electrocuting, hanging and dismembering?
Isn’t an execution a kind of exorcism?
Would it be an execution if that guy blew out my brains out? Or would it be an exorcism? Not sure.
We are both condemned, it is a fact. The most dangerous enemy is invisible one, as if you are fighting someone inside. It is all fucking schizophrenia. Am I an exorcist who executes those exorcists? Demons. Demons, demons…
Another one is coming soon…Or has already come.














INTERROGATION

‘As a matter of fact, General, we don’t consider it an interrogation only.’
‘Than what else is that?’
‘An interview. However, anything you say can and will be used against you. That is why you have a right for a defense but you have denied. Can you inform us about the reasons of this denial?’
‘Obviously. First of all, your interim administration hasn’t been accepted yet. Thus, if you like, it is not that legitimate from my viewpoint. However, I respect a war time code saying that the victor will always be the judge and the vanquished the accused. We all care about our security, duty and future. To kill to survive. Besides, I am not that one who needs someone to speak for me. I still can think and speak and it looks like I am doing that in a right order. I am not looking for excuses and not trying to wiggle out away from the responsibility. Herewith I don’t need a defense.’
‘Herewith, the protocol provides for you official confirmation of the denial. We  should enquire about whether you are cognizant of your denial. We need that because;’
‘I know why you need it. I didn’t use to go back on my own words. If I said it once, I can’t deny it anymore. It is a matter of honor for me. In the circumstances I am mostly considered a criminal but whatever is happening I remain general. My father was a man of honor. My grandfather was a man of honor. Thus, I am not going to breach the tradition. You should understand that I am not afraid of facing trial and receiving the punishment I deserve. I will both confirm and sign under every word I have said here. I am aware that I am charged of a long list of crimes entailing death penalty in this state. I am ready to ask every your question and end up on the scaffold. Judgement and fate. As a soldier I got a code involving certain points which a civil man wouldn’t consider reasonable. One of them says I accept the inevitable and die with dignity. The dignity you accept the responsibility and following punishment makes you immortal. So, let’s begin with your questions’
A pause for the secretary to make required operational notes included in the protocol.
‘Thus, General, we respect your decision to deny the defense. So, the question is the cancel of the referendum.’








PAUL

If seen from a historical perspective, we used to streamline from extreme to extreme – from decline to decline.

June, 21

Faced with the temptation to have fingers in all the dirty pies Maurice couldn’t limit himself just to the limits of TV show promotion. In the line of his duty he used to have personal connections to a number of heavyweights getting known things first.  That was why when I found out that Asm d’Eau got arrested I came straight to Maurice having spared myself from useless trudging around the offices asking “why”. It was clear that no one would know “why”. Asm was the most unknown heavyweight from all the heavyweights. There was just a limited number of people who could say something about him. Very limited. And Maurice, being well up in Asm’s inner circle, was the one who could know more than the others.
High positioned people used to protect their widely compromised past but Asm was a way more advanced in his personal life protection. If you looked at his profile you would be surprised cause Asm was born once and just got a legal underground empire. Nothing had ever happened between these two milestones.
If you lobby for development of social infrastructure in attempt to make people like you, you’d rather hide such details from you past like visiting bordellos or abusing ephedrine. A cold sweat is breaking out from time to time at your forehead. Everyone got the same problem but Asm. He never worried much about such details cause he was the one who created the porn empire so much supported by the regime.
You see you can’t really accuse a porn king of filming porn and visiting bordellos.
‘I don’t tell you names, Paul,’ Maurice once said. ‘But there is a very tight circle of people who know Asm’s past.’
‘How he managed?’ I asked then. ‘Just tell me how. No details.’
‘It wasn’t that complicated. I mean the idea. The process itself was pretty hidden and…mmm…like a mixture of nitroglycerine. It could blow any moment but…Well, Asm got considerable assets inherited or not quite inherited. No details.’
I nodded.
‘On that basis he started a couple of closed bordellos and porn studios.’
‘Legally?’
‘That is the point!’ Maurice replied immediately.
‘At a certain period of time, authorities needed financial and control support. Besides, Asm got compromises for everyone and they knew it but he chose a win-win strategy. He invited them to invest. People used to like porn. They invested and legalized Asm business that in a couple of years developed into the empire you know. Authorities wouldn't have overlooked huge profits, perspectives and…sure…an exceptive opportunity to distract people from bad thinking by having given them what they could never have before. Really, Paul, you don’t need to please all, your target audience is just a poor percent of the most powerful. Give them what they want and they do the whole job for you. That is all.’
‘Play out a trump card -  to satisfy the lowest depravities.’
Maurice shook his head.
‘The key is methods. No one says anything about him. Why then?’
It was an old talk. Today it became known, Asm d’Eau got arrested. It looked strange cause the guy headed an empire with its claws stretched out to all the corners of the state where it reeked of power and influence.
Everyone talked about it. Suppositions, ideas, guessing and so on. Ina couple of days I asked Maurice. He acted perplexed. He didn’t know for sure and got no clear information from people who could know. I visited him another time at his house. Levy was there and a couple of friends of Maurice.
He seemed to know something and that something frightened him to some extent. Anyway he looked stressed. There was a man who had a direct relevance to porn sphere. As far as I understood he was from the channel in charge for adult content. That was why he interacted with porn dealers and unwillingly knew the sphere like the back of his hand. I couldn’t help but thinking about Asm and reasons.
Dark things like coffins – always on demand.
It was just a talking stream. One thing led to another…
‘Porn is a unique phenomenon,’ He said. ‘Have you ever heard about VHS?’
‘I did.’
‘Do you know why they chose VHS among tens of formats?’
‘Why?’
‘All porn was on VHS. And internet anonymity?’
I knew exactly that porn industry was maybe the greatest one. More than thirty percent of all web content was porn. This guy didn’t reinvent America but he was a kind of steeped in the spirit of that industry. A connoisseur.
‘People used to care about their personal data. Now, it is a ubiquitous must, but it began from bank and porn accounts. No one wanted their financial data go out into free access. The same like no one ever wanted anyone to know what made them jerk off in front of a laptop. Ask yourself, fella, why do you like to watch someone fucking someone?’
‘Tits, asses.’
‘No, man, it is a porn magic. It is your primeval instincts. If you want to eat, do you watch someone eating?’
‘No.’
‘That is it. A man driven by testosterone used to have that copulation and even in the harshest possible manner. Why did we stop? Religion, man, and on religion based social institutions. They literally forced us to monogamy as if anything else is a sin. I tell you, it is a healthy human instinct. Whatever they did and said we have never lost our promiscuous nature.’
We were sitting against each other. A glass table between us with two glasses and a bottle of whiskey (maybe it wasn’t whiskey, I can’t tell for sure) on it. He got caught up in all the excitement talking of it. He was obviously devoted to that sphere but he didn’t seem to be a common wanker.
He continued.
‘What is porn? it is a cinema. It is a kind of art. So, tell me, why should we ban it. We live in a good time. There were times when porn was forbidden. Now it is everything else but easy to film a solid sex scene. It is not just a five minute fuck. It is a matter of all cinematographic aspects revealing the most beautiful sides of human relations. Physical and mental.’
Porn is a pill against neurosis.
I enjoyed him speaking. It was a monologue of a devoted, excited, passionate man. Nothing was strained in his speech. It was a smooth flowing.
‘It is said,’ I interrupted him to fuel his excitement. ‘Porn is like heroin. It affects opioid receptors causing addiction. The same like, you know, alcohol or other drugs. Isn’t it a kind of unhealthy?’
He raised his finder and emptied the glass. Then he filled it again.
‘It is so. Opioid receptors. It is truth. But! First of all, we used to poison ourselves with all the shit we ever discovered. Right?’
I nodded.
‘Then. Which poison is healthier, heroin or a fucking couple? You see, you don’t need to answer. However, it is still a mental issue.  In general, porn just activates the same brain networks and if compulsively used it surely affects psycho like drug abuse. it has been always talked about the same things, disorders, hypersexual or some other, they have tons of them there and it all causes various problematic behaviors or some destructive patterns like fantasizing to sexual violence and so on. Alcohol and a number of pills are legalized but you see, porn doesn’t affect your heart, liver and so on.’
He was logical. If we took away a moral side a pure logic would be left alone and naked.
We are paradoxical species characterized by blatant absence of any logic. We drag genetically modified products through the mud blaming it for undermining our health but at the same time we are ready to pour an aircraft kerosene into the mouth.
Thus, if you talk about the damage porn does to you think about liters of alcohol mixed with thousands of painkilling pills suppressing your physical functions and causing any kind of sexual dysfunctions.
‘It is logical consequence of consumerism, - Maurice joined the talk, - beating up a consuming way of life you can’t exclude something. If you consume;’
‘You consume everything,’ Donnie added.
This man’s name was Donnie.
‘Essentials are all we truly need but if we don’t have to survive we need something to ease the hunger. Indulgencies,’ Maurice.
‘Sooner or later, indulgencies become essentials,’ Donnie.
We need to be addicted.
‘It is not really a mental problem,’ Donnie continued. ‘It is a kind of social matter. A human is a social creature. We live in society. We have to live in society and we need it. If you want to live in society you are supposed to follow its will, requirements. So, our society stimulates a consuming way of life. The most important part is status, so you have to get it and maintain high. Society doesn’t care about you it is just continually stretching you out. You have to give in. You do all to maintain status. You have to be a consumer. Eat. Drink. Entertain. Put on brands and so on. Then, you finally give in and start consuming. You feel overwhelmed with opportunities  desires and so on. You want to have it all. After all, you need a slutty woman ready to fulfil all your dirty fantasies. You want to have it cause a human is the same product as a bottle of milk.’

Zwar bin ich reich, doch reicht das nicht.

‘Enough is never enough,’ Maurice. ‘You want all and you want the best.’
‘It is a social model. People get their faces chiseled cause they want the best face,’ Donnie.
‘But you never get the best,’ I said.
We are an unsatisfiable society.
‘The more you drink, the more you want,’ Donnie continued. ‘And if you get the best of everything…ammm…you never get the best and do you know why?’
A silent Why.
‘Cause we are programmed that we don’t have the best. Somehow we are sure that there is something better and we want it.’
‘Because consumerism is a drug,’  Maurice.
‘And we all got addicted,’ Donnie.
They both alternated each other harmoniously complementing each other. It was really exciting how they coacted.
Chains of consumption on ankles and wrists. The art how a civilization exists. Porn is just a link.
‘You always want a bigger salary,’ Maurice smiled. ‘It is a best sign that you are a healthy one.‘
‘You see, Paul, porn is just a consequence, a part of the stream. It is like blaming a soldier for the whole army’s deeds.’
I nodded.
‘So, guys,’ Donnie said. ‘I have to leave you for a while.’
He smiled and left.
‘If you don’t know something about porn ask Donnie,’ Maurice said.
‘Maurice, may I ask you something?’
‘I don’t really know the reasons, Paul,’ He said and after a short pause added. ‘Everyone asks everyone why, but it is something really serious to just let it out. If you ask, I would recommend you from showing too much interest in this matter. if they took him, it is a…it is a serious thing, not for everybody.’
‘There is not much noise around him.’
‘Sure. Paul, you know all the news, I mean attacks.’
I nodded.
‘How many times has Asm been attacked?’
‘Once and ;’
‘Never more.’
‘Never.’
‘I will tell you something. Three officials were dead. Exactly those who weren’t satisfied with him.’
‘On what?’
‘Have no clue but the fact is. They got him and I don’t know why.’
He emptied his glass.
Look around and you see people emptying glasses. Enough is never enough. In an hour everyone wouldn’t be capable of any rational word. Donnie was drunk. Still there was something in his glance that said – I am deadly drunk but I know what you got behind your face.
Maurice definitely knew something he would never tell anyone. There are things we’d better keep inside. All I got left was guessing and supposing. Those why’s. They never end. If you got one it inevitably leads you to another.
It was a circle I condemned myself to.
When I was about to leave Maurice’s house Donnie came up to me.
‘Have you ever wanted to participate in a scene?’
‘You mean porn?
‘Yeah.’
He was absolutely drunk but still could speak.
‘I had it in my fantasies but…maybe it is not my constitute.’
‘There is a wise thing about porn. You never get disturbed by politics and other stuff like that. Do you know why?’
‘Why?’
‘Because all that political is unhealthy. I watch porn every day, in one form or another, my duty line. You should know, fella, I feel like a Buddhist.’
Donnie’s philosophy had definitely right to existence. A kind of distorted…no…destructive philosophy. As destructive as realism itself. Maurice was a wise man. He wouldn’t praise Donnie as a wise one if he wasn’t wise in his relation to the world and…you got.
I was drunk and didn’t want to go home. A too long way for a person who wanted to just fall down and lose consciousness. I crept into his decent library. The sofa there was so warm and comfortable. It would a miss to sleep somewhere else.
I laid down on it.
During last years I had a habit. I couldn’t sleep until I hadn’t read a bit. Reading worked like an infallible sedative. That was why I reached the arm to get any book to read it five minutes and finally sleep. there was a shelf with books. I was drunk and couldn’t read any title but still I intended to read something.
The book I angled out was Spengler’s the Decline of the West. It was an unknown book for me but I really never read it. I randomly opened the book and started reading. A sentence. Another one. then I turned over a page. Another page. Another ten pages. I reached a new chapter and decided to start reading from there. Just five minutes and I would be asleep already. I started.

The term habit (Habitus) is used of a plant to signify the special way, proper to itself, in which it manifests itself, i.e., the character, course and duration of its appearance in the light-world where we can see it. By its habit each kind is distinguished, in respect of each part and each phase of its existence, from all examples of other species.

I have never read the book but I knew that quote about habitus. It was about us and civilization as a part of us and vice versa. It was just what we had talked about with Donnie and Maurice.
If talking about consuming…
By consume we are distinguished as a species, but the degree of it will range from person to person.
Then, I fell asleep with the Decline of the West on my chest.


JACK

In Bedlam they treated patients by sending an electric current through their brains and feeding them with pills. It was how they kept them tamed. The patients were calm, obedient and harmless. Totalitarianism applies the same treatments.

June, 23

Having handed the petition to Hank I absolutely incidentally came across  Paul Chichi. I was quite surprised to meet him in the bureau because he worked on television.
‘What are you doing here?’ I exclaimed.
Paul is my closest friend. It seems strange but such a fair-weather person is the most reliable friend. We know each other from the first school form. Just that time I firstly experienced true love for my teacher. Miss Delafou again flashed through my head.
‘Hi, it comes to be you guys will hang someone on air again.’
‘I see that time was successful.’
‘A wrong word, it was a nuclear blast, man.’
‘Your idea?’
‘Well, somehow,’ he shook his head
‘Ok, Paul, wouldn’t we go somewhere to eat something?’
‘Sure.’
So we set off to the local Italian caf;.
As for Paul. He is self-promoting, cunning and thoroughly conscienceless. All in all can be sold and promoted and there is nothing in world what doesn’t have a price. If you want to call for his consciousness you are doomed to failure. He has never concealed that he is thoroughly cynical by nature and a human being is for him the same good as those milk bottles in a shop. As for human grief, pain, suffering and any other anguish of mind and body it makes profit as well. All he wants is playing on human hidden and sinful desires. He knows the way it works and he loves it.
 To put it briefly, he is ready to sell your soul…especially for getting more souls in exchange.
‘As usual it is about  getting eyeballs to get numbers, revenues and so on. It is being toughly brainstormed. Just kidding but someone proposed to kill someone on camera. To organize an attack and so on. I just had a concept of the enemy. We want to know our enemy and somehow we need him. Then, a little push. All people think financially and?’
‘What?’
‘The will to power. Psychologically people aspire to power to a certain extent. Some need a position, some are hooked on sex domination and so on. That is we all need power. And do you know who is gonna to be the man number one in the city?’
‘The main prosecutor!’
‘Right you are. Thus, people see that our law enforcement works efficiently and extremely merciless towards enemies of the state. Isn’t that a reason for you to give your only vote to that great man?’
Pasta alla carbonara. It is said to come back to charcoal miners, but there are some discrepancies. I prefer the version about Americans. In the year of Rome liberation by the allies the Italians used to eat much eggs and bacon. Combined with the fact that the Italians mix everything with pasta it inevitably ends up in a new dish basing on spaghetti. Thus, they say those Americans fell in love with the dish known as "Roman dish".
‘So, I am a lucky man. I participate twice a week.’
‘But you don’t look much of a lucky man.’
‘They up the limit.’
‘What limit?’
‘They want more executions.’
Grapefruit may help control blood sugar. I am not sure whether I really need that but order two juices. I don’t care. Hope my sugar level is ok from now on.
Grapefruit may even help prevent cancer. What is gonna kill me first? The chair or cancer?
Have you ever thought which products can kill you?
‘You see, it is all connected. Coincidences are thought out to keep you calm. It is a waterfall of money. It is a votes magnet. People are big on watching a great man being executed, but  most of all they are big on watching a great man being executed. ‘
‘And who is that one?’
‘Asm d’Eau.’
‘Wow, porn king! Is he a French?’
‘Baron or count. He is said, but truth or not…the carbonara isn’t that bad!’
He suddenly appreciated spaghetti. I agreed by shaking my head.
‘How that one could end up that way?’ chewing.
‘No clue, but the idea is that your origin, background and bank account don’t matter. It is obvious that there is something behind the backstage going on. The only thing I know is he is suspected to finance a terroristic group. But, Jack, I talked to people who know him.  They say it was a way too mysterious.’
‘You knew him?’
‘Of course not! There is a quite limited number of persons who know him. Doesn’t matter, they say he looked nervous and spoke about a certain man following him around. He never saw the man before, but last days he noticed him everywhere. The shadow man. You are getting panicked when such a shadow is always behind your back. I can tell you, you don’t really sleep cause you feel this one right behind your window. It is the moment you get that your days are counted.’
‘I heard something about these shadows.’
‘I should tell you, porn is too lucrative thing to ignore. Especially if that can be useful for the regime. It is like playing with fire.’
‘Got fingers in a pie?’
Sometimes he acted too concentrated on the dish as if neglecting me, but the carbonara was really good.
‘Porn is one of the most profitable products. First of all you pay and then you stay hypnotized. The more addicted you are, the better. There are about fifty genres watched every day. No one would stop this money flow. If you think that porn is all about the same, you are theoretically right, but practically look how different we are when it comes to arousal. You know, Jack, there are closed studios only for the cream of the state. You can get there only if you are ready to pay an amount, you are a high positioned guy or you got connections. So, it is a bed where a guy fucks a girl but there are no walls around.’
‘No walls?’
‘No walls. There are cabins instead of them. Thus, this couple is closed from all sides anyway. Got it?’
‘Cabins instead of walls. As far as I understand, there are peep widows in the cabins.’
‘Yeah, there are eight cabins, two on each side.’
He pictured the studio with his arms in the way designers do when speaking about their visions and plans. You know, this glance, as if they look somewhere thru the walls and people.
 ‘But it wouldn’t cost so much if they could just peeping.’
‘You mean they;’ I lingered.
‘Bingo!’
‘They can fuck this girl once they want?’
‘Man, they can fuck her as they want, no limits.’
‘Beating?’
‘As a rule, they never beat her. They keep to certain limits, unspoken ones. They come there to ease hunger not to spill the blood. Besides, there are some people coming to enjoy a good company of boys.’
I wouldn’t say that I am shocked or something like that. Not at all. I have seen and done so many appalling things that I am no more to get perplexed. Of course, I am not imbecilic to consider authorities righteous semi-gods keeping us save. However, I mean that some people got more mental troubles than me.
‘You been there?’
‘Am I a billionaire?’
I nodded.
‘I know, Jack, cause I am informed a bit about how people here prefer relieve stress. For example, what was the emerging trend last year?’
‘Trend?’
He smiled.
‘I see. Midgets.’
‘Midgets?’
‘Yeah, midgets. The midget circus, haven’t you heard?’
I shook my head.
‘They are very strong. Physically, I mean. People like watching them running from bears, beating each other, falling from the high and so on. They look amazing. ‘
‘I have heard something about that. They throwing tomatoes in those midgets.’
‘Exactly! tomatoes, eggs, anything you have. I mean something that doesn’t traumatize them. No solid things.’
‘Just throwing in them?’
‘Yeah. You can buy some tomatoes specially sold for throwing into them.’
‘Isn’t that a sort of harassment?’
‘Technically not. It is a show. They agree to be thrown. Such an entertainment business.’
‘Agree to be harassed?’
‘Somehow.’
Once I executed a midget. He was an angry man. I remember him because we got problems with the chair. We ordered new set of belts specially for him. He got postponed because of that. Then I executed him. He stayed silent all the way along. Really a tough guy.
‘The circus is popular, but,’ He paused. ‘Midgets are quite a profitable sexual product.’
‘They fuck midgets?’
‘And it costs. You pay and do with that little thing anything you want. I should say, for the present there are not many perverts, but time passes and it happens quite rare that someone overplays. Rare still but;’
‘Fuck! Do you remember a little Lolly?’
‘He wasn’t a midget.’
‘Whatever! He was quite little.’
‘A good chap he was.’
‘Can you imagine that someone enjoys throwing tomatoes in him?’
‘Not, Jack. But he was not a midget, he was just lower than others. People adore midgets. It is deviation that matters.’
Old Lolly was around one meter and forty centimeters. I remember him as an old man. He died many years ago. People loved him.
‘Deviations, Jack, deviations are always in trend.’
‘And what then? Fucking donkeys?’
‘If paid.’
From time to time I ask myself as of Paul how he manages to keep himself away from mental disorders.
‘Do you have a sound sleep, Paul?’
He got what I meant. He gets all the times. He leaned back and smiled.
‘You are not the first who asks me about that.‘
He looked into the window, pressed his lips and continued.
‘You see. I am supposed to have already gone mad and committed suicide some years ago, but I am still ok and do you know why?’
‘Full attention.’
‘No secrets from you, darling.’
He put an absolutely tranquil masque.
‘No idea why. Maybe I am just born for that job.’
‘Anyway, it is not killing.’
‘I am not a bloodthirsty jerk but people are. We show them what they want.’
Suddenly I felt a little bit tired. Such a feeling you have an hour before to go to sleep. Suppression. Paul noticed that.
‘We have to nourish the dragons.’
‘I feel as if I am a zoo keeper. I mortify someone to nourish someone.’
‘As for me, I walk around this zoo with a cart full of carcass.’
‘Yesterday I spoke to an exorcist who I am gonna execute soon. He asked me whether I got demons.’
Paul tranquilly followed me.
‘If they exist I sure got some, but the thing is…I am…I believe…Ok, we all died many years ago but all we had been like torturers in concentration camps burning people alive. Then, that judgement day and we were assigned to hell doomed for eternal suffering.’
I took Paul’s glass and emptied it as if I wanted to forget everything thru that magic juice.
Got no more to say.
‘Mmm…I don’t know…we shouldn’t have exterminated those poor souls by burning them alive. Taking consequences.’
I smiled. Paul continued.
‘If you ask, here and today, do like Vikings do. Take an axe, pump yourself with some toxic substance and go mad. Either someone kills you in that madness or you fall down overdosed.’
I nodded.
‘And then my eternal suffering will come over again.’
‘Be positive, I understand it is not that easy, but we all got no other choice.’
He finished eating.
‘Ok, I really have to go. People crave for bloo.’
‘Nourishing the dragons.’
We stood up and went to the exit. On the street there were crowds of people hurrying somewhere from somewhere. Flows of people. On the digital tableau there were messages scrolling. Indexes of economic stability.
‘Soon you will see there,’ He looked at the tableau. ‘That the channel will regularly broadcast executions.’
‘On the big screens?’
‘Yeah. The scaffold. I believe it will sound this way.’
‘The scaffold?’
We kept silence for a while.
‘I have to.’
He tapped me on the shoulder.
‘Take care, darling. It is a sort of a day of glory.’
I looked at him questioningly.
‘We prefer a superstar death, don’t you? Why not to be a sacrificer in one way or another?’
A sacrificer. You take an axe and hack someone’s head off. It rolls down the stairs. The blood is everywhere. Pulsing out of the neck. You are fully spotted with blood. It is on your eyes, cheeks, lips, arms. You raise the axe greeting the public. They are incessantly roaring with rage. Ecstasy. They demand more deaths. More heads. More blood.
I take another one.
Another one.
Another one.
Till I have to walk long along the heads to leave the place. Thousands heads. My arm hurts after having hacked so many heads. People love me. Greet me. They shout out my name. idolizing.
Aztecs. Then they demand for hearts ripped out right from human breasts. I enjoy my universal love. They call me priest. Oracle. Sacrificer. Yes, Jack the sacrificer. The universal love.
A bloody nightmare. I cream myself white. The blood spots make a spectacular contrast on white.
I am standing on the pick of a pyramid formed scaffold. Thirty meters high. I raise my both arms up shouting out some sacred stuff. They bring me the next one. He is crying, protesting, fighting over the power but in vain. They hold him tight while I am sawing his head off. Wild cries. Then I throw his head down along the stairs.
Have you ever though how you would live in a pure madness world?
We are stepping forward our way. The path of the righteous man is beset on all sides by the inequities of the selfish and the tyranny of evil men.
Blessed is he, who in the name of charity and good will, shepherds the weak through the valley of darkness, for he is truly his brother's keeper and the finder of lost children
My cell. Hank is calling. It must be concerning the exorcist.
‘Hi, Hank! How are the children?’
‘No over the cell, come into my office.’
Ok. The swan lake park has to wait.










ALARIC

De rebelli:
An act of violence is supposed to demolish your present enemy physically and demolish your future enemy mentally.

June, 22

Entering the office a worker of the department for culture noticed a wooden box on the stairs. There was an inscription – for the department of culture. Written in red. Below it - Phin’s name as a receiver.
She took the box and sent it to Phin’s secretary. A soft hearted woman was worrying about her boss who had been absent for two days without informing her what looked like strange because he used to be a punctual and considerate person.
He hadn’t come. She tried to get him over the phone but didn’t manage.
On the following day he was searched by the state police. He was found neither in his house not in any other place he used to visit. They say, the police checked even places which shouldn’t be mentioned. He was nowhere. He disappeared.
When a detective visited his office to search for clues among papers and everything what could somehow explain his disappearance he let his assistance to open up the wooden box. The assistance noticed that the smell emitted from the box was quite strange and resembled something.
When he opened it the secretary fainted.
There were Phin’s elegant brown leather shoes manufactured in Italy. She knew that it was a limited edition. A pretty expensive one. But not that shocked her so much. They were just shoes. She was shocked by Phin’s feet in the shoes separate from Phin’s self.


‘Did you know Nobel?’ He addressed the man chained to the wall.
The man, named Phin, was a lobbyist helping a number of investors to get a right to open the midget circus. Without saying, he had his fingers in the pie.
‘No, please!’ He was crying and begging
‘Do you know what happened to Nobel?’ He asked Phin again.
Phin started intensely shaking his head negatively.
‘Please, I don’t know Nobel and what happened to him.’
‘You know, you liar!’ He roared and grabbed Phin at his wrist and started twisting it slowly till Phin screamed with pain.
‘Liar!’
He others stood around and watched Phin crying. No one interrupted. Phin, on his knees, was even bigger than them all standing on their feet.
‘Have you heard about the midget eaten by the bear?’
Phin’s wrist was barely twisted but still injury wasn’t as hard. He was given a chance and he understood that.
‘Yes!’ He cried.
‘So, why do say that you don’t know Nobel?’ pressed his wrist a bit more. He felt that the wrist was about to crack. The tendons reached their limit.
‘I didn’t know his name was Nobel, I never knew him! Please don’t do it!’
‘Shut your mouth!’ He roared. ‘But I give you a chance. A choice. Your wrist or Nobel’s way?’
‘What do you mean?’ He moaned through increasing pain.
‘Your wrist or Nobel’s way!’
Suddenly Phin got what was meant and he was really scared.
‘No, please, it is not me! No!’
He looked at the others with Phin’s wrist in his hand. He looked them around waiting for their opinion expressed.
‘Wrist, Alaric,’ said one of them.
Having heard that Phin started begging screaming.
‘No! please! Don’t do it!’
Alaric pressed. Everyone heard the tendons cracking. And then, Phin’s screaming echoed through the rooms and halls. Alaric let him scream. Sooner or later, screaming would stop. Pain burst out as an unchained beast. Phin was screaming. His hand became just a rag causing much pain.
In a minute he stopped screaming but still kept crying further.
‘In my opinion,’ Alaric said. ‘You won’t see the sun anymore.’
‘Please! It is not my fault!’
‘Then whose?’ Alaric was pretty quiet.
Phin looked into his eyes as if trying to appeal to Alaric to understand him.
‘I am just getting rights. Legal stuff, man. It is my job. There are bigger people who want it. It is the state. I can’t a thing! Please! I just do a legal part!’
Alaric’s indifferent glance was getting him really mad. He was begging. He hoped still that they would just threaten him and beat…maybe…but he didn’t expect anything like a death punishment.
Alaric raised his hand to stop him.
‘Shut up,’ he said quiet.
Phin tried to say something but managed to stop. He was scared to death and preferred to submit.
‘Please, don’t lie to me. I know more than you think, Phin. It wasn’t just a legal stuff. You invested.’
‘Yes, I did, but I don’t plan your program. It is just investing…like….ah…stock exchange…or…just investing.’
‘And lobbied.’
‘It is my duty. I am a state official, I have to, they made me! I had no choice! Please!’
‘And Nobel, Phin, did he have a choice?’
‘Please, I didn’t.’ He was crying, fumbling, moaning. Saliva was stretching down from his mouth.
‘And us? Do we have a choice?’
‘It is not me…they…made…state.’
‘Phin, because of your permission, a legal stuff as you said, we are supposed to fight for our lives every fucking day. Nobel was one of the best but the bear was lucky that day. You all applauded. You all were excited when the bear tore him apart. Why? Say to me, why?’
Phin was just crying. He couldn’t say a word. He understood where Alaric was leading to.
‘My dad,’ Alaric continued. ‘Was a hard fella. You know, that kind of people, not as refined as you are, not as intelligent as you are, he couldn’t even read. He couldn’t write, but people respected him as a worthy man. Do you know why?’
Phin’s lip were trembling.
‘Why?’
‘Cause he never came back on his words. And he was extremely cruel. Once, he strangled his dog because this one didn’t obey. It is not that easy to kill your dog. People were afraid of him especially when he was in rage. But it was like a righteous rage. You have to act really cruel, breach the limits to make an influence. It worked every time and still we keep to it. We are treated cruelly by you. Agree?’
Phin couldn’t reply. It was too obvious that the question was kind of a rhetoric one.
‘You see. You all are applauding and making fucking photos when a midget is being eaten by a bear. Is it cruel?’
Phin had nothing to say. He was crying.
‘I know for sure that for every action, there is a reaction. Cruelly in both cases. You all let the bear eat us. It is a cruel action. So, there is a reaction. As cruel as an action. An eye for an eye, you see, Phin.’
‘Please! I can do something for you. I can lobby  for you. We can close the circus. We can change it! Please! Let me do that!’
Hysteria.
‘I hear a desperation,  but I don’t believe you. Should I?’
‘I am who can lobby for you. Nobody else, but me!’
‘Why didn’t do it earlier?’
He was crying and moaning. Saliva and blood mixed in his mouth. Tears flew into there. He was spluttering for his life.
‘Sorry! I am so sorry, but…now I can!’
‘No, still I don’t believe. We need a reaction. People need a reaction. You fucking humans need that reaction. Do you know why you keep the bear hungry?’
‘No’
‘To keep it angry. A hungry bear is easy to get enraged. He moves fast and is extremely cruel. It makes a good show. So, we didn’t feed him today.’
He stepped away from Phin.
Two midget came to him and started unchaining him.
‘No!’ He roared. ‘No!’
He tried to resist but it was pretty difficult with a broken wrist and two broken fingers on the other hand.
‘Please! I am begging you! Please!’
Then everyone heard the bear’s roar. Phin got hysterically and started squalling. He provided all the possible human sounds but nothing was enough. Alaric was deaf to all of them.
He resisted as he could till he got several heavy hits with a piece of iron pipe against his legs. He didn’t want to yield.
They dragged him to the bear’s cage. His roar was getting louder. It was nearing. With every step his life was disappearing.
When he was brought to the cage Alaric came up to him.
‘Tomorrow they will find your feet. They will get it delivered. The feet only. As for the rest…the bear is too hungry. It is gonna be really painful but…he might tame you with just a couple of punches. So, it won’t last much. Just seconds of unhuman pain and…We all need a reaction.’
One of the midgets opened the door and they just threw him into.
The bear didn’t lingered and attacked him fulminant.
Phin’s roar was anything else but human’s one. Just seconds and then he got silent.





























MACABER

In a camp:
Humans and dogs are the same things. They eat each other.

They prepared the escape for months. They planned every detail, every move, every fucking link in a long chain of escape preparation. They surveilled the surveillance. A perfect timing is particularly crucial if your life depends on seconds and pretty complicated synchronization of certain processes and activities. The whole work they carried out they kept under thick wraps. Very few people knew about and it wasn’t a fault. It was a measure necessary for synchronization of certain kind of construction activities. Those guys were reliable and they hadn’t them laid out. They were not to blame.
It was a train with new prisoners coming into the camp. The last wagon went off the rails. The train went already slow enough cause there is a curve right before the gates. So they managed to stop it without tremendous consequences. Getting off was caused by a damaged rail. If it had been a common freight they would just transport their a couple of brigades to deal the accident but the train was full of prisoners. The train chief called reinforcement. They were quite operative. They came soon and they came with dog drilled for human hunting.
One of these dogs smelled our escapers out.
The administration made an unforgettable example of them. A sturdy guy with a massive axe hacked out their arms. Then they were tied up to a pillar and watched how the officers were fragmenting their comrades. The whole brigade. Thirty men. They crushed their bones on the legs and let them die there. That moaning will never leave me. A cold death. It is quite cold here this time. And sure, they needn’t feed the dogs a couple of days.
I am here about two years. I see deaths every day. On the next bunks. At working. There had been a guy who dies during the talk. He said a phrase, another one, then he sat down to catch a breath. In a minute he was dead on the ground.
It is difficult with the rails. They weigh hell. More than a week we are dragging fucking rails. Paving railways exhaust you physically and morally. We can’t speak so fucking abused we are. We receive soup and bread. As far as I know, those who work on railway receive more food but it is a poor consolation.
Moral sickening makes you careless to all. You don’t pay any attention if someone falls dead. You just take him aside from the walk letting him die in calm. The dog forgot about his dog. We don’t cry anymore. We don’t laugh. We don’t speak much. We just watch and drag. From time to time you seek for an opportunity to kill yourself. Anyway you will die. So what is difference?
The thing is that you are so exhausted that first of all you want to lay down and sleep a bit. If you wake up (not everyone wakes up especially if they are more than three years here) you are so determined anymore. Besides, it is a silent dream of everyone to die sleeping. No pain. No suffer. No consciousness. A pure serenity.
Another one from the brigade got pinned under the rail. There is calcium deficit in our bones. He didn’t suffer long. Just breathed out. Envy.





























JACK

I conceive myself a human being again and again when it starts hurting.
A forgotten outlaw said - We are beloved children if we behave in accord with the needs of the system and do so without showing signs of stress.

June, 25

‘First of all, what is wrong with that exorcist?’
He was looking into papers in front of him.
‘What do you mean? It is a will.’
‘Oh,’ he nodded. ‘Now I see, last will. Isn’t that strange?’ He glanced at me.
‘The will is strange but he has a right.’
‘Ok,’ he marked something with his pencil. ‘You see, they sent me back the petition to check whether it is alright or ... If he willed something like “let me talk my message on the radio” they would deny and he would be just electrocuted, but this one seems strange. That is why they ask.’
‘It is the first time I write a petition like that.’
‘I see, so I send it back to them for approval. From my side it is ok. Hanging shouldn’t be a great piece of trouble?’
‘They say it’s been some accidents.’
A horizontal beam support cracked and a man fell down and busted his head open and broke his neck.  There have been several cases, but I never cared cause my default method has mostly been the chair.
‘Been some, but as far as I know there is new equipment installed, a reliable one. According to Alex’ report for last two months we have hung twenty five men. Something like that, don’t remember the figures.’
‘Next week?’
‘If they approve…but anyway yes, next week, whether you hang him and roast you do it next week.’
Long live Hank!
‘You say a free weekend.’
‘This I could tell you over the phone.’
I became a little alarmed.
He looked at me.
‘Have you heard something about Vincent Oakman?’
I negatively shook my head.
‘Do you read news? Watch TV?’
‘No, don’t need them.’
‘Doesn’t matter. The man busted a number of people including serious officials. The case is the highest-profile case, man, I should say. The magister called me to prepare the execution in a proper way. Jack, he never talks like that but if he talks like that it means something.’
Such speeches make me nervous. They will be asking, calling, questioning and recording everything. I hope that the last point won’t be the case.
‘Hank, Alex reports show I am not the best choice for high profile cases.’
‘A week ago the magister assigned Marshall to get that one executed. It is a common knowledge Marshall is a flagship. Top of the line. He was born for such cases. If Marshall executes Devil itself takes a place in the first row.’
‘I know Marshall. Old school. How old is he? 75?’
‘You’d better say how old he was.’
‘Was?’
‘Was, Jack. Otherwise why are you here?’
‘What happened?’
Marshall was a flagship as Hank it said right. I hadn’t been born yet when he started executing people. I don’t know his stats and it is better not to. Last ten years he worked only with high profile cases. That is a case in three months. He earned his glory, his position and privileges. No one would say a word if he just stabbed someone to death with a dull knife. 
‘He visited that guy. A VIP-suit, an army of wardens. The day after he had a heart attack. That is why I was called and informed about necessity to find a substitution.’
‘So, You chose me, a worst ranked basing on the reports.’
‘No, that doesn’t function. Don’t even try that.’
‘Let Alex do the job.’
‘Stop it. He makes these reports. Do you want to make reports?’
‘No’
‘That is I talk about. No one wants to be an Alex.’
‘He is a jerk and his work is being a jerk, that is why no one wants.’
‘It is not about that now.’
‘Ok, if not Alex than someone else, Freddy or;’
‘No, Jack!’ He shouted. ‘You do that!’
‘The exorcist,’ I took out my trump card off the pack. ‘No parallel cases! I should prepare for hanging.’
His stare gave me a sign. His red face gave me another one.
He turned to the window again. He does that every time if doesn’t have a high weighted argument.
‘Firstly, they are all busy like you. Freddy has two parallel cases as well. From now on, you can definitely forget about “no parallel cases”. Secondly, you are right, the reports say I would better ask someone else, it would be better, but;’
He was searching for words.
‘You see,’ he stood up suddenly from the chair. ‘You are an executioner, not a murderer. That is what I respect. I killed people and I executed them. There is a difference.’
He sat down again.
‘The reports. So far you don’t destroy statistics at all, I turn a blind eye. There are rare ones who show respect. That is why I prefer to ask you than anyone here. Besides, you came here from the army not from the state police. The case has resonated, too many officials are dead, that is why we got to be ready for drastic effects followed.’
‘Looks like I have to check the belts.’
‘Looks like you are going to get a new friend.’
I remembered the porn king’s story told by Paul.
‘The shadow man?’
He nodded.
‘Strictly speaking you can do to that exorcist anything you want, no one would care. This guy has made a devilish mess. He is the number one.‘
‘Wednesday you may visit him but still no date available. They are lingering.’
‘Pressing is high?’
‘Yeah. One more thing, Jack. From now on mind your language. Watch everything you talk, where you talk, and who you talk to. You have no friends and companions till that fella gets executed.’
A couple of years ago one man talked about the shadow man. That one has no personality, he got no face, no identity. No one heard anything about him. If someone did - they are likely dead. Never try to ask questions concerning that one. He is a shadow. It goes without saying that no one knows whether the shadow man is an only one or there are many of them.
‘Is the shadow man just for heavyweights?’
Hank shrugged his shoulders.
‘No clue. All I know is it means that you got under control for some reason and you should worry about your tomorrow. I proceed from the assumption that you will be shadowed cause the case is a true heavy weight. As for the exorcist I will call you and inform as of date and hanging.’
‘Ok, so I am waiting.’
‘Take care, Jack. It is a serious game.’
I nodded and stood up. Something deep in me says that I am too suppressed to resist a heavy pressure.
‘As a matter of fact, Hank, did you know that between arrest and execution there are just ten days?’
A Hank’s cautious look.
‘I know.’
‘I mean, aren’t you afraid once you don’t come home?’
‘What do you want me to say?’ he sounded reproachfully.
‘Nothing. It is just cruel. We all deserve a farewell.’
He lingered. Taking into consideration the context we have to deal with I have to admit that the question is redundant if not stupid.
‘Take care, Jack’ he said.
Sitting down in the canteen I were calculating thoroughly what would expect me. You don’t know a man at all but you have to accept consequences of just having to deal with him. As if they test you trying to define your personal limit, your ability to resist the stress. 
Once I heard a presumption – what would you do if you were to execute yourself.
The idea is that you are an executor so you must execute. At the same time you are sentenced. On the one hand if you are sentenced you are suspended. It is officially. On the other hand, what is ethically, shouldn’t you do your job?
The answer seems to be obvious  - no. The presumption has a sense because the regime makes you do the job. Thus, you are supposed to commit a legal suicide. They can make with an official paper or they just press you till you are done. You get an opportunity and you’d better use it.
Once I turn around and see a certain man following me. He is looking at me, right into my eyes, but he got neither eyes nor face. That man was absolutely right – the regime’s shadow. You don’t need see his face, or know him. The message he bears is that you has drawn the regime’s attention to your humble self. Be aware, be conscious, mind your personality and value exactly what your self means if it means at all.
I stared at an empty dish after I have finished my lunch. Not pretty sure how long I had been staring but I couldn’t remember what I had eaten.
The regime is everywhere. Your meal doesn’t taste if they don’t want it to.
I need to die in madness. But it is going to be later. Now, I’d better visit the swan lake park. They have ducks there.
Miss Delafou seems to be an only person now I can talk about things apart from executions and dark men. Honestly, I am not sure if I find her there. The only I know that she spends her time there from time to time, but whether she is going to be there today or not…
The swan lake park is embodiment of tranquility and stability the regime gives us. The swan lake and numerous benches around it. People sit there contemplating their hours in full calmness. More than half of the benches are free. The ducks are not so popular and attractive as midgets.
The trees. For a while it seems that there is no regime at all, just forest with lake in the middle of it. No hustle. No crowds. No screens. No digital rolling tickers. Strange but the park is quite badly covered by cameras. There are some on the entries. Thus you can sit here without being surveilled. Strange but true. Such an omission. Sure, it is just a matter of time.
I did a round and spent a half an hour watching ducks. As a matter of fact, it wasn’t tedious. Its tranquility is devouring both your and time. Such a contrast to the outer space. Why have I never been here before?
It was growing dark when I saw Miss Delafou. She saw me and came up to.
‘I don’t remember you being here.’
‘You are right, I am not a frequent visitor here.’
She sat down next to me.
‘You look better.’
‘You think so?’
‘Still…it leaves some to be desired but anyway better than that evening.’
‘Glad to hear that, fresh air must be doing good to me.’
A pause. You must be familiar with situation when there is really nothing to tell but it demands some words. So, I decided to act.
‘What is about the kids? Have they chosen something?’
She looked at me thoughtfully.
‘Kids? Oh, kids,’ She remembered. ‘No, I don’t know though, but some of them seem to have some clear ideas.’
‘Executing?’
‘Oh no! please! Everything else but executing.’
‘I bet I am a high point.’
She smiled.
‘Somehow…but of course you are master in betting, aren’t you?’
‘Got some experience to share.’
‘Do you a frequent guest there?’
‘I would say, more frequent than here.’
‘Why?’
It wouldn’t be that easy to go deep into explanations what makes me be a frequent guest there.
‘Stress relief’
‘Does it work?’
‘From time to time. If you take the same pill all the time sooner or later you get to take more or change to something else.’
She took out a solid piece of bread of the bag. Broke off a piece and gave it to me.
‘Try that.’
Then she start breaking off small crumbles and throwing them to ducks into the water. Ducks were rushing to them tripping over one another. It was always getting quite noisy. She looked at me again.
‘Try that.’
I broke off a piece and threw to the ducks. They didn’t give a chance to the piece. It disappeared in a wink.
‘Are they so hungry?’
‘No,’ She said. ‘They are regularly nourished here but as you see they don’t mind to have a little bit more.’
If you are regularly paid a good salary you wouldn’t refuse a sudden present fallen from the above.

‘Like people. You might have given names to them.’
‘I can tell you, that I know them all, but names…I am not that far. Somehow, they know me as well. If I come they swim to me.’
‘You don’t have to mind your language with them. Think what you wish, talk what you wish. Maybe, if we hadn’t given names we wouldn’t have had to mind language. Quite a task would you have to compromise a certain who had no name.’
Even here, with the ducks and Miss Delafou, Vincent flashed through my head. I can’t help but thinking about him. Too much pressure is on me due to this man.
‘Do you come here every day?’ I asked her
‘No, but I am a frequent guest. This place is a safe haven.’
‘No cameras?’
She is hesitating. I am a state executioner. She must regret mentioning cameras.
‘Don’t be afraid, I don’t like cameras as well. However, I didn’t know that they are so rare here.’
She is nourishing the ducks and hesitating to ask something. At least, it seems so.
‘You might be hesitating to ask me something?’
‘Why?’
‘looks like.’
‘Not at all,’ She said. ‘But…do you like your job?’
‘Are you serious? If I relieve stress by betting?’
She smiled.
‘Yeah, I should have guessed.’
It is growing dark and her hesitation looks like growing as well. I reacted.
‘Miss Delafou;’
‘Joy’
‘Ok, Joy, would you like a bit whiskey?’
She looked at me a bit worried.
‘Whiskey?’
‘Yes,’ I took two small bottles 100 ml each out of the pocket.
She rounded up her eyes.
‘I am not an alcoholic, but now it would be ok.’
She reached her arm.
‘Ok, let’s have a bit.’
I stuck somehow but gave her one. She took. It didn’t last a while how the both bottles got emptied.
‘Now, Joy, tell me what makes you be here a frequent guest? Alone.’
‘It is not easy for me to live like people live here. It is just so heavy.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘I had a boyfriend, if you like. He was as usual as anyone else, but he was arrested.’
I thought that I could execute him. Freddy could. Every one of us could, but I would hate to be the one who executed him.
‘I am not sure whether he was executed or…or not.’
‘If he wasn’t executed he is in a labor camp.’
She looked at me anxiously.
‘What are they doing there?’
‘Honestly, I don’t know. They do some work like building something.’
‘Are conditions bad there?’
How should I ask that question? The conditions there are not bad, they are true hell. She had better asked me something else. Maybe, it is whiskey.
‘Not good, they leave much to be desired, but still not fully bad.’
I couldn’t tell her that people don’t usually work there more than five years because they die or get free. If he hasn’t come home yet, I am afraid he never comes back anymore.
‘What do you know about his punishment?’
‘Nothing. They just took him and;’
‘Tell me his name, I make inquiries about him.’
‘But if he is dead.’
‘If he is dead;anyway you will know that for sure. It is better than to stay unaware.’
She nodded.
Now I don’t have any idea how to act. She is worried about her boyfriend who disappeared somewhere in the executional system and me…I am a part of that system. Moreover I could execute that one. It would be a fucking Shakespearian tragedy.
‘Winston Burton.’
‘I will make inquiries.’
‘Thanks, Jack. You don’t know me well but you help.’
‘I hope I can help, but unfortunately I can’t guarantee that. Especially now.’
‘Especially?’
‘It is a top secret, I can’t say, but be sure I will try.’
It is true! Especially now. They will cover my every step. Hank warned me to be careful and the first thing I do is to dig through our archives. I should say, that it can arouse suspicion. It is not welcomed if someone tries to dig something out…especially now. Thanks to Vincent Oakman I am tied up as never before.
‘Whatever, Jack, I am very grateful to you.’
‘Would you like to walk a bit.’
She nodded. We stood up and walked away from the park. She talked me a bit about her childhood here. How her family spent time in the park. Their trips into the forest area. Where the river flows. Born and raised in calmness she never felt much impressed by a night city’s lights  but she worked there and would move into some small town somewhere far from the city, but the regime is…it is understandable.
‘How did you happen to become an executioner?’
Somehow I needed a couple of minutes to remember how I happened to become an executioner.
‘I left the army. I belonged to the state safety. The structure therein is so complicated that I really didn’t understand much where I belonged to in that structure, but somehow I was recommended into the law enforcement system. I did my job for a couple of years and then changed to execution. It is a usual path, there is nothing extraordinary. A common career.’
‘Why don’t you change somewhere if you don’t like it?’
‘Because the whole system is a problem. Wherever you go…wherever I go I will hate all that, but it is the regime…I am not just a state officer, it is the law enforcement, you can’t just leave. First of all it is a certain level of sensitivity and then refusal to render service is treated like a sort of treason.’
‘It means you are doomed?’
‘There are three ways out. Retirement, but it looks like I die before I retire. Then, refusal, what is the chair or a labor camp, and…runaway.’
Anxious look.
‘Serious?’
I would ask if it would be possible…
‘Is it possible?’
She didn’t answer. Really no need to answer…no answer exists.
‘Would you flee?’ I asked her.
The question seemed to be provoking. Could she trust me so much to answer such a question…if she knew me for… a couple of hours?
She couldn’t hide her hesitation so I had to step first.
‘Don’t be afraid. I am the worst state servant you have ever faced.’
‘Worse than me?’
Anyway she got a sense of humor.
‘So, would you?’
‘I would, but where…and how?’
We took the bus. We didn’t talk much but it wasn’t that necessary.
She enjoys time with kids but it is not that so easy as earlier –  every new generation is absorbing the regime a little bit earlier. Their parents become more careful and make sure their kids mind their language. A tranquil evening powered by whiskey. It couldn’t get better.
The bus was nearing my station and I had to go. I stood up.
‘So, I have to go.’
‘Usually I don’t drink whiskey,’ The last word she has barely whispered.
The bus stopped and the doors went open.
‘Thank you!’
‘Where the river flows.’
‘River?’
Stepping out from the bus I said:
‘You asked where and how.’
The doors closed. The bus started. I was looking at her thru the window. She was looking at me as well. Serious and worried.
You look for an escape from the life you have to live. However, you are enslaved by your nature. There is no escape. Evolution made us cowards and conformists. It is said the strongest survives. Conformists survive. if suddenly you can’t accept uncertainty rises. You feel so frustrated that any possible change you take for an escape. Wherever you flee you unwillingly take yourself as a companion. That is why you get never relieved no matter what you undertake.  That is why you take any opportunity to change something despite the fact that you don’t need that. In the end you get what you don’t want. The grave is getting deeper. You have to be a conformist and live the life you are given. Kill the rebel inside.
Do I need her or I am just looking for a change that I don’t really need?















INTERROGATION

‘Strictly speaking, it is a breach of the manifest.’
‘First of all, sirs, let’s identify something, do we mean the manifest as a precondition for an absolute democracy?’
‘I would say, the manifest is the only guidance to follow and sure it is democracy as we understand it.’
‘Do you know something about The Weimar Republic?’
‘Germany after the first world war, sure we know.’
‘It was a democracy with a quite liberal constitution as a guidance if you like.’
General stopped for a while as if giving the interviewers time to digest the message.
‘I see you don’t get what I mean. Do you know something about Hitler?’ He paused. ‘It is kind of rhetorical question. You know. I mean that The Weimar Republic made a fertile ground for Hitler and his rise to power. It is a good example for you to understand why democracy is first of all hard to achieve, then hard to maintain and finally is a dubious way to rule a state. Thus, I mean an illustration.’
He turned to the secretary to make sure she typewrites the last word.
‘The referendum. We declare a spy undermining national security a criminal and the court imposes a death punishment. Then, according to the manifest people vote. Death or not. They surely don’t have a clue about real damage this one has done. They don’t have the slightest understanding of consequences of what this one has done. For their liberal views he is just a criminal deserving a punishment but surely not a death. People aren’t cognizant about mistakes they do acting with sympathy and out of merciful considerations. Strictly speaking, they aren’t experts and poor strategists. The same is valid for highly important economic and political decisions which didn’t use to be popular due to their rigorousness. As you see, don’t let narrow-mindedness rule a state. That is why national financial elite, banks and industry would rather take over the regulation keeping the masses away from it.’
‘If the masses, as you say it, are kept away, it is not a democracy anymore.’
‘Right you are. That is why the referendum was cancelled. The referendum drastically lowered the quality of decisions taken. Lack of prudence and far-sightedness.’
‘But legal system known as the law enforcement became the tool of genocide. People were executed every day for any fault. Someone just considered them guilty of crimes of the highest order. It is a pure form of genocide.’
‘For the national security’s sake. Besides, sirs, show me the difference between the highest civilization and the highest barbarity and I answer your question. The one follows and precedes the other. And vice versa.’ He smiled.

ALARIC

De rebelli:
Wrath of the mass disparaged is growing till the moment it bursts. Like a natural disaster a mass wrath considers neither excuses nor sympathy nor mercy.

June, 26

The last one got out from the sewer channel and they closed the hatch. 
‘Social department?’ Karl asked Alaric.
‘Yes, this one is split to numerous smaller departments. One of them elaborates tools and methods to influence human opinion.’
Riki looked around. It was dark and deserted. Not a soul was seen.
Alaric continued explaining.
‘Generally there is only one tool. Fucking brainwashing. That is why sooner or later we officially become animals.’
‘Because of this man?’ Karl asked.
‘He is involved but the chain is long enough. Unfortunately we can’t kill them all. Surgical strikes is the best what we can afford. So, our task is to hit where it hurts them the most. It is all we can but we can it better than anyone.’
They were seven with Alaric in the head following through the shadows covering the dark streets. The city was sleeping. There were lights in the windows but mostly just black holes splattered over buildings’ walls. 
Having reached a park zone they stopped in a tree shadow.  Alaric whistled. For a minute they just waited under the tree in dark tranquility for the eighth who had been keeping an eye for a certain man and a certain maiden in a certain house.
‘They are in,’ suddenly someone said. Everybody turned to him. Nutt appeared from nowhere. Unheard and unseen.
One store villa with the pool, neon illumination and smart home system controlling every door, window, electricity and so on. It can’t be too hot or too cold there. The air inside can’t be stuffy. If you burn a steak the AI worries about it while you are taking a bath but…while you are taking a bath the AI can’t miss a moment and burn the steak cause the AI knows better how to make a good steak.
‘It is fantastically designed.’
‘How long are they inside?’
‘An hour.’
‘Already in process?’
‘Think so.’
They all were staying in the dark and watching the super technological house.
There was no excitement in their eyes.
Revenge. Vengeance. Hatred. And cold blood.
‘This one,’ Alaric said. ‘Is one of the founders of the idea of the freak show, of the midget circus. He promoted the idea and converted it into reality. There are an army of them – lobbyists, promoters, marketers and other crap. But this one is a special thing. He is not just a founder of the idea. He is the one who is going to officially degrade us to animals.’
He stepped out of the shadow and directed to the house. The others followed him.
‘A freak show,’ he continued. ‘Ugliness, deformities, any physical defect. People like it and never spare money for that. That means the decline. Moral. Physical. It is getting obsolete. They have prospered and now they are at the point when there is no moving ahead possible. It is time for revolution. Any revolution takes its toll. Costs. Lives. Someone has to die.’
They reached the house. Nutt touched the wall.
‘Warm. It takes warmth from outside and transmits it into the inside.’
Alaric tapped him on the shoulder.
‘It is gonna be hot,’ and smiled sarcastically.
The glass door to the pool was open. They entered the house. There was an opened bottle of wine on the table. Two glasses. The remote control, keys and a wallet.
Nutt took the remote control from the table and blocked the windows.
‘I have seen such controls. They are quite easy to use.’
The windows, which were opened, closed. So quiet. Slow.
Four midgets left in the guest room. Alaric and three more headed to the bed room where their target with his lover were supposed to be. So, they were there.
When Alaric rolled out the door Charles, their target, was already putting on his bathrobe. He heard them stepping and was preparing to meet uninvited guests. However he had nothing to defend himself with.
He considered his house a castle. It was…

…but from time to time he missed some details. He could be too tired, too distracted, too careless but no one would dare to intrude his house cause it was too sensitive to left someone unnoticed. The cameras. They controlled everything and reacted on any movement…unless they were off.
Why?
Cause Charles was married and consequently had much to lose. That was why last two days those cameras were out of service due to “some server faults” – formulation prepared for his wife if she would have questions about the cameras. It wasn’t the first time when servers went down but this time it turned out to be lethal for Charles.
 
‘A moral decline,’ Alaric said. ‘Is a path to an abyss. Sooner or later we pay.’
Having seen them Charles thought that he would just beat a shit out of those midgets and get them arrested but he undepreciated Alaric.
Charles came up to him was going to hit Alaric against his head but he managed only to swing his arm.
Alaric was lightning fast. He flashed a step forward and grabbed Charles’ balls. He pressed them as hard as he could but not too much not to destroy them. He needed still Charles’ attention.
Charles screamed as he had never screamed before. His lover rounded up her eyes and pressed the palm against the mouth being scared to death. She was about to faint but somehow was still conscious.
‘Charles!’ Alaric resented. ‘Why is it so fucking hard to be diplomatic? If you think that we are just animals as you want us to be it doesn’t mean that…anyway, for you to know, I am able to bow a steel stab. Not sure your balls are harder. If you make another attempt I will smash them and wring off. Crystal?’
Charles nodded.
Alaric quitted hold.
‘So, Charles? Why are we subhumans?’
Charles was still moaning. Alaric really hard gripped him.
‘It was…a…mistake,’ he moaned. ‘It is…news…papers;’
‘So, it is not thru your fault?’
‘Right’
‘But they quoted you. Your words were in inverted commas, as if you said that.’
‘Not quite that, I didn’t mean, misunderstood.’
‘Misunderstood! And your speech in the government there also misunderstood?’
‘I didn’t mean, please;’
‘Stop!’ Alaric roared. ‘You all say “please’! you all! You all are begging, moaning and pleasing! Fuck it! Too late, Charles. It is not chance what is happening here, it is already an execution. We have our laws and our own procedures. We got no chair but still we have something to offer. And you darling,’ Alaric addressed the girl in the bed. ‘Bad news for you, you have to follow this prick,’ - he stamped Charles against the head.
She howled.
‘Please!’
Alaric looked at his guys.
‘You see, it is inevitably comes to “please”.’
He nodded to one of them and that left the room.
‘So, Charles, when in Rome do as the roman do. I just mentioned Rome. The ancient Rome. Why? Rome once prospered, then fell into a permanent decline. They did things which they would have never done before. They just started degrading morally and socially. Then came the barbarians. The rest you know.’
The girl tried to break through them into the door. Everyone underrates midgets. They suppressed her intentions in a quite tough way by breaking her arm and nose.
Charles just looked at her but undertook nothing.
‘Please,’  he moaned. ‘Not so rough, she is just a girl!’
Alaric smiled.
‘Just a girl? No matter who, a girl, a man, a child, an oldie…all of them are throwing tomatoes in us, all of them were in ecstasy when the bear gnawed Nobel. You see, we all equal when it comes to pain or death. No gender and, please, no please. ‘
While he was speaking. The others distributed flammable stuff around the house and deactivated fire protection.
‘It is a decline. Enjoying watching genetically handicapped people entertaining you, degrading them, maltreating and of course feeding them to a bear is an extreme sign of a tremendous moral decline. To awaken we need a reaction. A cruel reaction.’
‘Ready!’ said Nutt.
‘Windows? Doors?’
‘Sure.’
Alaric nodded.
‘Lead people out.’
Nutt left.
‘Please!’ moaned Charles.
‘No, Charles. You had time for the last words but you were just moaning,’ he looked at the girl.
She was sniffling and begging for letting her go. She was fully in blood. Her nose broken.
‘Sure, darling,’ Alaric said. ‘Now I am leaving, then you can leave as well.’
Hope flashed in her eyes. Alaric smiled.
‘Just wait, a moment, darling. And you,’ he grabbed Charles at his ear. ‘A midget’s face is the last you see, a midget’s will is the last you hear,’ - and pulled his ear so rough that the skin cracked.
Charles screamed again. He brought the palm to his ear. Blood covered his face squeezed to the floor. Alaric left.
Before blocking the windows and doors Nutt set the flammable stuff in the guest room on fire. It was a flash. He quickly left the house.
Click of the blocked doors. The bid glass doors. The panoramic windows.
‘A good view.’
Smoke filled the house. In a minute Charles and the girl appeared at the doors and tried to open them. they were shouting, pushing, crying, pulling...
‘The human find a group of handicapped saving their lives out of bear’s claws a spectacular show. It is profitable. They like it. It entertains them. They bring their children to enjoy a midget being eaten. A freak show. They like to maltreat. They like watching it. They take pleasure.’
Charles tried to break the glass with a stool but that glass wasn’t supposed to be broken even by a bullet.
‘They have been building their castle so long and painstaking and hope to break it in seconds. We see a decline. It is a reaction. Our reaction. The barbarians came and changed the order. So do we.’
The fire engulfed the house in seconds.
‘As you said, Nutt. It is highly technological house. It lets no warmth outside. It looks like it is warm there.’
They were watching Charles and the girl pressing themselves at the glass doors. The pool full of water just in a few meters. Somehow they hoped to be let out. Looking right into midgets eyes. Begging in their glances.
‘Hope, they always hope, they always say “please”.’











JACK

Freedom - a magic word attracting people’s attention. For them it is an efficient tool serving their needs. It is efficient because of its natural subjectivity.

June, 27

In the morning I found another letter:
PARTICIPATED IN INTERROGATIONS? YOU COME HOME AND DON’T SEE YOU FAMILY ANYMORE. YOU GOT NO WORK ANYMORE. YOU ARE STIGMATIZED. NO FUTURE.
SLAVERY. YOU GOT TO PAY. IF NO WORK YOU ARE IN DEBT. YOU HAVE TO PAY YOURSELF OUT. FOR YEARS. HUMAN MORTGAGE. IN FIVE YEARS YOU ARE A RAG.
STILL ON THE RIGHT SIDE?
There was no black dust on the paper. I have read the message and immediately proceeded in a proven way – to burn down and to wash down. No ashes. No traces.
I am further leaning toward the supposition that the anonym is coming from the underground. This one has got through the camp and no other choice but the underground. Ull said that they are doomed to eternal payout.
The whole life I have been cultivating a certain carelessness in me to stay hard and pay no attention to human bondage. Now I am facing a desperate attempt to persuade me to care. I am deafened. The guys want me to hear them but they had better be cautious. I am shadowed. I would be really glad about that cause then I had to answer a couple of unpleasant questions. Somehow I start worrying about them as if I would keep them away from the problems they are drugging me into.
Today I am going to visit a man they want me to look like. The guy must be a tough one if he got a suit in Block C.
I have never been to Block C - a jail inside of a jail designed for high profile prisoners sentenced to death. The most quiet place in the state. No one has ever heard a sound from there. A dead place. Being there means immersing into contemplation of death. If you are sentenced to death there is no place in your head for any thoughts but of death.
The entry is approved only for an investigator, executioner, prison chief, security chief and guard team which brings him in or out. Every interrogation is recorded by cameras.
The guard chief looked at me, my entry card and the paper he held in his hand.
‘You follow me.’
I followed. This block has been built for resisting the hell army. Tens of battle tanks and an army wouldn’t be enough to make that building and that guard team surrender. In this state nothing is as guarded as Block C.
‘Do you know instruction?’
‘I know the instruction.’
‘I must ask you, sir, if you are a sworn state executioner.’
I forgot that once I swore an oath.
‘Yes, I am a sworn state executioner.’
He stared at me some seconds then nodded.
‘You come into the cell. If you suddenly need a help you call the warden positioned right behind the door.’
I nodded.
He opened the door and I came in.
There is a cage inside with chair and table in front of it.  I looked around the cell. I would rather die than be put here. You don’t really need to execute someone who is kept here. Execution  might be a release for them.
Vincent Oakman is right opposite me. A usual man of average height, average width with absolutely average face. I would say - a common office clerk. Black hair, brown eyes, intelligent glance. You would forget such a common man the moment he just left your side. No matter how long have you both talk. He is everything else but memorable one.
Nothing what would make a beast out of him.
‘Vincent?’
I didn’t want to be too official. Informality brings more. Be on the same level. Speak the same language.
‘I am. You must be an executioner?’
‘I am. You must be warned?’
He grinned.
‘They get never tired warning me. But you are kind of a special man.’
‘Why?’
‘As far as I get you are supposed to be the last whose face I see.’
‘You know better. Honestly, I wasn’t supposed to be special.’
‘I heard. Marshall died.’
‘Heart attack.’
‘We could have passed away together but he couldn’t wait.’
I didn’t expect that he would be so talkative.
‘It is quite depressive here,’ I am looking around.
‘It is not that cage that is the worst.’
‘Expectation of punishment?’
He is investigating me. The way I am sitting, moving, speaking. At least, it looked like that. He made an impression of being a highly attentive man.
‘Not at all. It is not expectation. I have spent here a week and whoever I talked to was talking as if declaiming an instruction,’ he nodded towards the camera over us. ‘It an open talk that I am lacking.’
‘I would lack the same.’
‘You would, sure.’
According to the dossier he organized a row of terroristic attacks.
‘It looks like too tight here.’
‘You observe details. If you helped me to move in nature I would be much obliged.’
Five attacks. He managed to blow up a dozen of heavyweights and forty four people above. He got a sense of humor.
‘It is good that you are still capable of having fun. I am Jack, if you like.’
‘Human is a rare guest here. Why not to have fun, Jack?’
‘Conventionally, people don’t have fun with me.’
‘I see we can have a talk. It is more than enough here. Besides, if you are already here it means the day is coming.’
They found two more bombs prepared in his house. He might have planned some attacks supposed to provide greater effects than previous ones if considered their potential explosive power.
‘You are a good observer. The day is coming, right you are. You know, I have never executed high profile cases like yours. They are very excited out there.’
‘You become high profile if you act high profile.’
‘You mean you earned it?’
‘Strictly speaking, my performance coefficient leaves a lot to be desired.’
I can’t say much what I would if not that camera over me. I have to mind.
‘You made some noise. I executed more than hundred men. Much more. But no one of them managed to kill as many heavyweights as you did. I am not supposed to talk that but I guess you have gone far enough to hear that.’
He was slowly shaking his head.
‘I got what you mean, do you feel devoted much to your job?’
‘It helps me keep adrift. Apart from it, it is not that easy as it seems to be. Some sleep issues.’
‘Sorry, if provoked. You see, I proceed on the assumption that you execute me. It is a pretty intimate process. So, I would like to know you better. Qualms of conscience?’
Another demon is coming. My army is growing wide.
‘No. Just stressed. However, I am supposed to ask you about your last will.’
‘It is a good theme to talk,’ he looked excited to a certain extent.
‘So, ideas?’
‘What is usually wished?’
I leaned back and tried to remember. A few days ago I already had to remember some when talking to Iacobus.
‘Some want to have a good meal. There was a guy who asked to jerk him off. Some wanted to see their moms, wives and so on. This week, a condemned asked for being hanged.’
He got a bit darker.
‘What do these bastards do to us, Jack?’
‘What do you mean?’
‘My mom is not good now, my ex wife is destroyed mentally,’ he spoke slow and kind of heavy. ‘They destroy our lives and the worst they make us suffer is that last mom’s glance in the fucking cell. She must realize that her child is going to be hanged. What is she going to feel? What is he going to feel? That is why I don’t regret what I have done.’
‘They don’t believe you acted alone’
‘And you? Do you believe?’
‘To tell the truth I didn’t become absorbed in the dossier, but…I am not quite sure you could do it alone. I am an executioner, not an investigator. My task is a bit different.’
‘What makes you believe I couldn’t do it alone?’
‘The scale is large enough to act alone.’
We looked into each other’s eyes. Sort of careful speaking like feeling each other out. Moreover you have to mind that all what is said is being recorded. Beware of yourself.
‘I see, so what did you say about last will?’
‘The law says you got a right to have one.’
‘Gracious’
‘It is but it reserves the right not to uphold it.’
‘Ha-ha, this is more like it. Many refusals?’
I though a bit, looked up at the ceiling.
‘It depends. A pizza wouldn’t be a trouble as well as a book to read but I am not sure about a free day out.’
‘If you were here, what would you wish?
I have never heard such a question. It is a question to rack my brains. I don’t know. I didn’t spend a day alone in a cage like this so I can’t really imagine what I would wish. I have heard many of them but as for me personally…no idea.
‘No idea. If I had to…me…it would be a day out and overdose in the end.’
‘But you are denied.’
He was staring at me in expectance.
‘Then a couple of pizzas and a couple of whiskey bottles.’
‘They would agree?’
‘I guess yes for pizzas and no for whiskey.’
I shook my head no. I thought of Joy, but we aren’t close so far to oblige to come here in that place to observe a sentenced one. This last glance. What for? It wouldn’t do good neither for her nor for me. I consider dying alone is a better choice. Then, I mind the camera.
‘So, your will?’
‘Let me sleep it over.’
‘Do you think you have an opportunity?’
‘I do’.
‘I am not sure. They are ready to kill you without your will as well.’
He lingered with answer. Some self-confidence is to feel. As a matter of fact I met such guys who were sure that they were greater than the regime but…no happy end. Don’t know how it used to be handled with high profiles but something inside of me says it is all the same.
‘You are a smart guy,’ I said. ‘But the regime is like an asphalt-spreading machine. All what gets under is condemned.’
‘You are right, Jack. They both have the same trait that makes them vulnerable.’
‘Reveal me this secret.’
‘They both are run by humans. The regime. Any ideas why we all hate that regime?’ He looked at the camera and raise a hand to greet them. ‘Why is that regime like a heartless machine? Why is it so antihuman?’
I don’t have to answer. He is getting angry but somehow it looks like he is controlling himself as if he played for the camera.
‘The fascism is the best example. What do they say about fascism? It is a purely negative phenomenon, isn’t it? But in essence, it is one of the best regimes to respond effectively to economic difficulties. Its main aim is stable society with a stable economy. It is a mixed economy, it is all about national economic self-sufficiency. The only problem is those who advocate this regime. I mean humans. If you ask, a human’s main enemy is a human. That is our problem, Jack. the regime itself is not that bad apart some moments which are to be eliminated, but they were implied by the authorities. You see, the authorities is the problem, not the regime.’
He made a pause for some time.
‘I got what you mean as of the machine and the regime, but why should they linger with sentencing you?’
He grinned again.
‘It is quite easy. All humans are exceedingly curious and of course they are never self-sufficient. When they are absolutely sated and cannot go on eating further what they do? They don’t stop devouring if something looks like mysterious, looks like unknown. ‘
‘And?’
‘Do you believe that I could do it alone?’
‘I am not quite sure you could do it alone.’
‘Right you are. And yet strangely enough, but this camera is going to be playing into my hands.’
‘What do you mean?
‘I don’t know you well enough, but somehow it seems to me you are not a bad one.’
He couldn’t say better to compromise me.
‘Thus, everyone is exceedingly curious, especially the state security and investigation, who helped me to organize the attacks. It might be a group.’
‘I think I am getting what you are willing. But what is that for? you are just postponing the inevitable.’
‘I still have a right to will something. What if my will is to play a bit? As you see…I will say to you who cooperated, but the next time and with the camera off. It is a precondition. They would agree, because they will surely kill me but the team is still alive.’
‘Chess?’
He grinned.
‘Before I have never played a negotiator. I guess they have already heard you so I don’t have to transmit your conditions, but hope I visit you again.’
‘I hope so.’
I closed the dossier and stood up from my chair. I have barely knocked the door how it went open. The warden acted like true watches.
After I have left the prison I dialed up Hank.
‘Just right from Vincent.’
‘And?’
He wasn’t still informed.
‘Believe, they will inform you.’
A heavy inhale on his side.
‘What happened?’
‘Nothing to worry about, Hank. He wants to negotiate.’
‘Negotiate? What do you mean?’
‘He is ready to name the cooperators, but he needs me as a negotiator and that camera off.’
He was stunned. He didn’t say a thing.
‘I am not sure, Hank, wouldn’t they inform you about that? What would the magister say?’
‘I…as you…Jack, I don’t know what he decides. The question is whether they would believe him, I mean.’
‘Whether he is really ready to say?’
‘Or just delaying? I will inform you about the decision, but I tend to think that…mmm…no idea.’
‘Sure, Bye.’
I made a deep inhale. Everything you need to be happy is sure just a freedom. I believe everyone should spend a week in a cell to understand that. It makes you appreciate freedom. Even if you have to live in the conditions we live in…you get that. You feel that. A cell can change your relation to life. Just a cell. Just those for walls with a grid in the window. You will love rains, you will love everything you have never loved before. Freedom is so essential, is so invisible.
I stopped in a local caf; to have a snack.
Pommes frites and a burger with solid piece of meat is the best choice. It is always about simplicity when talking of good things. Anything extra. Anything more than you need. Beer isn’t my drink. That is why I ask for a cup of tea. All that we really need is simple and just given to you. No charges. Just given.
If I leave another cell after having conversed to another sentenced one any burger I take tastes the best. And it is not a burger that tastes it is a freedom that makes it taste. To be more precise, it is a deprivation that tastes. If you experience deprivation in any form you get what I mean. Deprive yourself of freedom for a week and the day on the river will be surely the best day of your life. Deprive yourself of oxygen and you surely won’t dream on a new car, apartment, extra charges, sex, drugs and anything else.
I know what humans life costs. I can tell its price. I am everything else but sentimental and sensitive. I am a deaf man to a certain extent. I kill  twice a week and that makes me know what human’s life really costs.
It costs not much, just a decent wager that I lose.
It costs two pizzas and a glass of beer.
It costs two my visits.
It costs an amount of electricity spent for you.
Your life have the same cost like any good you take from the shelf in a shop.
Your life is the same product. Some pays for it, someone pays to abuse it. Someone pays to utilize it. It is a procedure with a certain algorithm.
We are just humans as a burger I have eaten. I paid to utilize it. To execute.
Someone is calling me. Hank. I take.
‘So?’
‘You are a negotiator. At Monday you go there to get the information. It is already arranged.’
‘Arranged?’
‘Your visit. Be ready, please.’
‘I will.’
‘The camera will be off, but the warden will be still there.’
‘Obviously.’
‘Not, it is not obviously. It is all unprecedented. What it means for you?’
‘I know.’
‘I hope so.’
It means that I am already being heard. My cell is my enemy from now on.
Why not to visit Ull and a bit whiskey? Obviously, but I have still something to do in the archive. This certain Winston Burton.
I am calling Hank.
‘What else?’
‘Hank, tomorrow I need an access to the archive.’
‘Why?’
‘Case Vincent, need some information.’
‘I call them. Tomorrow?’
‘Tomorrow, yeah.’
‘Ok, take care.’
‘Bye, Hank.’
No sense explaining who William Burton is and why I need him.
Waiting for someone coming up to me and asking whether I would like to escape from here. He would raise a certain price. It didn’t matter whether I would be able to settle the price or not. Would I trust him? The price could be my freedom. However, the point is that we wait for someone who helps us out. It never happens, but we never stop hoping. It is what distinguish us, humans – hope.
Being strapped to the chair with a bag on your head…you hope.


























PAUL

The desire to acquire more than it is necessary is the origin of an exploitative society. Taking into consideration our natural greed we are like doomed to come to exploitative society.

June, 25

‘The fat is in the fire. The pilot. In two weeks. The central stadium. Hanging.’
In reality the talk involved pretty much time, energy, arguments and so on. Levy, Maurice and me. Maurice took over a search for a person to hang and promotion. He was supposed to persuade people come and enjoy someone’s hanging. I took a ceremony – to project who, why and where.
We got two weeks. Levy asked me:
‘Why people should want to come and see someone’s execution?’
It was an out of the blue question. However I dealt with violence on a regular basis so I had a theory hidden in the pocket.
‘In bare outlines, we are crime-obsessed individuals. Psychologists establish a direct relation between violent obsession and some kind of reward like if I kill someone I will have sex and consequently orgasm.’
‘And it is normally?’ Levy.
‘Absolutely.’
‘As far as I see, after killing someone I am supposed to fuck someone as a reward, - Maurice was about to burst out laughing.’
‘Or to fuck someone I am supposed to kill someone preliminary otherwise there would be no reward and consequently it wouldn’t be alright?’ Levy said and they both finally laughed out.
I couldn’t take it seriously anymore and joined them. After a number of similar theses concerning immediate relation between bloody craving for murdering people and having sex I managed to get the talk back on relatively serious track.
I had slept quite bad before and was pretty tired to go into detailed explanation with examples and so on. I was lazy at the moment. I wanted to give a brief outline.
‘Why do we argue against murders but greet a capital punishment? People used to kill people. No matter how, legally or not. Mass killings, wars or punishments on the central squares. So, why?’
No reply.
‘We are crime-obsessed individuals. We love violence. Sure, they made experiments to know mental mechanisms better. They showed children violent films. The precondition was that films included adult modelled aggressive behaviors. In the end they came to the conclusion that adults tremendously influenced children’s behavior.’
‘They copy their manners,’ Maurice stated.
‘They see permissiveness for violence. Approved permissiveness cause adults did so. But still, it doesn’t explain why we do love violence. It is said, we carve for death. We want to see that. that is why you want to see a person run over by a car. I read about the case when a boy ejaculated after having witnessed a run over person.’
‘Oh, fuck!’ Levy exclaimed.
‘Yeah. Somehow we have to deal with idea of death. We want to know how it looks like. Levy, do you like thrillers?’
A rhetoric question.
‘That is why you want to be frightened. In primeval times we were frightened regularly. Today, we don’t have to face a beast going to eat us. We don’t have to survive but the need is still inside there. It is addictive. A sort of challenge. You want experience that horror, feel it, pull yourself through it, watch that fucking violent ferocious death happening to someone else.’
‘I don’t want to live, Paul,’ Levy said. ‘Do you have a sound sleep with these thoughts in your head?’
I nodded smiling.
‘It is my job, Levy. To crave for violence…mm…it is just our naturally born reaction.’
‘Voyeurism,’ Maurice formulated as concisely as possible.
We are the only species being sexually aroused by an act of violence.

When I watched people surging like a human sea into the gates of the stadium to witness the hanging I had just two thoughts in my head. One followed another. Chronologically and logically:
We are crime-obsessed individuals and… we are violence-obsessed voyeurs.
Then, these thoughts were followed by another:
That violence-obsessed voyeurism creates jobs, makes money and tools to control people. If we understand that nothing would be able to change the order.
Tens of thousands people demanding someone’s death. Isn’t it a craziness? Absolutely. However, it works, it unites people, it creates a good image, it makes us all feel safe and…
‘Now we see the face of the enemy,’ I said.
Levy agreed and was tremendously excited.
‘What a cash flow!’
That was right. We hoped for a success but in outcome it was a nuclear blast. People craved for death in real. They could watch it online but it feels better if there is no wall between you and death.
The execution hadn’t been carried out yet but Maurice already knew he was supposed to find another criminal to hang.
‘We don’t need to know numbers,’ Levy addressed Maurice. ‘Search for another one to hang.’
All indicated the breakthrough. We stated the theses.
People want violence. People want death. People ready to pay for that.

On the following day we all met again at Maurice.
‘What do we do next?’ Levy asked.
‘I find another one. The prison is overcrowded.’
‘Not that, I mean what is coming on then? In a year they are tired from it.’
‘Enough is never enough,’ Maurice smiled.
‘Why does the midget circle still work?’ I asked them.
‘Why?’
We are tired from normality.
I thought a bit about true reasons. Why do they function? Interaction?
‘Why it is cruel there,’ Maurice said.
‘They are handicapped, they are midgets,’ I added.
‘They are cruel midgets,‘ confirmed Levy.
‘People would go there just to throw tomatoes in them.’ I said
‘That is why A bear’s hunger came,’ Levy said.
‘I heard the bear ate someone,’ Maurice.
‘A midget,’ Levy. ‘They ran away from the bear. They always managed but that time one failed. The bear tore him apart. And what? The next time they sold more tickets, cause people thought that the bear was getting better, quicker and the midgets might have weigh issues. Lack of agility. We want to watch a bear eating a human.’
Levy put the glass on the glass table and went on:
‘As an eleven years boy I saw a girl in a journal. She had a black transparent top on. I could see her nipples. Not that good but still. I got a hard on. Today you bring me hundred naked girls and I would still need something extraordinary to get a hard on. Bare tits aren’t enough anymore. Do you catch the tendency?’
‘You aren’t unique,’ I said.
‘You couldn’t eat, Paul, when you experienced a suicide?’
I nodded.
‘Today we need a bear eating a human and what?’
‘We go and buy tickets,’ Maurice said.
Levy looked at him.
‘And popcorn to eat when a bear eats a human. Sooner or later, we will throw a man in a cage with a bear inside. After a good hundred eaten persons people will get used to it.’
‘No hard on anymore,’ Maurice.

In a couple of days day I met my friend, a state executioner, Jack in the law enforcement where I was supposed to sigh an already prepared contract on providing a criminal to hang. There were still a number of open points but preliminary deal had been already approved between the both sides expecting a considerable cash flow. We spoke about Asm, executions he was damned to carry out till he would be dead and so on. We touched the midget theme as well. A good carbonara, a good company, a noble aftertaste.
He looked tired cause he took it really hard to execute people. A certain fatigue accumulated in an endless course of routine. We all used to get tired from it but we all have a different kind of routine.
Someone is getting tired from paperwork, accounting and payrolling. Jack got tired from executing people. It is a stress of a different nature.
Sometimes, a bad sleep doesn’t mean a bad conscious. A bad sleep is just a bad sleep.
“A smell of burnt flesh” in the air.
Honestly, he was the only one I knew who got tired from violence.
Then, it got me thinking…and I ended up with two ideas.
The first one:
‘Levy,’ I began. ‘Tell me why you, me and the audience aren’t tired from violence but a state executioner who kills people twice a week got tired from it?’
He was staring at me not saying a word for a certain time. Then he got.
‘Cause he kills.’
‘That is right. Interaction.’
Levy asked me what I would propose to do to stop that violent obsession expansion. Me second idea was right about that.
‘Mass killing.’
‘Aha,’ He said. ‘A revolution.’
Arnold Joseph Toynbee. A war as a precondition for creation and demolition of a civilization.
War may thus contribute to the origins, and, it seems, to the growths of civilizations as well as to their breakdowns and disintegrations. It is particularly the war against representatives of other civilizations which contributes to creating civilizations, and the war within a civilization which contributes to its breakdown and disintegration.
Revolution. The war within a civilization. Where would it go? Where would it end up?
Anyway, someone who had to kill tens with their own hands to save his soul and then got their hands amputated wouldn’t demand for more violence. Fatigue.
In the archive I once came across a reportage about village, to be more precise, about urbanization. People tended to leave village for a big city life. There was a man said he would never leave his village. He used to wake up soon and do the same job from day to day. The reporter asked him why he wouldn’t leave for a new life full of lights, opportunities and impressions. The man said he was happy he had managed to survive in the war he had to participate in and the village was the most suitable place for him to live. He needn’t city’s lights, opportunities and impressions. Another day would be enough.
We are generation deprived of mass killings and amputations. For us, enough is never enough.


















ALARIC

De rebelli:
The ability to clearly identify an ally and alien is the most crucial one.

June, 28

Heavy breathing. Alaric seemed to be sick. He sat down on the bench at the back wall. He had just returned to the circus. Partially the whole day he had spent in the sewers. It was darkening. Today they had an official free day i.e. had no performance on the agenda. During the day the troupe was free except perhaps for daily cleaning in the morning.  However, it was just officially.
The impresario went down from his office and watched the midgets doing nothing. Some played cards, some fed the bear, some talked and so on. A free day took its course. He turned around and went back up into the office. He didn’t like them having a free day but he had to accept it. They had a right for one free day in a week. He hoped that a new law resolution would come into force and then the midgets would have no right for a free day.
Still it was a performance. Alaric divided the troupe into several groups. While ones were having a rest in the circus doing nothing, the others worked hard underneath. Then the groups changed. The midgets couldn’t afford losing a day. Time played against so they had to work harder. 
Ulf controlled the process while Alaric was away into the sewers.
‘I met the sleeper,’ Alaric said.
Ulf was surprised cause the sleeper vanished a couple of months ago and never announced himself. On the one hand the sleeper had to regularly hide out for weeks and months. The life he led required a certain level of conspiracy and disguise. From time to time he had to stop activities in progress and vanish.
On the other hand. Actual situation required  full involvement and exceptional responsibility. It was the sleeper’s words. Besides, he used to warn before he vanished but not that time. He just vanished. It looked strange.
‘Where was him?’
‘He said he had to. It is not as quiet as we need it. That is why he had to. Otherwise he couldn’t complete the delivery.’
‘He completed?’
‘He completed but we have to meet him tomorrow evening and pick up the package.’
‘Guns?’
‘Five pieces and twenty kilo explosives.’
‘It is not much but it is enough.’
Alaric nodded.
‘He warned about new resolutions coming in a couple of months. Those would trouble deliveries. He meant sources. They are not much but new special units would shut off the valve. Did you know that they covered a supplier?’
Ulf shook the head negatively.
‘The scheme, Ulf, isn’t absolutely reliable anymore. All he can do is just very limited deliveries. Any huge batch would lay us down.’
Everything else but good news. The midgets were ready to work hard every day and every night. They were born to do the job no one in the world couldn’t but they needed something to toil for. That something was a dream on freedom. For that they were ready not only to work but to die. If they were deprived of that dream…Alaric couldn’t answer that question.
‘We have to act,’ said Ulf.
He understood the necessity to act but didn’t really imagine how they should. They needed more time and resources to meet the plan. At least two hundred kilo explosives, fifty pieces guns and so on.
‘In the nearest future no deliveries expected. People are getting frightened. No one is ready to take risks. A couple of months and then…we will see.’
‘Thus, we can act at least in four months?’
‘If nothing unprecedented happens. We have to face new resolutions. They will change our status. If they change I don’t know what comes then. We can wait four and five months but what would we do if in two months they just get us in cages and drive away into camps? What if in three months they close the sewers if something leaks out?’
‘There are too many what ifs.’
‘It is, we can start the plan in a month and we damage them seriously but I am not sure we are able to resist any longer.’
They were about to get fully prepared for the plan but they still needed some position to be filled. Besides, the sleeper promised to do his best in the most crucial moment but he needed to know precisely when this crucial moment would come.
‘The sleeper said there are some groups ready to join when needed.’
‘Are they many?’
‘Enough.’
‘Armed?’
‘Not as we are, but they have something.’
‘We need communication.’
‘Yeah, he takes over the task, but he needs to know when. A matter of conspiracy. It wouldn’t be reasonable to start rumoring about the plan. There are always leaks. If it leaks out we will get caught and consequently everything we have done is suddenly in vain.’
Imaginatively Ulf  investigated the plan once again. There were a number of troubled points they couldn’t close because of the lack of required materials but in general the picture looked really great. The most crucial targets were ready. They needed just to switch them on.
‘It is a matter of priority,’ Ulf said.
Alaric’s silent question.
‘We have worked pretty much over the plan. To sum it up, we have done a good job. The picture looks quite promising. We have still a number of incomplete points but the most important ones we have done. If we had to act this week, supposing, we could concentrate all our resources on the most crucial points. Thus we would sacrifice some points for the sake of more important ones. It’s a matter of priority.’
‘You mean the second district?’
‘Yes. But,’ Ulf exclaimed. ‘Under actual conditions we could give up the priority points in the third circle. At the same time, we just damage the communication. It wouldn’t be as effective in long term perspective but it would provoke a true chaos. They wouldn’t know which points were already destroyed and which were just damaged.’
‘They will restore the communication quite soon.’
‘Agree. In a couple of days they would restore but these two days we could use to deliver as much damage as possible.’
They became silent for a while thinking over the ideas expressed. There were more disadvantages than advantages but…
‘It is all just an emergency case,’ Ulf said. ‘But we have still a couple of months as far as I see.’
‘Tomorrow we meet the sleeper. We can ask him.’
‘Anyway, he knows more than anybody.’
Alaric nodded. It was clear that no one but the sleeper could help them the most. He was the best informed and best connected to the others who could join.
‘Well,’ Alaric said. ‘This emergency idea isn’t that bad.’
‘But we should know about the start in sufficient time in advance. Two weeks. To relocate resources we have.’
Alaric grinned.
‘It is so strange.’
‘What?’
‘We trust a person who we know absolutely nothing about.’
‘You mean the sleeper? He is reliable.’
‘The most reliable, but isn’t it strange?’
‘You got doubts?’
‘If we attacked and they were already ready I wouldn’t be surprised.’
‘Who is that sleeper? What we know about him.’
‘Not a thing. He delivers guns and explosives.’
‘Why does he do that?’
Alaric shrugged the shoulders.
‘He never spoke of himself.’
‘You know what, Alaric, in case of emergency we have nothing to lose, so, we wouldn’t lose much if we trusted him. There is no guarantee, but we’d better use all resources we have. If he lays us down…anyway we don’t have as many chances, but if he really joined the groups it…it could work out.’
Alaric agreed. he used to control situations and people but he couldn’t get any control on the sleeper. This one was never controllable. Somehow, Alaric was wary of uncertainty and the sleeper was that uncertainty pur.
He used to ask himself where the sleeper came from and who he was. No name, no address, no friends. He provided trustworthy information and the most reliable sources. At first sight, he did it surely for money, but doing such a business demands a certain ideological ground cause your life is barely to measure with money.
Once, reading newspaper, Ulf drew a comparison between numerous arrests made and the sleeper. He asked then whether it looked strange that the sleeper equipped those groups with guns and explosives and they were regularly arrested.
It looked suspicious. However, Alaric decided not to ask the sleeper about that not to injure him. The sleeper was the only one who dealt with the midgets. It would be imprudently bite the hand that fed them. He continued acting pretty cautious and that cautious trust paid off.
During the year they recurrently delivered attacks involving guns and explosives and there were no hint for  the sleeper’s unreliability. The point was that Alaric didn’t understand his motivation.
Alaric was acting based on certain ideological considerations that is why he searched for something similar in the sleeper but couldn’t find.
Besides, he heard about numerous frames. A dealer sold guns or information and then people got caught red handed. This business was a pure banana skin.
You never know who you deal to and what would expect you…Addressing such people is taking risks. The prices are too high. Your only life…but you don’t do it if you never faced desperation.
Why did Alaric chose him?
It is simple. The sleeper was the most unsocial and desolate the same like Alaric himself. The sleeper wasn’t a sales manager incessantly trying to push another gun into your pocket. If you wanted something from him you had to ask him. He never made the first step.  He used to act unfriendly, hidden, with a certain portion of suspicion towards you.
Alaric knew for sure – trust the one who doesn’t trust anyone.




























JACK

A state social machine gives you certain prescriptions and policies. Blindly pursuing such policies, traditionally beginning with assigning numbers to people, delimits an individual to a consumable item.

June, 28

Staring at the ceiling I came across a strange thought. I can’t remember the day when I was awakened by an alarm clock. It must be four years ago. It could be five. From a certain day I started waking up minutes before alarming. It looks like normally, doesn’t it? Sure.
The biorhythms. If I used to wake up at the same time for years, considering a certain tolerance, it speaks about healthy biorhythms. No reason to worry about unless…
I am waking up during the night with great regularity. It is known as body clock or internal clock. We mean right this clock when speaking of biorhythms. If you ask, there is surely a bug crawled in my clock. I need a master to correct the program. Some setting error making me wake up in every hour.
So, summing up, I sleep four hours a night and wake up at the same time for years without any alarm clock.
A sort of irony. My damaged body clock prevents me from sleep through the time. I am never too late because I am always too early. I need a watchmaker.
Paul’s message “need to talk”. Written in the middle of the night. He managed to write me right between my awakenings.
I dial him up.
‘Paul, are you ok?’
‘Yeah, alright. Need to meet.’
‘Place as usual.’
‘Ok.’
‘Let’s meet at 14:00, if you can, I need to the archive today. Spend some time there.’
‘Not a problem. At 14:00, as usual.’
Eggs and bacon. I name it American breakfast. It is not challenging, you don’t need to be an experienced cooker. It doesn’t take up much time and energy. You cannot really go wrong with it. It is too simple to screw this up unless you burn it.
I learned to do it properly.
Somehow it seems to me that doing simply things involves a certain mastery. No matter what you take up – American breakfast, writing notes or executing people. It is not only about a given algorithm you follow. It is a routine procedure that makes your attention decline drastically. The drivers with 3-6 years driving experience are at risk. They are already aware of their abilities and their attention declines. The mastery comes later. You can make a hundred breakfasts but you burn your one hundred first. The same is valid for executions. No matter how many you have executed – never lose your attention. I have lost so many times, that my clients must have been devilish sinner if they happened to be clients. I don’t care. It is a matter of mastery. I lack it…but who cares. The client is dead. The results matter.
If you talk about routine and mastery to do that flawlessly in the course of long years you are damned to end up at our archivist. A man of algorithms. A man of routine.
‘Kim.’
‘Hi, Jack.’
‘I believe Hank approved yesterday.’
Kim looked in his log. Searched for a while.
‘What would you like to have?’
Kim is an old Korean. He wouldn’t give a dossier to his mom if it wasn’t approved. If something goes wrong with the instruction you don’t get what you want. If I am not authorized for that Burton I don’t get him.
‘There are prisoners, both alive and dead, which have special status. To receive their dossier you have to ask for the special approval given only be the magister. According to the instruction I can’t provide a list of names involving the special approval.’
That is how he usually says if you ask questions. Behind his back there are thousands of dead men. Everyone who has ever been executed rests behind this oldie and you are not going to take them unless he hands it over to you. As far as I know he has never breached the instruction. He is here for a reason. It is the best man the regime has ever had. He knows everyone here – both alive and dead.
‘Kim, I need a dossier of a certain Winston Burton. Would you be so kind?’
He looked at me inspective or maybe cautiously and disappeared somewhere between the shelves. I am a bit nervous cause Kim used to ask questions if he considered them necessary. He was too careful.
In a couple of minutes Kim returned.
‘May I ask you why do you need Winston Burton?’
‘I am assigned to Vincent Oakman. There are some ideas as for possible cooperators, I just decided to check this one for common connections. Supposition.’
No emotions on his face. He would make a good poker player with his emotionality. He reached me the dossier and then log.
‘Sign please.’
‘Thank you, Kim,’ I took the log and signed.
He took this back and made some note.
‘You are welcome.’
With the dossier in my hand I headed to the table right at the window. Not that I feel claustrophobic without windows but it was the farthest table. There were already some men sitting from different departments, so I didn’t want to walk around with a certain dossier. I mind my status.
Winston Burton.
There was a suspect, a certain Nick, who allegedly participated in an attack attempt which was successfully prevented.  The group was caught. All the participants pleaded guilty included that one. They were executed. Nothing really noteworthy.
Well, Winston had been witnessed repeatedly with that suspect, who confirmed that Winston hadn’t had any relation to the attempt but despite that Winston became a suspect.
According to his own depositions, he knew this Nick from school times. They regularly met and spent time in one company. The fact that they were friends didn’t mean that Winston was a cooperator, as Winston said.
However, some witnesses were allegedly ready to confirm that one of the conversation between them involved word “attack” which meant that if supposed that Winston was not a cooperator he was apparently aware of the attack. Thus he didn’t inform the police but he was to.
Thus, four years ago, he as a non-cooperator but still a dissident was sent to a labor camp on the north involved in extension of existing railways and building a railway bridge.
He spent there a year. There is no details but somehow he talked to a certain prisoner and allegedly mentioned that had had some relation to the attempt.
My experience says that in real it could be said in an absolutely different way or manner, but the dossier is kept by official people and they write there what is supposed to be written.
That was how Winston’s case continued. The executional department took him for consideration. At the same time they started analyzing all the details of the attempt case. It was then stated that Winston  denied to cooperate with investigation. It means he denied to plead guilty. Thus he was sentenced to death.
He was executed two and a half years ago. December, 26. Executed through electrocuting.
It means he could be executed be me but there were many executioners. I hope it was not me. I continued reading further information. I searched for the executioner.
The execution report. A standard description. The chair was properly checked. No failures. The transformer was ok. The condemned didn’t resist and so on. The chaplain said a sermon. Everything was done according to the instruction. No faults. A clear execution.
The doctor pronounced Winston burton dead after the second stroke.
A common case I should say. Death after the second stroke is the most frequent one. Statistics.
But who was the executioner.
I looked further and found him. It is not a name, it is a code.
Z10107.
I leaned back. Now I hear my heart beating. I feel the blood flowing massively into my head. My eyes are pulsing. Cold sweat will break in seconds. It proceeds like that if you find out something that you would like not to find out.
That is my internal code. If someone from a different department sees that code it would say nothing to them. A name of the investigator is scripted as well. So I just read the numbers not a name and those numbers say nothing to me but I understand that they refer to someone from the investigation.
However, it is not the thing that bothers me.
I executed Winston Burton.
The next time I meet Joy. She asks me – Jack, who killed my Winston?
And what am I supposed to say?
“Hi, Joy, I killed him but I even didn’t know who I killed and of course I don’t remember those who I killed. You look great today! Would we feed the ducks? Don’t you give me a piece of bread?”
It was 13:30. In a half an hour I would meet Paul. He had something to tell. That moment he was on the backstage.
Of course I won’t tell her the truth. It would make no sense. Winston is dead and it was just a job. It was not intention. Just a job. I tell her just he was executed. Not to tell is not to lie. However, that isn’t going to leave me alone. She loves him still as far as I can see and I executed him. It is just painful. Everything else but indisturbable.
I had similar thoughts already but now it is as actual as never before. I mean I have executed so many people but never knew who they were. I talk with then always but they are all the same. They are sentenced. A half an hour talk doesn’t change much but it is better than nothing. I don’t remember their names.
I talk to them but it proves to be nothing at all if I don’t remember them. On the other hand…if I had remembered them all I would have gone crazy already. I am an executioner. I execute people. It is my burden to bear so I decide how it is better for me to bear.
Don’t look back. It is painful.
Reminiscences are tragic. I should follow further without turning back. It is my professional trait to be tough headed otherwise you don’t survive, you don’t keep going, you don’t hold and this burden is going to smash you down…
However, it is a great stroke. I never knew this guy. He had his life. He lived it. I executed him like utilized an empty bottle of milk. Consumed.
So, I have to go. Paul is waiting.
I returned the dossier and thanked Kim.

‘The porn king is on hold!’
‘No broadcasting?’
‘The thing is that Vincent Oakman has become star number one. These tendencies are changing every minute. Yesterday they wanted the king today they are longing for Vincent. No one would talk something like that, but everyone conceives that people want Vincent cause that guy blew up a number of big shots. They ask each other who is that man who managed to fuck them all? That man is Vincent, that is why, the channel is badly craving for Vincent.’
Now it is getting gripping. If they broadcast Vincent they broadcast me. I am going to be a star executioner. A new Marshall. A good thing is that Marshall executed quite rarely, what is not bad at all. However, am I right for that deal?
Paul continued.
‘Just out of curiosity, Jack, if you had an opportunity would you execute in public?’
If I were sure that he knew I would take it for sarcasm.
‘maybe, but any information who the executioner is?’
‘Of course, not, Jack! you know that no one would name an executioner!’ It was a mix of bewildered exclamation and whispering.
‘I though you have any information.’
He shook his head negatively.
‘The executioner is right in front of you.’
He rounded up his eyes.
‘Kidding?’
I shook my head negatively.
‘Am I looking like kidding?’
I was quite serious.
‘But you said that you are regularly reported. How?’
‘Marshall is dead.’
‘I don’t quite know who Marshall was.’
‘It doesn’t matter anymore who he was. I will execute Vincent. I have already visited him in the cell.’
‘You spoke to this guy?!’
He was completely bewildered.
‘He is absolutely ok if you mean that.’
‘I heard, he is utterly insane. But once he was a usual office clerk. Then he went mad. It is all I got about him.’
‘I spoke to him as to you now. I didn’t have an impression he was insane.’
‘Doesn’t matter. I still can’t believe you are…will…fantastic, Jack! you are going to be a new star. But you shouldn’t stop on it. If you keep doing like that you are doomed to be the most wanted!’
He sounded so excited as if it was him who was to change the world and become the lord of the lords and so on.
‘But you don’t really look like a guy who won the lottery…what is wrong? scared of glory?’
I shook my head and hesitated whether I should explain him why I didn’t feel like a lottery winner.
‘You know, Paul, I met a girl.’
‘It is great, Jack, but the question remains.’
‘I won’t go into details. Briefly, I executed her man about three years ago.’
He opened his mouth as if wanted to say something, but he didn’t. Obviously he hesitated.
‘Does she know that?’ He asked
‘No, but I promised her to get informed what happened to her beloved.’
‘And you have found out it today.’
‘I have.’
‘And what do you think?’
‘I shouldn’t tell everything.’
He started nodding.
‘Right you are. She will never know if you don’t say. Her guy is dead and it was just the law, not you. ‘
‘I am not going to tell her, but…it is a gut feeling. Mental disturbing. Just…you see…I have executed quite many men but…they all had families, they lived their lives, they felt and…I just took their lives.’
‘Just forget that. It is no way out but forget. It is too heavy to carry it. Let it go.’
‘I know, it is not just this guy that is problem.’
We made a pause for a couple of minutes. He visited the WC and got back.
‘Forget that shit and concentrate on Vincent. I am sure the channel will broadcast him. Believe me, he is number one and consequently you are going to be number one in the same company with that insane guy.’
‘One more thing, Paul. It looks like I am gonna be shadowed?’
‘Shadowed? You mean;’
‘There is somewhere a guy following me. Just mind your language and be careful.’
‘Thanks for warning, but don’t forget, d’Eau got really on the edge with that man behind his back. I am not sure if he could kill you.’
‘He wouldn’t. Not his manner. A murder is a way dirty thing for his uptight nature.’
‘I am afraid that his time is precious enough to just waste it. I mean, who seeks will find.’
How to find a right balance between underrating and overrating?
‘By the way, what do you know about camp survivors who then work in the underground?’
He shot a grin.
‘Tough guys. What do you mean exactly?’
‘Kind of revolutionary attitudes.’
His glance displayed suspicion and stated a silent question needing a quite clear answer. I knew I could entrust him into some details.
‘I have heard the other day they might be planning something.’
He looked around but cautiously not to draw a redundant attention.
‘First of all, Jack, I don’t know a thing but I know that;’ He searched for words.’ There are signs that something is in the way. But on the other hand, the underground used to be swarming with revolutionary attitudes. People there are utterly desperate and that desperation is increasing from generation to generation. If you ask, it is like a bubble. Sooner or later it is supposed to burst but as I said I got nothing certain to tell you in that relation.’
‘They shove letters under doors.’
He wasn’t surprised.
‘I have never dealt with that personally but I am informed about that. It is a common guerilla strategy. They try to win people on their side. I believe it is really the most efficient tool under the circumstances but it is pretty risky as well.’
‘As a matter of fact, you deal with suicides. Are they frequent?’
He smiled.
‘ You sound suspicious, fella. You have at least deserved a year in a camp. I can tell you not much but it would be enough, believe me.’
‘Full attention.’
‘Yes. They are frequent enough.’ He paused a moment as if something struck him. ‘and to be completely honest, the rate is extremely high but no one would provide any information on this point and you know why.’
Surely I know.
‘You ask today strange questions, fella. Something wrong?’
I shook my head.
‘Sooner or later we have to deal with it. We have to ask questions.’
‘Harsh times.’
Again I don’t remember what I have just eaten. Is it a sign of stress overwhelming me?
We paid and left.
Again outside. Again in front of the table with financial news. Again that big screen with a woman representing something essential for skincare or…I don’t care. Fuck it!
‘Just imagine that man,’ Paul said looking at the screen. ‘You will be there. This man with a noose on his neck and you jerking the lever. I was assured I would make you stare, but…you just shocked me. Unbelievable!’
I was nodding without saying a word.
I didn’t let it out but I was shocked to a certain extent as well. I never believed people would watch me on that big screen. Me jerking the lever. Putting a bag on his head. Surrealistic.


















MACABER

In a camp:
In the face of death nothing escapes its nakedness.

Three years are done. I haven’t counted days. I don’t remember the day I entered the barrack. The chief warden said to me.
His name is Amon. A dark philosopher positioned to press lives from people. From time to time he made rounds through the camp. He came up to us and called me.
‘Macaber. What a name.’
He attentively reviewed my upper body and fixed his glance at my face without saying a word as if waiting for me to say something. Actually I didn’t have anything to share.
‘Macaber, people learned to disguise their true nature but it comes up to the surface in places like that one. That is why I like this camp. It reveals a human’s nature. I see you deserve your name. You are true Macaber.’
Then he informed me that I had spent here three years. It isn’t a great occasion. There are many prisoners who crossed the mark, but I made an impression of being the toughest. Then I asked myself what drove me to keep scraping towards the extinction. I failed to find a sound explanation.
I had no family. I had no one to revenge on but I had an enemy which made me endure that pain. The regime. I know that I got no future. I don’t hope for an escape but I still hope to leave this place on my own feet. I am not dead but I am not alive as well. I am somewhere in between.
A month ago the dog broke the arm. A medicine help is provided for the personnel only. Thus, he didn’t count on the help. It is a common knowledge there – if you break something you are bad worker. You are a step closer to the end. He didn’t cry with pain. He knew the rule. Looking at me he said that he would proceed further with one hand cause he didn’t want to die. We worked in pair.
However, the dog needed calcium otherwise his break would never get healed. For that we took up the unloading of provision which came with the next train. It costed us a week bread portion. We hid several bottles of milk into the trash and dig them into the ground. It was much better than nothing. Somehow his break healed. It still hurts much but he can move his arm. Hope he will get better in a month cause everyone needs his second arm working.
When I joined the brigade there were thirty of us. From those twenty nine men I got known only six are alive. I am the oldest from them. I am three years old. Here you receives knew name and new age. The first day you are so frightened that you understand nothing. New world. New faces. Then you start socializing step by step. You are getting tougher, angrier, number to all the pain you feel. Sooner or later comes the day when you stop suffering. Your hope for freedom, warmth and homecoming is evolving from treasure into poison. You stop dreaming about mom and wife. You dream to die in a dream.
‘Macaber,’ said Molch. ‘Hope is the worst of all evils. It prolongs the torments of man.’
Nietzsche.
‘I don’t hope anymore. I am Macaber.’ I replied.


























ALARIC

De rebelli:
A rebellion is like an avalanche by its nature. No matter how thoroughly you prepare it. Its development is inevitably and naturally unbridled, elementary and completely unpredictable. That is why it is so mortally dangerous.

June, 29

The sleeper was the only non-midget Alaric got on well with. They used to meet in the sewers on the border of the fifth and sixth subdistricts. The place never changed unless the sleeper notified him at the preceding meeting. When Alaric and Ulf came the sleeper was already there.
The sleeper used to come sooner. He put cautiousness before all else and wanted to take the place under visual control before the meeting. Once he told a short story to Alaric about a dealer who traded illegal stuff. That man came to the pointed place to meet a buyer and got arrested. The buyer whistled on him. The police came to the place ahead of time and waited there for the dealer.
‘That is why I come sooner,’ The sleeper said.
He avoided lights and crosswalks. The most suitable place to meet was a dark and forgotten offset with a secret hole leading into the underground. If something seemed strange to him he would disappear. However, he preferred to avoid emergency situations and took the place under control ahead of time.
He stood right in the middle of the darkness. There were two wooden boxes.
‘Guns, explosives -  he alternately pointed the torch on two boxes.’
Alaric handed over a packet to him.
‘As agreed.’
The sleeper nodded.
‘We need more,‘  Ulf added.
‘I know that you need more but you have to wait. It is not secure. It has never been but now it is escalating. As far as I know new resolutions will be taken. The enforcement is arranging new special units. Today we meet here and there is no guarantee it is possible in two months. ‘
‘Are your sources threatened?’ Alaric asked.
He noddle unsure.
‘I'm telling you this so, today they work, tomorrow they are dead. It is not fully up to them. Supposing we get now caught. They bring a nail to my eye in the enforcement and I tell them all they need. It means, a couple of sources don’t work anymore. A today situation isn’t a guarantee for tomorrow. Anyway, you have got much enough, haven’t you?’
‘It is enough to attack from time to time but we plan a bigger game.’
‘What do you mean?’
One of the sleeper’s strongest point was informativeness. He knew who, what, when and where. That is why he was so effective. He was like a reliable sales manager who knew about your’ demand better than you. If he knows you are planning something he knows as well what you need and how it would be better to get what you need even if you don’t know what you really need.
Alaric didn’t want to directly reveal his plan.
‘It looks like a guerilla war we lead is losing the impact. Moreover they just learn from mistakes and getting better.’
‘Alaric,’ He sounded like warning. ‘I am getting what you mean and I want to ask you – are you sure you ready for that? It is not a question for a question’s sake. It is a serious thing. It is your life and lives of your people.’
‘You just mentioned resolutions. One of them degrades us to animals.’
‘I heard.’
‘I am not sure we don’t get caged after it comes into force.’
The sleeper didn’t hurry to reply. He was brooding over. Alaric was his loyal steadfast customer. He paid in time and never haggled over the price. Moreover, the sleeper knew what it was like to be a midget under actual circumstances. He didn’t want to lose Alaric as a client and just let him go to his doom. He knew he could help but didn’t have a clear picture of how.
‘You got a plan?’
‘A reliable one.’
‘But you are short on time.’
Alaric was aware of the sleeper’s strategical skills. This guy had been acting against the state for years and had still managed to get away from them. Besides, if there was any underground network, the sleeper was its control panel.
‘That is why we need more.’
‘I told you there are groups. They got arms, explosives but I am not sure if they are ready to join.’
‘Together we would have more chances,’ Ulf said.
‘The thing is that you midgets are,’ He searched for words. ‘Like…crazy. You got nothing to lose. Eat or to be eaten. It is about you but not about them. I know your potential but sincerely…I wouldn’t bet on you. Don’t take offence, guys, but it is behavior psychology. If all the resistance rises against the state it can work out, but people used to stay away cause they are afraid of electrical chairs and labor camps. They hesitate cause they are not sure that absolutely everyone supports them. You nutty midgets can make a decisive impulse and I want to believe in it but stand today I can’t guarantee this support. Still, I promise I will lobby for you.’
He paused. All three exchanged glances.
He continued.
‘I have been selling that for years but up to now I am dealing it underground. Sooner or later I end up in an electric chair but I hope…I hope on you and I will do my best, guys.’
‘Join them,’ Alaric said.
‘I heard of Nobel. No comments. I didn’t know him personally but it is kind of brutal savagery. It is…it is like a bad dream.’
Nobel’s death turned out to be the last drop for Alaric. He was burning with hatred for humans, state, circus. Their applauses and exaltations while the bear was tearing apart Nobel made him frantic. That evening he set the seal on his intention to deliver the last hit. The hit that the state hadn’t seen before. With thousands of deaths. With fire devouring the city. With humans crying in hellish agony.
He said to himself – Nobel is not in vain. Nobel crushes them.
‘Join them. No matter they join or not we will attack. It is gonna be  beyond anything the state has witnessed so far. Our state is not that promising and we will probably die but if they join we all have a good chance to crush the regime. You can deliver hundreds of arms, tons of explosives for years, but it will change nothing. Acting like before we just reveal their weaknesses and they improve. Sooner or later we…it brings us nowhere. We need just a hit. It is obvious.’
‘Sooner or later the regime is done with us,’ Ulf added. ‘Earlier we could freely walk in the underground. Now it is controlled. Another month and the sewers will be taken under control. Then, your sources.’
‘It is just a matter of time,’ Alaric supported him.
‘I heard Vincent is taken.’
Alaric and Ulf nodded.
‘From time to time he was pretty reckless. The shadow followed him. If they set the shadow on him it meant he was incautious. Today he wouldn’t come amiss. ‘
It became silent for a minute. Alaric and Ulf took the boxes.
‘I heard you, guys,’ The sleeper said. ‘I will visit you in the circus.’
Once Alaric was told - If you know what someone is afraid of you kind of know them.
He looked at the sleeper.
‘What are you afraid of?’
The sleeper lingered a bit as if selecting a suitable answer.
‘If the regime falls, another regime comes.’
The roman empire was followed by the sacred roman empire.





























JACK

One and the same thing can be interpreted in two opposite senses. It doesn’t depend on the content. Any message you bear is inevitably an act of free will. The Christianization involved mass killings as a tool to expand the Christianity.  The rest you know.

June, 30

I was on my way to Vincent when Hank called me. Right on the threshold of the prison. ‘Jack!’
‘I am, Hank.’
‘A good message for the exorcist, hanging is approved.’
I was sincerely glad for Iacobus. Such a strange will just must have been approved.
‘It is a good message!’
‘Vincent is too crucial to care about such a tiny case. The magister signed without looking at.’
‘It is great, Hank. I will visit him today. Make a call so that they know.’
‘I am going to. Work on Vincent, we need names.’
‘I know, Hank! Thanks for the message. He will appreciate. Bye.’
‘Bye’
At least one good message. As a matter of fact, I wouldn’t count on that Vincent would give names.
A big letter C. The place where the world ends. Behind the walls there is a dark abyss. Even the door of Vincent’s cell makes you let your hopes go. Steel framed in steel. Like a sign that there is no option, no alternative. You are damned – it says and then they open it. Creaking it makes sounds like a hell’s echo. I enter.
‘I have been waiting for you, Jack.’
He grinned.
‘They say the cam is off.’
‘I see,’ he looked at the cam.
This time the cage turned out to be not as depressive as the last time.
‘They prove to really need your information much.’
‘Only I can give that provided I am alive. They can murder me but I am not supposed to be more talkative if I am dead.’
‘That is right, that is right,’ nodding.
‘Today in the morning I have done one hundred pushups.’
‘Don’t you count steps?’
‘Still not so far,’ smiling. ‘Somehow it is a not quite bad place so far at least as for health, both physical and mental but it lacks of communication and woods.’
I was a bit astounded. He sounded quite positive for a condemned one.
‘You don’t look like a sentenced one.’
‘Believe me, I know what I speak about. Who has never tasted bitter, got no clue what sweet is like. Once I had all, now I am in a cage.’
‘Usually, when comparing…they ask whether you regret or not, but in the case…it is a sort of very bad humor.’
‘I just…it…came to my mind, that being here you can’t really worsen your state. Recently I have read the manifest once again. I can tell you, it take on a new meaning if you have already got what is going on. What Theo meant is absolutely different from what we live in. The regime is a pure form of misinterpretation.’
‘There is an opinion that the manifest is dead.’
‘I mean the same. If we neglect the basis the rest crushes.’
He smiled and continued.
‘In the prison they have a certain number of the manifests stored. For imprisoned ones. However, no on reads it anymore.’
‘Would it make sense? ‘
‘It can get better, but never worse. Being free with possibility to get everything you want… you can move in both directions but it is more likely you are not getting better as if you are damned to make all things worse. Here you are deprived of everything you want. Here you have nothing more to do but making pushups and reading if they have something to read.’
‘Do they have?’
‘As far as I know we are supposed to read only the manifest, but the warden brought me an old book, a shabby one.’
‘What is the book?’
‘Fairy tales. Grimm brothers.’
‘I am not much of a reader, but have heard about them.’
‘Here it doesn’t mean much. Doesn’t matter whether you love reading or not. You need just a week of isolation to feel this love for everything what can distract you from the cage. The more time you spend here the more you understand that you and your body are two different substances. Your body, Jack, is just a tool. They brought me here but in essence here is only my body.’
‘Tool? Your body hurts and needs.’
He seemingly got tired from sitting and stood up. Stretched himself. Made a couple of forward bends.
‘Right, it hurts, it needs, but…once I read a book, the star rover. It is about a prisoner. He was tortured by a jacket. He was tied. I would say imprisoned in that jacket. He partially didn’t eat and drink. The point is he distracted himself. His body was imprisoned and tied quite tough but he was somewhere in his thoughts travelling through time and space. He didn’t have anything and me…I have a book and I am not tortured at least.’
I laughed.
‘I am a torturer as well!’
‘Oh,’ he was surprised. ‘Really? If I don’t say you are going to torture me?’
‘I hope, I don’t. Every executioner is authorized for torturing.’
‘Have you ever tortured?’
‘I did a couple of times. Then never more.’
‘Why?’
‘For that you need a special constitution.’
‘You lack of?’
I nodded. If you tortured once you would never forget that. If you ever doubted that a human is just a mammal, just an animal, you are mistaken. People are ready for everything to save their lives. People are ready for everything to get what they want.
‘You don’t sleep at all.’
He shook the head.
‘You are not suitable for that, I see.’
‘I am not born for skinning.’
‘One must be a sadist?’
‘A piece of batshit.’
‘If you had to, really had to, what would you do?’
‘I am not eager to take the skin off…it is a week without sleeping and eating.’
‘So?’
‘If I had to, I would act mentally.’
He came as close as possible to me. He pressed his head against the bars. Between them.
‘If I stretched my arm, would you shake it?’
He stretched his arm through the bars. I leaned forward and pressed his hand. Then I let him. He took the hand back and stepped away to the bed.
‘Mentally?’
‘I would threaten.’
‘How?’
‘If he would have a child or…’
He nodded several times.
‘I see, I see. Unfair play?’
‘All sides win.’
‘Really all?’
‘No blood spilling.’
‘Is it fair to use children?’
‘I would ask then – what do you mean when talking about “fair”? I mean, if you talk about fair, you mean certain rules.’
‘Aha, as far as I see, you mean, if there are no rules;’
‘You can’t be unfair.’
‘But mentally, if we take these rules and procedures out, don’t you think it is unfair?’
‘I see where you are going. I agree with you to a certain extent, not fully. So to say, I would rather lie and blackmail than spill one’s blood and skin someone. I am ready to be unfair but I know that this fairness would bring any good to no one as well. Finally, if I keep being fair and don’t spill blood, then come someone else.’
‘And spills children’s blood if needed.’
I didn’t say a word. It was clear. He stood up again and came up to me and sat down on the floor just opposite to me. I stood up from the chair and sat down on the floor as well.  Next to him. Just the bars between us.
‘That is how the regime plays. It is always fair. They don’t create rules not to breach them. The rules restrict tools. The more rules the less tools. So, what is the use of rules. Just use everything to reach the goal.’
‘You said you had all.’
He was staring in front of himself. After I have asked him, he smiled and shook his head.
‘I had, man, I had all I wanted. This regime was my paradise. I did all I wanted, I had all I wanted.’
‘And?’
‘Everything you know won’t be ever the same and inevitably break down if you just look at the regime from the other angle. Before, you don’t conceive why people act like that getting themselves in troubles. The German soldiers, I mean Wehrmacht, mostly were not quite aware of what was happening after they had left and SS had come. They were defending their country, they were fighting for the future of their children and for setting free those oppressed Russians. They fought, they died. They fought the good fight. Would you damn them if you knew that they fought for the good? I was the same. I did my best for the regime’s sake. I knew, I was sure, that we did a right thing. But then;’
He went silent.
‘Through all my life I am SS. The disorder…I saw it every day. I am a part of it. In other words, I never faced this dissonance. ‘
‘Does it mean that seeing the good is a way to mental crash?’
‘It starts crashing with the first question you ask’
‘Looking back I just wonder why I never saw it all before. When I saw it was an explosion.’
‘It must have been something personal.’
He nodded.
‘Yeah, it was a personal thing. Comedown.’
‘So, what was it?’
He looked at me. With detachment. Then he let his glance fall down on his feet. A minute maybe.
He hesitated to start.
‘There is a certain state department. It is kind of investment department. We made decisions what deserved investing and what deserved nothing. The stately defined investment conditions let you make good money and really good connections. Big shots are very generous if you let them make a fortune, you know. Such a place, Jack, if you get in you are a fortunate man. You get fixed, your life is settled. You don’t have care about anything anymore. If you want something or somebody you just get it, if you can’t you got connections and…in the end you get it. I come from a pretty wealthy family with numerous serious connections. Thus, Jack, I was doomed to end up there. I was born for that. Moreover, I really could do my job. If I made a shit I was covered.’
He made a pause.
‘Just like a whale going forward with mouth opened and get all what is on the way. ‘
Honestly, I couldn’t imagine that.
‘Women? Drugs?’
He looked at me.
‘All you want. There are no limits. There are people who earn their living by providing that.’
‘Were you hard on it?’
‘I were but not that hard. There were guys who…they have no way out anymore. Once a marriage happened to me. It is a sort of strange. If you can have as many women as you want you shouldn’t marry. It is going to be a troubled marriage and it is through your fault.’
‘So, it was your case?’
He nodded.
‘We lived together five years. Then divorced through my fault. You can’t keep your vest white. You got it spotted. We followed different ways and I didn’t care much of hers. I lived as I had lived before. Years passed. From time to time I thought about her, how she was doing, what she would look like if I met her and so on. You know, those thoughts about your friends and exes who you haven’t seen for a long time. However, I never confronted this question that deep. Just some warm recollections. If you are spinning along nicely without stopping you then need a moment of rest…for a couple of minutes. Just stop and look around as if to infix what your life has become and the point you are in.’
‘So you met her?’
His eyes fixed on the floor. He didn’t move at all. Not  a wink. He seemed not to be breathing as if he was dying.
‘I met her. The day, the moment I will never forget. If you ask, there are moments which happen just to some people. Those moments are not for anybody. You must earn them, really earn and I mean you have to wrack a tremendous havoc to get once this boomerang back. This boomerang…when you get it back you get a sledge blow. You get knocked out. No chance to remain standing. ‘
He grinned.
‘The moment when you are proclaimed sentenced,’ he added.
‘So’
‘It is that easy…it’s…it’s a moment of shock…pure shock…horror.’
He put his head into the hands.
‘Have you ever heard about those clubs for the richest one’s where they look at couples fucking?’
It seems to me I am getting where he is leading to.
‘I have.’
‘Do you know who those girls and men are?’
‘What do you mean?’
‘In this state you can get in tremendous debts. You even don’t need to lend much to get doomed to that slavery. It comes to that monopoly that I meant talking about those big shots we invested in. if you are just a person…not high positioned one, without connections and steady financial sources you…just…get in debts. Of course you do some mistakes you should have avoided and they use it to their advantage. Then you are getting into a legal slavery. If you can’t pay your mortgage back for a certain period of time they can sue you and then you are…imprisoned. It is not a death sentence, it is a labor camp.’
‘Where you don’t live more than five years.’
‘I would say three. I have an acquaintance from there, he survived, but he did much bad things to manage that and he told me that it was a living hell. As for women and those who are not physically really fit…it is more than hell. You don’t want to be there.’
‘I know.’
‘You want to escape it and you agree to something destroying and demolishing you. There is no more internal peace for you anymore. But it is still not that hellish destruction of labor camps. ‘
‘She agreed?’
He nodded.
‘We were absolutely wasted that day. Fully drunk, under the influence. You don’t take anything as serious as…you just watch and do things which maybe you would never dare to do but you are done. There was a big investor, his man and two of us. We went there, in that club with cabins instead of walls.’
‘With peeping windows?’
‘I see you heard.’
‘I have a friend who is pretty well informed.’
‘At first I even didn’t watch, I was done completely. Then the investor’s man exclaimed “look, the one is coming in” I looked into the window and saw a certain man from the opposite cabin coming in the room where the couple was.’
The story was  a burden for him. He was talking so slow, word after word. Stretching words as if getting into a trance…as if giving a possibility to me to depict the whole picture, to make every step down the stairs into hell without hurrying up. Methodically. Unavoidable. Like a sentenced one is stepping along a scaffold.
‘A man with a tattoo on his belly. He came up to the couple and I looked at her…and…heavy, man…it was her. It was a pure hell, man. It was a fucking hell. I never got sober so fast. In a sec. Cold sweat. So fucking disgusting it was you can’t imagine. They all started crying and laughing. Everyone was done and no one cared anything. I got stoned. I couldn’t believe my eyes. You never know which shit you can get in.‘
He looked at me. Reddish eyes. No tears, but eyes were reddish. Wrath. Desperation. Void…
‘Everyone was in ecstasy. No one to stop anymore. I looked around. Everything turned tits up. I left the cabin and headed to the WC where I vomited. No idea how long I was sitting in the WC. I couldn’t just put myself together. In my head it was echoing how someone asked me whether I would like to taste a girl…hellish, Jack. I left the club and went somewhere searching for a place without lanterns, just darkness. I wanted to flee but you never manage to flee from yourself. I couldn’t eat. I was taking sedatives, strong ones, to be able to sleep and…finally…I met her in my dream…her glance was the same like there…void…penetrating me…I woke up. In the middle of the night. Sedatives didn’t act at all. Physically I was at the bottom. Your look when you live on sedatives and don’t sleep. When you touch bottom…then you dig lower, you dig and dig and there…there was my mental state. I crashed. All crashed. That way I had been living for a month, maybe a bit more, before the day I just…That man, the investor, all those clubs belonged to him.’
‘That is she was in debt’
‘His slave…to some extent. I couldn’t work there anymore. I looked at those men, at my colleagues, at all those investors…I saw her…as if all of them raped her. It was much told then. My dad and mom talked much to me. I would lose everything. But…I was damaged…so much…I couldn’t…I just…I…irretrievable damage was done to me. The whole fucking month I was conceiving, I was contemplating how deep I had immersed in that shit. How mistaken I had been all my life. I looked at everything from the opposite viewpoint. That day, when I saw her in the club…when I left the WC I accidentally met her in the corridor. It was just a moment, just a sec, just a glance. No words said. A glance and she disappeared in the stuff room. That glance. No matter how long and fast you flee you never manage…in around six weeks I finally left the department...I got acquaintances which I would never have had before, you know those people…they lived in abuse, they hated the state…the bottom of the heap they were…dangerous, very dangerous people…nothing to lose anymore. Some of them had managed through labor camps.  The men of steel. I had no way back anymore. So, I closed to them. In a couple of months I found out that she had killed herself. Overdosed. Consciously. The moment I found out that was another stroke for me. In the end of the day I knew for sure what I would do the next.’
I did knew what I should ask further. For the names? He was down. A bad moment for asking questions. I never heard a story like that. A heavy burden. That is why an executioner is to just state a date. Listening to such stories is a way to a mental hospital. Sooner or later you start hating the regime and a job you do. You see, that there is no different way to follow. You abuse or get abused. No choice anymore.
We are not informed about suicidal cases. Everyone understands that the rate is high but no one ask questions. At least doesn’t pronounce them. I remembered that man in Ull’s bookery. Everyone pretended not to pay any attention to his words but everyone listened to him. This man happened to become the embodiment of the reality we are in. We got to pretend when truth is told.
‘I know much. I have done much. That investor was the first I targeted. I feel the blame for her. I am pretty sorry. This guilt followed me always, every day but I revealed it only that day in the club. I suddenly realized that this guilt is much greater than me. I was overwhelmed by its hugeness. It made me desperate. You see, you can’t motivate a desperate man better than he is already motivated. That is why no matter what they would offer me…I will follow the only way.’
I was burning to tell him about the letters but the warden behind the door was the line I shouldn’t neglect. I was sure Vincent knew who could write those letters. If not personally then he had a tight circle of people in mind. Anyway, if he used to deal with people who managed through camps he couldn’t but know them. Moreover, he might be that one who wrote similar letters to other people. He was surely well informed about such letters and ways they were delivered to doors.
‘To the scaffold?’
‘From that day she is looking at me every day. It is so hard, so heavy. I thought about overdose, but the people I met…they showed me the target. They gave me the sense I live now for.’
‘What is the sense?’
‘To damage the regime, Jack. I will do it as long as I breathe. If they kill me – they set me free from that burden.’
He paused.
‘I hope she is waiting me there. It is my vengeance. It is my struggle and I will struggle. There is nothing worse in the world than this state. They all deserve skinning and burning but all I can is just blasting. So, I do what I can, Jack. Can you do a thing for me?‘ He whispered.
I nodded.
‘Find the midget circus. You need Ulf. He knows, just say you are from me and,’ as quiet as possible. ‘Plan b.’
It was exactly what I wanted to hear from him. I couldn’t ask him about the letters but he gave me an answer if it was the answer. Under the given circumstances I couldn’t take nothing on that point from Vincent but he brought me closer. I admit that I didn’t expect to find the midget circus in that chain but sometimes things look smaller that they are.
He stood up. He went back to the bed.
‘I need a pizza today. All the names you need I will spit out at Thursday. I guess like I deserve these last days alive. Thank you for visiting me and giving a good listener. I am really grateful to you. I needed it, but now you should go and prepare the fucking scaffold for me.‘
I was astounded but I understood him. He was speaking so slow and quiet and suddenly he switched to a steady aloud mode. He sounded self-assured as if he has done what he planned.
‘Hope you enjoy your pizza, but Thursday will be the last visit. Now I have one more visit to give. Not far away from here.’
‘Another block?’
‘Yeah, someone’s last will approved. ‘
‘A worthy will?’
‘Yeah, the guy willed hanging.’
He shook his head. Grinned to farewell. I left.
The only question which started disturbing me was why he was still playing this game. To be forced into a cage. To spend weeks there in expectation of execution. To be devoured by those torturing recollections…What is it for?
And yes…who is that Ulf?
I left the block C and headed to the exorcist.
He was sitting in the same way I left him the last time. Having entered the cell I landed right opposite to him. The same heavy glance. Penetrating.
‘How do you do, hunter?’
‘Tell me.’
‘I have a good message.’
He pressed his lips and nodded in approval.
‘As for the date,’ I said. ‘They say Friday, 12 o’clock.’
‘What is about you?’
‘My last hanging was about a year ago, maybe more. I will check the knot.’
‘And then?’
‘Then?’ I paused. ‘I don’t know what then… then I go finally mad, hunter. What is about you?’
‘I am still sure it is not going to be the end.’
‘You believe there is something after?’
‘Look, Jack, the demons never die, that means our souls live an eternal life. Essentially, it doesn’t matter where you land at. Paradise or hell. So, what is about your demons?’
I didn’t have much to say.
‘I am like a battlefield. Every week one more demon comes. Once it comes the day when I kill the demon that takes them all, the first one which inhabited me many years ago. The demon, that was the beginning.’
Iacobus was an excellent listener. He was staring at me in the way that helped me to talk. Somehow he helped me. Could it be a kind of hypnosis? Or was it a true magic?
That moment, you all should understand. It is a talk between two good men. One will kill the other. They both are sentenced. They both understand that they are both sentenced.
There was a man who spilled much blood, sacrificed himself and wrote the manifest about a new order. To equalize everyone. Life conditions. Opportunities. Rights. We all know this man. We all like him. We read his manifest and finally we all want to live our lives in the manner described.
Somehow. We both are sitting against each other in the prison cell. Talking. There is a third one with us. All three we know that one is going to kill the other. It is like normally.
I stood up.
‘Thank you, Iacobus!’
What if I had embraced him? How would the warden react? What does the instruction say?
I turned out and left. Passing by the warden I stopped, looked at him and tapped him on his shoulder. He didn’t do a thing. His eyes are rounded up. Fully perplexed.
I went away.
What could worsen my state? I am already at the bottom…There is a bench right opposite to the prison entry. You can’t be sitting there without being fixed by cameras. You are hooked if you spend there more than five minutes. People know it, so that bench is usually empty except of rare days. Something inside tells me that the man sitting there right now is not a layman. A black trilby. Somehow I can’t distinguish his face. I really don’t have to. It is pretty clear…
INTERROGATION

‘The labor camps. More than three millions deaths.’
‘Would you be so kind to tell what is disturbing you the most about these camps?’
‘As far as I can see this crimes are considered to be the most cruelest and disgusting ones from the viewpoint of human morality, am I right.’
‘Exactly.’
‘Do they imply death penalty?’
‘They do.’
‘I have to admit that you are absolutely right and to disagree with you would be a mental deficiency. There is really nothing to argue about. Everyone who participated in it to a some extent deserves death. However, I got two questions on it if you allow.’
‘Full attention, General.’
He nodded his head with gratitude.
‘If you ask, death penalties in relation to ordinary soldiers is a quite questionable decision. They are last link of this chain. They fulfil the orders. The just got no options to act a different way. If they deny an order they are supposed to be immediately haled before the military tribunal. It is the law. Thus, you see, they have to fulfil orders to stay alive. And the second.’ He looked at the secretary. ‘The wool suit. These suits are produced by one of these camps you have named. Your pencil,’ He pointed his glance on the pencil in the interviewer’s hand. ‘is the same story. The paper you make notes on,’ he smiled. ‘You understand. These tables, chairs, furniture at your homes, construction materials for your homes. It is all is produced in the camps. It is all transported on the railways pulled by the camps.’
He looked around everyone once again.
‘You see, my friends, you financially support these camps. They are like a big corporation and you are grateful clients. Here I ask you, what is the punishment that you deserve?’






ALARIC

De rebelli:
Slavery is an equalized balance between someone’s comfort and someone’s suffering. It is expected to be so. The essence of a law, the same as its role, is to control the balance.

July, 1

He was staring at the boxes with tomatoes.
Red overripe fruits like little red bombs. With blistering eyes the impresario filled in the papers. He was extremely happy cause buying overripe tomatoes he accomplished two goals at once – he spared a pretty good amount and pleased the public which needed these overripe tomatoes. They burst easily.
He was staring at his friends and brothers unloading the boxes and carrying them inside. There were his people and they were slaves. He was torn apart with wrath growing in him. With every box he felt another punch inside. His eyes were his tortures.
 It was better to die on your feet than to live on your knees, once said but actual today as well.
He was born a slave to be a slave, but he was a bad slave cause he couldn’t stand it anymore. Sometimes he came to grips with his own brothers because of his nonadmission of submission. It had been argued and fought. The got difficulties in finding compromises.
‘Alaric,’ said the impresario. ‘Take a box, just looking is a bad help.’
Alaric ignored him and just left. The impresario didn’t say a word to resist. He was beware of Alaric cause he used to lose temper and was capable of attacking him. Alaric knew that he was just a slave, but it was the point why Alaric allowed himself to lose temper – they couldn’t worsen his state, he was already a slave. Moreover, he was one of the most crucial artists. No one was as strong and firm as Alaric.
He went to the bear. It was sitting in the cage. It wasn’t supposed to be fed much to stay angry, but they fed him cause otherwise it would die. Alaric came up to the cage. The bear turned to him. He was uneasy. They both were uneasy. They both were permanently uneasy and angry. They were looking into each other’s eyes.
‘Are you hungry?’ He asked the bear.
He used to tease him to see the bear was still ok if the bear was uneasy. If the bear didn’t act it could mean that something happened to it. If someone else of the troupe came up to the cage the bear either ignored them or could fall in rage as if requiring Alaric.
Alaric stepped closer to the cage. The bear was staring at him husking but didn’t roar as he would do if someone else dared to come nearer. That was why Alaric used to be the one leaving the stage last. Then he run right into the bear’s cage and someone else closed it behind them. It was the most dangerous act. Alaric took the most dangerous part. Therefore the troupe tolerated his  stunts. No one would play this game with the bear, only Alaric.
‘Are you hungry?’  He repeated.
His brother, Ulf, watched this scene. He never greeted Alaric’s penchant for getting into troubles but he put up with it cause he was fed up with that slavery as well and knew for sure that a day would come when the wrath would go out unchained and that day he would rely on Alaric.
‘Preparing?’ he asked him.
Alaric felt that someone was watching him. Moreover he knew it was Ulf.
‘Do you remember how he tore apart Nobel?’
‘I will never forget that ‘
‘What don’t you forget?’  He looked at Ulf.
‘He couldn’t cry cause the bear tore his throat with the first hit. He tried, he wanted but he couldn’t’ 
‘I remember how he devoured him, but it is not the first thing that reflected in my memory. I looked around. Their faces. They didn’t stop watching it. They were worried about themselves. They closed children’s eyes with their hands so that their children didn’t see our friend being devoured. No one cried. I mean adults. they were just worried. Worried faces. Worried about our Nobel? No. That moment they all were worried about two things. Their children’s emotional state and;’
He came close to the cage so that his nose was between the stabs.
‘That the bear could somehow fight his way out from the stage right to them.’
The bear was sitting calm as if listening to Alaric. 
Ulf was frightened by the idea that their children would do the same. They would run around the stage hoping they would be a step ahead of the bear. Their children would entertain public by taking tomatoes hits, being harassed, being abused. Sometimes after another program his head hurts him due to numerous tomatoes burst against his head. It is really painful. They are mild and overripe but they weigh something. Some of the midgets used to be vomiting in the nights. Some of them end up with concussions. Notwithstanding that they stand up and entertain again and again. they are getting angry. They are like a spring pressed to the last possible point. it is going to straighten up. It is getting overheated. Slowly. 
‘What about our stock?’ Alaric asked.
If they spoke about the stock they meant something what shouldn’t be pronounced.
‘It is growing,’ said Ulf
‘people know us already’
‘It is earned,’ proudly answered Ulf
‘It is coming on, brother, it is coming, i feel it.’
 Ulf had some uncertainty. He wasn’t sure that the time has come. 
‘The troupe isn’t ready yet’
Alaric was always too hard with the others, he thought.
‘Look at him’, he turned to the bear. ‘Does he look outraged?’
‘No, he looks like tranquillized’ 
‘that is it!’ exclaimed Alaric. ‘do you see what i mean?’
Ulf nodded.
‘Look at those boxes, Ulf, look at them! They are for your head. They will smash the tomatoes against your face, against your wife’s face and your children’s. We are not just slaves. we are fucking clowns to abuse. They want to dehumanize us! You are gonna be an animal! So, tell me, aren’t they ready yet?! - he roared last sentence. ‘
He roared so loud that the others came in. There were strained looks in Alaric’s direction. They stared at him not pronouncing a sound. He looked them all around.
‘I know you are tired! What have you all realized after Nobel’s death? ‘
They were silent. 
‘We are freaks and laughingstocks, ‘ a voice from the crowd
Alaric came to the center of circle built up by the midgets.
‘I realized,’ He became quiet. ‘That we are forage. They keep him hunger,’ he pointed on the bear. ‘Why do they? We feed him. Nobel fed him. I am tired from all of that. And i know that you feel the same.’
he came up to one eyed midget.
‘Tell me, Gaise, do you remember how that dick’s hand cracked when i pressed it? ‘
‘Of course, I remember, he stabbed the bear. ‘
Alaric raised his right arm.
‘I can crush any bone with my right hand! You lost your eye, but do these morons see what you look like enraged?’
‘No! ‘
‘That is it.’
He came up to the midget with a scare from shoulder to elbow.
‘Teodo, you have been barely eaten by him’
‘His claw is heavy,’ he smiled and the others laughed out.
Alaric Rasheed to the next midget.
‘You, Riki, as far as i know you are the only one apart from me who tasted their blood.’
he nodded. A cold glance.
‘Tell them, Riki! ‘
He lingered a second and then he started talking in his steady way.
‘I worked in a dockyard. It was a harsh time. They treated dogs even better than me. They threw bones in me. They stabbed me, punched and so on. I know what is to be harassed better than anyone. That day, a fat moron named Fergy punched me in the stomach, i fell down, than he said that my mom must have been a swine to give birth to me, than he grabbed me, my hair and wanted to press a cucumber into my mouth. He raised me. He was a strong man. It hurt me as never before. People around were laughing dead. Another one day...but not that. I decided it was going to be the last day. I grabbed his hand with both my hands. Then I bit his finger. I was beaten than partially to death. They even weren’t sure i was still alive. They threw me out in a pile of trash. I laid there for two days. Than i woke and fled away.’
The midgets were silent. Some of them were taken aback. Shocked somehow. Riki was a hard guy but they never asked why. He got through hell before started running from the bear.
Alaric stepped back and looked around them all once again.
‘I am proud of you, my brothers and sisters. You are my only family and i am ready to die for you. My brothers and sisters shouldn’t be slaves. We will fight. Death or slavery. death or abuse. Death or our children are proclaimed animals! ‘
He was heavy breathing. He was excited. His eyes were getting red.
‘Today i will do the first step and you all will follow with a tremendous hit they never expected from us. We are the midgets. We are the most underrated ever. That is our time.’ 
He turned to Ulf. You know the plan.
Ulf would try to persuade him not to do that...earlier but not now.
He nodded.
Alaric glanced at Gaise, Theodo and Riki.
Their glances said more than words.
‘Now we start our revolution. Our rebellion. Do what you are supposed to do. Ulf,’ he turned to him. ‘You know the plan.’
‘Hey,’ impresario shouted out. ‘You little morons, to work!’
They turned their heads to him.
Alaric paved his way through the crowd and appeared just in front of the impresario. That one leaned back cautiously.
Alaric stared at him with red eyes. He didn’t say a word. It was silent. Dark tranquility that devoured the circus.
The bear’s husking.
‘The day is coming,’ quietly said Alaric 
‘What day?’ asked the impresario carefully.
‘The day, when you follow Nobel.’
‘Nobel? Who is Nobel?’
‘It is bad for you if I don’t know him.’ He grinned and turned around. ‘To work, guys!’ He said to the midgets.
They exchanged glances and went apart. Alaric came to the cage. He stared the bear for a while. Then he leaned forward and whispered.
‘Are you ripe for revolution?’
The bear didn’t move. Heavy breathing.
‘Today you will taste a human,’ said Alaric.





















MACABER

In a camp:
We like to be a part of nature but we don’t like its laws.

Without a least doubt I crossed the last boundary. I killed two men for a loaf of bread.
We managed to steal a loaf. We were three. Having found a safe place we were about to terminate that bread when suddenly two men assigned to the kitchen caught us dividing the bread.
‘You give the bread or I report you.’ One of them said.
We had no choice. I agreed and held out the bread. He reached the hand out to take it. I hit him against the head bringing him to the ground. The other one reacted too late. The dog shoved him. I took the stone and hit them both to death. I didn’t think much. I had to react otherwise we would have been reported.
We pushed the bread into our mouths as quick as possible. Having exchanged glances, without any word said, we took them both at legs and dragged them to the heap with corps. Wardens never got suspicious watching someone dragging someone. People, fortunately, died every day. Thus, those two were just another ones who perished slaving over stones, rails or something else. No one cared.
Laying on the bunk I went through the scene again and again. With a puddle I smashed two heads without any linger and doubt. Don’t think my pulse increased much. It was like hammering nails in a wall. Besides, my companions didn’t look shocked and frightened. Putting that in a few words – not a big deal. I reckoned on the reasons and concluded that it hadn’t evoked any emotions just because the death was the most common thing here. Anyway, it wasn’t the extreme boundary. Meanwhile. I haven’t tasted a human.
What does human’s life cost?
A loaf costs two humans. Devaluation. I see deaths every day. I see murders every day. I hear moaning and outcries in the middle of the nights. I see black bags with someone’s raw bones. It is hunger what devaluates us.
I have spent here about four years. For that time about fifty newcomers have been eaten. It is a high number but that is the number I know about. How many of them have been eaten somewhere beyond the barrack walls. That is a way we are supposed to overcome. At first you feel bad conscience about your comrade’s slice of bread you stole. Then you take his life. You eat him.
I watch Molch striding with his eyes walking over our heads. Passing by the corps heap he couldn’t but see those fractured skulls. Someone killed someone for another piece of stale bread. He shakes his head smiling. He is not a kind of bloody sadist beating off to corps photos. He smiles cause another fractured skull is just another proof of his philosophy.
‘That is why I like this camp. It reveals a human’s nature.’
It is a reign of despair. The only law states - to eat or to be eaten. You have no clue about real value of a fucking slice of bread if you don’t kill for that. You got no clue about life if you never felt the smell of cannibals’ decaying mouths. You got to put things into perspective. You learn appreciating through comparison. You don’t conceive the warmth if you don’t learn the cold.
There is an exception. If you live in permanent madness you don’t enjoy normality. You just don’t know what normality is. It is not rare when madness becomes your normality.

























JACK

A lie needs a disguise. A truth is naked. In the course of stepping ahead a lie needs a disguise less and less till it stops being embarrassed about its nakedness.

 July, 1

I have taken three glasses of whiskey and wagered on two matches. As anticipated I got in minus again. One bet lost, one won.
Unfortunately, Ull isn’t here. So I just watch another game and drink my whiskey. Anyway I don’t feel like having a conversation and don’t feel being that lonely cause that damned shadow is sitting in the caf; on the opposite side of the street surveilling me. Surely, he doesn’t see me at the moment but still I am not that happy having such a friend tracking me like a stupid game. 
It is about eight and I am going to visit the swan lake park. I pay for whiskey and noble treatment what makes me feel homelike here and go to WC. No matter how hard I am trying to give my face a sound complexion by washing it several times I still look exactly like a wasted drug dealer.
I leave the bookery and head to the bus station located within a minute walk. The shadow is kind of leisurely following me keeping a certain distance but fortunately the bus happened to be my saving boot having separated our ways.
The whole way in the bus I am conceiving the scope of desperation increasing in me with every minute. I have to state the fact that I am nearing the inevitable collapse. Every step I do I am like forced to do. Like a deviated asshole I follow one direction but hopefully and sorrowfully looking into the opposite. Thus, passing the square I unwillingly fix my eyes on the big screen where in the nearest future everyone will watch me hanging another enemy of the nation.  The alter ego asks me – have you already thought about the escape?
I am thinking. Maybe too much.  If I understand the situation right – I am gazing into the abyss full of angst to make a step into extinction driven by subconscious desire to die. I am just figuring out how it would be possible to disappear and where. Either under or over the wall.
The swan lake park.
I found her sitting on the same bench.
‘You are becoming a frequent guest.’
‘The ducks need me.’
For a moment I forgot about the escape. I need a female warmth. She is attracting me but I don’t figure out why.
‘I have a question. Strange and serious. But to ask that, I have to ask you another question. A stranger one.’
Whiskey portions have been larger than usual. I feel as if I have taken more than...maybe I took four instead of three.
‘You must have taken whiskey again?’
I nodded.
‘I have bet twice.’
‘Lost?’
‘And won, but…doesn’t matter.’
She gave me a piece of bread. I broke a smaller one and threw it into the flock.
‘Are they really so serious?’
She looked at me smiling.
‘The questions? Yes. Pretty serious.’
You never know a woman’s reaction for such a question I am going to ask. I have scrutinized everything in radius of thirty meters once again to make sure we are alone here. We are alone.
‘So?’ her look a bit worried.
She might be supposing I mean our relations. Something like “I am married, have three children and would like to keep our love in secret”.
‘Well, it is a quite stressed job to murder people and…so…’ I am fumbling, it is not easy to ask the question I want. ‘How to say, I got sexual problems.’
‘It is affirmative.’ She said.
I nodded. I hope she would catch the idea I am transmitting.
‘I mean, would you;’
‘ I am getting what you mean. It is a strange, this question.’
‘I know, to avoid duality I had better ask you the second question.’
She wanted to say something but looked at me a bit of worried.
‘Yesterday I spoke to an exorcist, a sentenced exorcist.’
She rounded up her eyes.
‘An exorcist? I was sure they don’t exist.’
She is so surprised. I have elaborated a trick! Asking a serious question say something shocking.
‘I thought that once too but they exist, at least one. You know, his name is Iacobus.’
‘A strange one.’
‘He is an extraordinary one, so I wouldn’t be surprised as of his name,’ I smiled
She did it as well.
‘He killed a man during the exorcism and was sentenced. I am supposed to execute him. He is a good man, but he believes he is doomed to wage a spiritual war, it is pretty complicated. Today, in the cell, I visited him to inform him about the date and time of his execution. It is going to be on Friday. He asked me about my mental state.’
I looked at her.
‘How can I execute someone who cares about my mental state?’
‘But it isn’t just about him. It has been accumulating for such a long time and…he…he was like the last drop. Besides, I visited the man…I would say a very important one. He told me his story. Sometimes they tell you stories you’d better never hear.’
I break a piece of bread and feed it to the nearest duck. Then I look around once again. I have seen no one.
‘I am sorry, Joy, to tell you that, but the question I want to ask you…it is about…it is just hard to proceed like that anymore. So, would you…Have you ever thought, I mean seriously, about the escape?’
I doesn’t catch her reaction cause I catch something else. It is him. The bench just under the tree. I could miss him there. He look like a shadow. He is called a shadow for a reason. That moment I see that with my own eyes. This fucking trilby. My eyes caught him just after I said “the escape”. It is mystical but I have seen him already twice. The first time it was when the idea of escape just struck me first, and the second time was when I pronounced this word.
‘I thought,’ echoed in my head.
I took my eyes from him to her. Then back to him. A flash in my head. What if she could be threatened…?
‘But it looks like impossible.’
She is right. To leave the state you can only via air. Thus, the only way to hijack a plane. We both are not pilots, so…
‘ That is why I ask about my sexual problems. Would you escape, if you knew that I…we;’
She smiled.
‘I am really sorry,  forget that!’
I am burning out. With every minute I am smoldering. A poisonous smoke makes me talk about my sexual problem to a teacher who I know for a couple of days. It must be a sign.
I have to tell her about Winston. I am a fucking master of choosing topics to speak.
‘Winston’
She got frozen. What is she expecting me to say? He is alive and soon comes back. He is dead. He joined the rebels and so on. What?
‘Is he alive?’
‘He was executed. At first, he was sent to a labor camp. Then…he was executed two years ago.’
I stopped. I wanted to avoid mentioning an executor. I focused on the result.
She turned away. The hand to the face.
All I used to tell people is death. An appropriate job for me is a ferryman carrying souls of the newly deceased…
She is crying. And me  - I got sexual problems. What the hell made me talk about that now!
I embraced her. I was about to embrace a man who I am gonna executed. I am embracing a girl of a man who I executed. Isn’t that to bear the responsibility?
Now…the shadow is watching us. He must be thinking that we are two lovers being about to follow different ways. Either he is sympathizing recalling his romantic days or damning his bosses who make him spend precious time for these sloppy scenes. A true grit man hired to detect threats to the state and nation is contemplating that scene on the bench and might be asking himself – what the threat can that person with a greyish face and crying girlfriend constitute to the state?
Fuck him, anyway!
‘I know, that he was punished just because he hadn’t given up his friends. They thought he was participating.’
Creating a hero. All the words are redundant. Especially if I am a talker. I have no idea how to console. It is better for me just to keep my mouth shut. If an escape, how if not via air…
‘There is a pub near my home.’
I didn’t answer. I used to take whiskey after embracing people. The shadow is still there under the tree. Who is that man? As all those who I have executed he has a life, he has an identity. The man without face. Without name. Without identity?
All the way in a bus she is gazing into the window. Emotionless. I am keeping silent. If she only knew that her man’s executioner is just sitting next to her…I never pleaded morality.
‘I have been here only a couple of times,’ she said when we were entering the pub.
We came to the bar counter and ordered four glasses whiskey. The first she swallowed without a linger. I followed.
‘What would we do if we managed to?’
‘No idea.’
‘Do you know what is behind the;’
‘Absolutely no idea. This knowledge is not much greeted here, you know.’
‘Maybe you got acquaintances who;’
I shook my head.
‘Those who know are not here. I mean, if someone would manage to.’
‘I see,’  she said and emptied the other glass. I followed.
Then we ordered two more. Then again two.
‘There was a time, Jack, when I didn’t care what was happening around. I was just a happy teen. A quite clear future. You know what you are to do, how to live…you know it.’
The last what she managed to say was like:
‘What the use of teaching children without future for a state without future.’
In an hour she is drunk dead. I ask her about the address but it is a sequence of words attempted. I searched for the pass in her bag. She is located really not far. Just a hundred meters.
In the beginning of the day I couldn’t assume that the coming night I would spend at Joy. If I were overly optimistic to assume that it would come to my mind something else but watching Joy sleeping being deadly drunk.
A dream date. People are usually so excited before going to date because they are planning some continuation. It is like what is gonna be after the cinema…First kiss? How would i manage? What will we speak about? And so on.
If you knew that you would watching her sleeping being deadly drunk…you wouldn’t be so nervous.
I fall asleep. Deep and sound. It is a rare case for me.
I wake up at 6.37. An hour in the morning is equal to two hours in the evening. Someone said, others picked up. That man might have a sarcastic sense of humor or he just meant something else but formulated it wrong.
She is still sleeping. I am not sure she used to wake up after a sound drunk sleep. I go to the kitchen. American breakfast? It is all I can. I will make for two.
Let her have good recollections about me. I am not just a glass of whiskey.
Eggs, bacon and bread. Accompanied by coffee but it will be already cold when she has woken up.
At cooking I just remembered what Vincent said to me yesterday.
The midget circus. Ask Ulf.
I should confess…before…if I talked to a midget he was fastened to the chair. It is everything else but pleasant recollections. Whatever.
I make two portions. I have eaten mine. A cup of coffee.
I looked at her. She is still sleeping or pretending to be. I closed the door as quiet as possible.
The midget circus.




INTERROGATION

‘The law enforcement regularly upped the norm of executions per months, quarter and year.’
‘Vincent Oakman was hanged in public. Have you watched the broadcast?’
The interviewers nodded.
‘Wasn’t that the referendum you needed so much? People were asked what they would like to watch on a Friday night? They said they wanted hanging. More than one hundred thousand came there to eye the execution. For the money you all invested in that execution you could build up a new modern medical center but you made a choice.’
‘We don’t speak now about moral substance? It is not about a wish to watch violent content. The question is the norm of approved executions. The law enforcement was regularly increasing it on your approval.’
‘It was meant to decongest the state's prisons and camps.’
‘Isn’t it a regime of terror? Isn’t that the extreme point of totalitarian mayhem?’
‘It was a necessary measure.’
‘Necessity? It was a crime against the humanity.’
General’s condescending smile.
‘You like so much these dramatic emotional formulations. Emotionality is the enemy of rationality. Remember labyrinth riddles. It is a widely known fact that the underground had drastically expanded and was getting out of the control. Too many explosions, armed attacks. We had to take measures. It was necessity. What is the most effective measure against guerilla warfare? Atrocities carried out against the civilian population. For you to understand, if you don’t damage my infrastructure and don’t endanger my family, I don’t touch your families. Wouldn’t it be rational from your side to stop that bloody mayhem they used to wage? A damaged infrastructure demands additional investments. You shouldn’t wonder if the taxes get increased.’
‘Have you ever asked yourself how many innocent people have become victims of these uppings? How many deaths you have approved?’
‘You know the law enforcement has an open portal where all the news are transmitted to the population and where people are free to comment them, aren’t you?’
‘We know, it is mockery. No one dares criticize the enforcement unless they want to end up in a camp.’
‘Right you are but there is one more thing to mention. No one has ever enquired about the reasons because no one ever cared about them. The elite writes a law, a middle class confirms it cause it is eating from elite’s hands and what is about the poor? Someone is supposed to be executed. The problem is that someone took a role of a middle class and decided that his neighbor is an unworthy rag. In other words, you have done it yourself. I just gave you an idea.’

ARTICLE

Article Midget throws child into bear’s chaws!
People were petrified with horror after the bear massacre they have witnessed during another the midget circus show. Some of them couldn’t speak at all. Shock. Children in tears. Adults couldn’t still believe what they have seen.
“I am still seeing that. That child hanging from the bear’s chaws. The bear just ripped him apart. So massive! I saw his white bones broken by the chaws! ” one of the witnesses said crying.
“It is the most terrific death I have ever experienced!” said another witness. 
It was the act known as “bear’s hunger”. A tribe of midgets is being attacked by a bear. They start running from him around the stage and then all they disappear in secret holes mounted in the side guard of the stage. This act is considered the most dangerous and dramatic in the whole program. The impresario emphasized that the act is the best seller.
“The safety system is a strong point. Until today the viewers have never been threatened. Absolutely zero incidents, but today it was not the safety though…Everyone has seen. No comments. Fucking midgets! ”, the security chief commented.
In the middle of the act when the midgets started running away the bear, one of them allegedly in a fit of rage grabbed a child and just threw him into bear’s claws. The bear hit the boy immediately and ripped him apart in just seconds. The bear destroyed his head and back, ripped out his arm and leg. No chances to escape. It was a pure horror!
However a certain man tried to save the child out of midgets arms but failed. It is said the midget broke his arm and hit his head with his leg.
According to the witnesses the midget was lightning fast. He jumped up to the boy in a sec and grabbed him so quick that his parents couldn’t do a thing.
“This man tried to rip the boy out of his arms, but that midget broke his hand. I heard a crack!” Samantha, a witness, said being on edge and wiping away tears.
The photographer positioned some far from the incident managed to take some photos depicting the midget throwing the boy into bear’s claws.
“I couldn’t believe what was going on thru the lens! I couldn’t believe! It was so surrealistic! So dramatic!”, he said.
The officials made attempts to come up the bear but the bear gave them no chance. As soon as they have managed to get the boy he has been already ripped apart. They started shooting it with tranquilizers but it took time till they worked. When the bear fell down asleep the child has been already dead.
“Tranquilizer shooting is an efficient thing, it really works but not for such cases. ” said one of the shooters, “cause it takes time till it works. Clear, that it doesn’t suit to this case. We are left no options to fire real bullets cause...we are instructed to act like that”
The mother of the child were crying and tried to get into the fenced stage but security officer took her and didn’t let her go. She just had to watch how bear’s massive jaws and teeth - capable of crushing steel - sank into the child. 
The midgets rushed into their safety holes and no one of them didn’t make any attempt to save the child. The poor kid was left alone with the bear. No chance. 'The bear was standing over him and throwing him back and forth ripping with razor-sharp claws apart.
Horrendous!
As for the midget who threw the child.
The midget was immediately taken by the officers.
“At the end we had to defend him from fierce crowd. People were craving to rip him apart the same as the bear did to child but we had to follow the instructions. You know, the little beast is supposed to be executed according to the law. ” said one of the officers.
It is right. The midget must be executed according to the law.
“His eyes, they were red with rage!”
“It was devil in midget’s body!”
“I have never seen such a beast! ”
They all said that about the midget.
“As you know, we have repeatedly expressed our requirements to tighten the midgets’ living and working conditions. It is defined scientifically that the midgets are uncontrollable and dangerous for our society. We will plead further for the right of immediate shooting of the midgets if their behavior seems to be getting out of control. I honestly see no other way to harness them. They are wild, they are beasts. Today we are planning to start scientific research to proof that the midgets are not humans and consequently can be treated like wild animals which can threaten human’s life if not strictly controlled” the head of the culture bureau announced.
According to the latest data people demand the public execution of the midget broadcasted on TV. The research shows that a certain part would like to see the midget dismembered. However, it is the law enforcement who declares a sentence and the way of execution.








JACK

When facing your slaves be ready for unprecedented roughness and obvious penchant for unreasonable ferocity and violence. Whatever you see, you have to accept that you are that one who developed that evil in them.

July, 2

The midget circus. The place with strong but black vibe. A midget fed a bear with a child. It’s not going to evaporate soon. However, the circus isn’t closed. They work as usual. Moreover, there are tickets for tonight. Come and see. Everyone knows that A Bear’s Hunger is not to miss. A real wild bear tries to catch the midgets running around and tear them apart. People love blood and ferocity. The wilder the better. I have never seen the show and honestly never wanted.
I went to the backdoor, where the midgets were unloading boxes with tomatoes. It looked quite ridiculous – the boxes were so massive in relation to the midgets. Two men for a box.
‘May I help you?’ a certain man, not a midget, supposedly their chief, came up to me.
‘I need a certain Ulf.’
He rounded up his eyes and told in a flurry:
‘You must be from the police concerning the accident?’
I nodded.
‘Investigation.’
‘Do you need him for interrogation? I am sorry, but I have to know because he works for me.’
‘You are right, some questions.’
‘I will find him immediately. They all look suspicious last days. I think you should know that. Please, take you time and don’t hesitate to treat them harder, but please, tonight we have the show so…we need him. Ok, I find him.’
He disappeared. He spoke so fast that I seemingly haven’t caught everything what he said. A bad impression. He remembered me Alex. The same type. He must be a local bastard number one. In a couple of minutes he came back followed by a midget.
‘This is Ulf.’
I looked at Ulf. He looked at me. A rigorous midget with quite a rough glance. Such guys didn’t use to be kidding much. I reached my hand to him. He hesitated for a moment and shook it.
‘So, please take your time and remember what I have told you.’
He has barely left but turned back to me:
‘We have a good place for you for tonight’s show.’
‘Thank you but I am too busy today.’
‘Ok, so I let you both.’
‘Thank you.’
He looked at Ulf. Then at me again.
‘Well, I am leaving, so much work to do.’
I smiled as if approved. He left.
‘I got not much to say,‘ Ulf wasn’t too emotional. ‘Spare your time.’
‘You don’t sound friendly, fella.’
He visually estimated me. Surely skeptical.
‘What do you want from me?’ He sounded like a condemned one.
‘I really don’t know. I got a message for you, if you are that Ulf?’
He narrowed his eyes.
‘I am Ulf.’
‘Vincent is greeting you.’
‘Vincent? Who is that?’
‘I believe you might know him.’
‘Surely not. I should say I don’t have many acquaintances. To be more precise, no one behind the circus.‘
‘Vincent told me – find Ulf and say plan b.’
His glance became intense and strained.
‘Follow me.’
He led me right behind the cage with the bear.
‘Is that the bear who;’
‘Yes. It is him.’
The bear was scrutinizing me and husking. I was an  alien.
‘So, why am I here?’
‘Who are you?’
‘Call me Jack. it is my true name, don’t worry, I am not your enemy.’
‘I heard something like Vincent is jailed.’
‘I am his executioner.’
He was taken aback by these words.
‘You should know, Ulf, I am a state executioner. I am executing people and I am supposed to execute Vincent. I see your astonishment but you don’t have to be like that. If I were your enemy I wouldn’t know the password, right?’
Uncertainty in his eyes.
‘I am not familiar with plan b, but I would like to. Somehow Vincent trusts me. I firstly met him only in the jail but we had enough time to converse. If he sent me here he must be sure I should know something. That is why I am asking you, Ulf, tell me what is plan b?’
He listened to me quite attentively.
‘I don’t really see you role,’ he fumbled. ‘But…Have you heard about Alaric?’
‘Certainly not.’
‘Ok, but you have heard that a certain midget killed a child recently?’
‘Everyone has.’
‘His name is Alaric. Namely Alaric started working on plan b. We started. Then Vincent joined us.’
He stopped talking and scanned the room.
‘I have to warn you. Just from the moment I have told you what plan b is you got no option but to become a part of the plan. If you ask, you don’t have options anymore because you know that such a plan exists and you know who is involved.’
Hard to say. I work for the investigation, so I will have to lead a double game. If I am ready for that… Of course, my shadow. It makes the deal a bit more complicated. I am hesitating. I want, but I am hesitating.
‘And?’ He interrupted my pondering.
I started shaking my head.
‘I want,’ however not quite sure that I am ready for that.
‘Vincent is taken. Alaric is taken. The child murder is the first step. The impulse given by Alaric. He is the founder. He is the leader, but he is taken. That is I take over the responsibility for the plan. For you to know, plan b is a plan to demolish the state, to destroy the regime. It seems to me that Vincent sent you here because he sees you as a remarkable part. Somehow it looks like strange because you are our potential enemy but on the other hand you are our man in the ranks of the enemy.’
‘Why plan b? is plan a a failure?’
‘There is only one plan, that is b. if you had said plan a it would mean that either Vincent or Alaric were tortured and to inform us about a possible raid they would say plan a. got it?’
‘Plan a means to get under the radar and b is;’
‘Attack’
‘I gave a signal?’
He nodded.
‘And it means Vincent considers you a reliable part of the plan.’
I sat down in a small chair. Yesterday I thought about an escape. I felt weak and helpless. I made a breakfast for a girl whose man I executed a long time ago. Now…I am told I am supposed to do something for what I used to execute people.
‘I see you expected something else.’
I nodded.
‘Somehow, Ulf. I went here to know some secret but I have become a part of revolution.’
‘A secret?’
‘You are the only person, Ulf, who can answer the question disturbing me for several months.’
‘If you don’t lie, you got problems.’
‘Why?’
‘Do you hear what you are talking? A midget you know several minutes is the only one who can answer a disturbing question?’
He was right. It looked irrational. Pretty interesting observation, I should say. We live in absolutely rational world. All we do is quite predictable and expectable to a certain extent but still no one would say that they live in an irrational world. In the world behind the looking glass. Things are running right in the way they are supposed to be and suddenly a midget you know for a couple of minutes reveals to you an utter irrationality that you consider like absolute normality. That is why from time to time it is healthy to question reasonability and rationality of things you do, you see and you hear.
‘Recently I have received a short letter with dubious content.’
‘People used to write letters.’
‘You got what I mean.’
‘I got but I don’t write letters.’
‘No doubt. There is a black dust on it.’
‘You think in a right direction but I don’t know who write them. You don’t get much from me on this point. I am not informed about that. I just know there are letters. Many letters?’
‘Quite.’
He nodded.
‘You are on demand. We need people from the enforcement. You will get more letters. As far as I see you are hesitating but I can tell you something. The underground is deeper and wider that you think.’
You don’t believe in things you don’t see. The world population is divided into those who believes in God and who don’t. Belief isn’t a rational thing. If there are no facts, no proofs and no clear evidences it lacks credibility. That is why it is said that people with a high IQ tend to be atheists. Thus I have to admit a strange thing – I don’t believe in God who billions of people believe in but at the same time I tend to believe a midget with radical attitudes who no one would ever believe.
‘Everything has a sort of predestination. We aren’t born for nothing. That is what I believe. If something should happen, it should happen now and here. I don’t accept any different presuppositions. You are becoming a part of it. People will speak about you as about a destroyer of all evil and founder of all good.’
He sounded persuasive.
‘You should know that because of Vincent I am shadowed.’
‘Shadowed?!’
‘Vincent’s case is a top priority now that is why I am shadowed as an executioner of the enemy number one. ‘
He sat down.
‘So, they know you are here.’
‘I think so.’
‘The impresario believes you are here as an investigator so the shadow man might be supposing you;’
‘He must be informed about my case, so I am not supposed to be here. I am in charge for Vincent not for Alaric.’
‘We have to…use the imagination, Jack, otherwise;’
‘I see…let it be my problem, Ulf. Tell me, what is plan b? what are you going to do?’
He stood up and came to the cage. For a couple of minutes he didn’t pronounce a word not make a movement. Stoned in front of the bear.
‘I can’t tell you all. The first step is to take control over the canalization and drinking water sources. We act underground. Otherwise we don’t have any chances. We have to be very very careful. We got enough explosives to demolish all important objects. But for that we need the sewers.’
‘What is my task?’
He turned to me.
‘I really can’t say now. For that you need to talk to Vincent. If he told you to come here so he surely has a vision of your part in the plan. You are involved but how…when do you visit Vincent?’
‘Thursday.’
‘Today is Tuesday, as far as I can see we are supposed still to work on the sewer points as planned.’
He came back to his chair.
‘I don’t know anything about Alaric.’
Now he looked a bit suppressed.
‘He is my brother. They got him and no one here knows what they are going to do with him.’
‘For sure he will be executed.’
‘He knew what he was doing,’ He said quietly. ‘He knew, but is it possible I never see him again?’
I didn’t have much to say. Again I informed someone about someone’s death.
‘I have to see him!’
I just looked at him listening, but I couldn’t say a thing. I knew that he would never see him again. As far as midgets is concerned they used to be executed without much said. They were never treated like normal people. “Burn it down!” they even addressed midgets like it. I don’t think Alaric is going to be given some privileges.
Ulf were sitting with his head in his hands. I didn’t see many ways to console him. I wasn’t sure I could.
‘Ulf, I will try my best to know what expecting him there, I promise I will try.’
‘Can you visit him?’
‘No, surely no.’
‘Why? You are a state executioner, aren’t you?’
‘I am not assigned to him.’
Now it came to my mind, what if I ask the bureau to take over his case after I am done with the exorcist. A good idea, but not sure they give me.
‘I will certainly do my best to know something about him. Besides, Ulf,’ He glanced at me. ‘I can make an attempt to take over his case, but;’
‘Do it!’
‘I am not sure they will give me. It would look suspicious especially if they know I was here and talked to you.’
He shook his head.
‘Just try, it is…anyway I would be much obliged if you could…but try, please. He is my brother. We all here would appreciate your help.’
He reached me his small hand.
I shook it. A firm handshake.
The shadow was right there. On the other side of the street. Even in a daytime his face was not to distinguish. He didn’t try to be invisible. Somehow he was sure that I wouldn’t come up to him with a concrete question. He was because it would be silly. I come up to him and say something like “who are you?” or else. Pure paranoia.
Just now, in the moment of illumination, in the moment when I definitely breached the law by joining the revolution, one of those highly praised armed groups I felt an unknown internal burning. That burning is getting more vibrant if the shadow is gazing at me from the other side of the street. From now on it is a sort of all-in. I clearly understand that from that moment on I am a candidate for the chair. It is something what is really hard to conceive.
To eat or to be eaten.
I decided to visit Hank and get informed about Alaric. Maybe I could get his case. It would be a great wager won. Besides, there was just a half an hour to go.
So, especially now, what could I really lose? If I get revealed I have a place to hide.




















MACABER

In a camp:
The more you count days the longer they are getting

Evil always conquers good. We used to be taught the opposite but it’s been a part of conventional upbringing with a fairy-taled groundwork. The truth is evil conquers good. Evil is too clever and good is too na;ve. Once I happened to read memoirs, an extract if to be honest, of a SS-officer. He wrote that wherever he was mobilized he always had a book in his baggage. He decline of the west. They had a habit to be clever. A rule of a war.
If I entered Molch’s office, no doubt, I would find there something of the kind. He doesn’t speak much making an impression of a courteous person. Don’t confuse courtesy with benevolence. You wouldn’t distinguish any sign and penchant for violence or sadism in his behavior and manner of speaking but somehow you feel it. The vibe. A master of the art at the conveying ideas and intentions dressed in a noble courtesy.
‘Macaber,’ he never put on a wide smile preferring a moderate one as if showing that benevolence but it surely wasn’t.
‘In six months you are free,’ shaking his head appreciating. ‘I feel obliged to confess that you are that rare case. I shall be honest with you. Only fifteen percent survive here. You deserve respect, Macaber. Your appearance has always been that poor but you still with your head held high. Nevertheless, there is a long way for you to complete. I hope, you do it.’
First of all, he wasn’t congratulating me but somehow he encouraged to a certain extent. he knew that counting days evoked hope you would better avoid. That hope puts strains on you. Every day is stretching. Minutes become hours. You start feeding your fears not to reach the end point. You are afraid to die and that makes you vulnerable here. Contemplating a camp routine he couldn’t but conceive it. The more you are a human the more likely you perish on the way to the long-desired freedom. It is essential that you take the attitude of treating things in the manner as an animal left for dead would treat.
Nip every hope in the bud. Cruelly. Otherwise the burden you bear is getting heavier with every step.
I am waking up in the nights and hearing moaning, talking in a dream, mutual encouraging that everything will be good and they both will come home. Bullshit. These encouragement has nothing to do with the moral. A defense mechanism of human psycho. A rudimental reaction to fear rooted in human DNA. Hearing a newcomer’s outcry you start reiterating mantra that you are destined to survive.
Champing. Squelching. Chewing. A raw meat from the hips. Fear sharpens you senses. You hear like a mouse. You smells like a dog. You feel electromagnetic iterations. You imagination fuels your fear getting you mad with horror. Someone’s blood is dropping on the floor inflaming your cerebral condition.
We got another guy joined to our brigade. I placed him on the bunk over mine and warned him to stay awake the first night. We saved his life or just prolonged his suffering. I don’t know. He told me that the underground is getting plunged into a severe turmoil. Explosions. Armed attacks. Casualties. Murders.
I looked at the dog. I have never seen so much determination in his eyes.
‘I have never heard anything better.’ He said.
As for me. I know what I am going to do once I will have left the camp. As that wise bastard Molch said:
‘The enemy is vitally important. If you don’t have one create it.’





















JACK

I wouldn’t let the dog play with my children if I daily feed it raw meet.

July, 2

If only knew that while Ulf was getting me acquainted with plan b it was storming and thundering in the magister’s office.
Hank. The colonel. There had been hot days for him before he got assigned to the investigational bureau into the executional department. Was he an executioner? No but he had had to execute so called war criminals and enemies taken. As for executions Hank used to say:
“At eye level”
It meant that he would participate in execution only if a person supposed to be executed would be a worthy man. It never depended on ranks but naturally only on worthiness.
As a warlord he could never suppose that he would end up in an office by talking about execution of citizens and midgets.
The magister. It wasn’t much said about him. A shadow behind the scenes. Hank said he thought he knew who the magister had been before the assignment. However, the magister is a sacred mystery. It should be mentioned that the magister is said not to have any friends, acquaintances and relatives just because they all had accidentally died. They all knew him but died. Such things happen…you know health, heart attacks and so on.
The third person in the magister’s office was a certain man from the city channel. Doesn’t matter. Maybe Paul’s chief or Paul’s chief’s chief.
The point is that the moment I was following Ulf walking behind the bear’s cage Hank received a call. He stood up and left his office with Alex reading another report showing my incompatibility with the position and responsibility placed on me.
In the magister’s office Hank joined an extraordinary conversation between two puppeteers. The second one was a man seemingly of fifty years old though looking not bad at all. Hank used to think that all puppeteers looked like that because they were never nervous while making decisions about soldiers’ lives sitting in warm chairs and talking about politics.
‘Hank, sit down, there are some changes.’
‘I would say amendments,’ said the channel man.
Hank sat down. He was pretty fed up with changes and amendments taken every hour.
The magister continued.
‘As you know, Hank, Vincent Oakman’s hanging will be broadcasted on the central channel.‘
Hank nodded looking askew at the channel man.
‘It is a closed point. Mister Oakman is today the enemy number one and people want to see him hanged. Now he is top rated personality. It would be a remarkable financial lose to execute him as a usual criminal.’
‘Now it is being negotiated. He shows readiness to give names. That is why we cannot still define the date,’ the magister said to the channel man.
‘Somehow we can, today is Tuesday. You informed me that your man will speak to Vincent Oakman once again at Thursday. That means that Thursday is the last day.’
‘The third visit,’ confirmed the magister. ‘The last one.’
‘That is right,’ agreed the channel man. ‘So, proceeding from this fact we can definitely affirm that the execution will be carried out next week. Then, our searching reports say that the best time to cover the hanging is Friday. Eight o’clock. So I have directed that Mister Oakman’s execution will be broadcasted on Friday at eight o’clock in the evening.’
‘And the place,’ said the magister.
‘Yes,’ continued the channel man. ‘The place is defined. It is the central city stadium.’
‘The colosseum?’ asked Hank.
‘Namely,’ the channel man.
‘One hundred thousand people inside and millions at their TVs. Mindblowing profits are expected.’
Hank nodded and was about to say “yes sir” and inform me about the date and time of the execution.
‘It is all clear, Hank,’ the magister cut in. ‘But it is another thing I called you to come.’
All three men exchanged glances as if they all concealed something from the fourth. It looked so silly and ridiculous that Hank wanted just to ask them both what the fuck was going on, but the channel man was ahead.
‘This midget.’
‘The midget who killed a child, you must have heard,’ the magister addressed Hank.
Hank nodded.
‘I heard.’
And took his eyes at the channel man.
‘This midget is hated even more than Mister Oakman. My researches say that people want to watch him suffer.’
Hank looked at the magister. It was a silent question.
‘Hank, they want to see his hanging as well.’
‘Mister Magister, as far as I see, I am to assign another person for the midget’s hanging. It is clear. Just, tell me the date.’
‘You understand right, Hank, but it is not absolutely like that. We want to hang them both together.’
Hank’s silent question “what the fuck is going on” was still actual.
‘Actually, my researches say people want to watch him dismembered but we have to act strategically. It means that the level of cruelty should increase step by step. At first, we hang them, then we dismember. People should get used to controlled cruelty. Besides, my analytics affirm that in the medium and long term such a strategy would bring more profits.’
‘So we all win more if the midget will be hanged,’ the magister.
‘However,’ the channel man. ‘We can hope for consistent development only if the first three months at least every two weeks at least one person is hanged.’
Hank looked at them both like at surrealistic characters he watched in his dreams.
Meanwhile, the channel man continued.
‘It would be a remarkable breakthrough for all of us if at first we execute two criminals at once.’
‘Hank,’ said the magister. ‘At first they wanted to broadcast this;’ he couldn’t remember the name and gesticulated to the channel man.
‘Asm d’Eau.’
‘Right!’
‘But his rating fell drastically down after Vincent Oakman stepped on the stage.’
Than it became silent.
‘What is about a date?’ Hank asked.
The magister looked at the channel man.
The channel man looked at Hank. Then back at the magister. He nodded as if having made a final decision.
The magister nodded him back and then looked at Hank.
‘The both are on Friday.’
Hank looked at the channel man and then at the magister once again.
‘As far as I understand, it is gonna be the same executioner?’
‘What do your researchers say?’ the magister addressed the channel man.
The channel man hesitated for a while to answer.
‘You know, it hasn’t been researched. However, I see that it will be the same executioner. And I explain you why. At first sight two variants seem to be rational. But!’
He looked at Hank and the magister with rounded up eyes as if underlining what he was going to say.
‘If they both are hanged by the same executioner we have then a new star to develop what in near future will let us receive profits from his executions. Moreover, we can build something like,’ his eyes walked around the office. ’“execution squad”. People need heroes. In this way they would see the face of the state. They would see how the state battles the enemy.’
The magister started shaking his head intensively.
‘Yes, it will work!’
Hank was looking into nowhere. Void. The only thought – I could die like a soldier, like a war hero, in battle, from the bullet, but I will end up in a circus with the only attraction “lets hang up someone!”.
‘What do you think, Hank?’ Asked the magister.
Hank put his cheek into the hand as people usually do if they are pondering over something or just get perplexed.
‘All I really need to know is a date, time and that an executioner is the same.’
‘That is right, that is right,’ said the magister. ‘As a matter of fact, an executioner, does he have another case?’
‘Yes,’ Hank said.  ‘The midget is going to be the third.’
‘Who is there?’
‘The exorcist, this one who killed a man by blowing his head.’
‘The exorcist?’ exclaimed the channel man.
Hank and the magister looked at him.
‘The exorcist,’ confirmed the magister.
‘It is great, I should say. It sounds mysterious!’
Hank got really worried.
‘People needed that all their history. It is a pure inquisition. The middle ages. Fantastical! Why I didn’t know? It is the thing we need. It is like a good dish that needs some relish that would make it taste extraordinary.’
‘So?’ Hank asked.
‘All three at once! Sure! Such a squad – the enemy number one, the devil in a midget’s body and the exorcist! I already see the show!’
The channel man was excited as never before in his life.
‘I got,’ said Hank to the magister. ‘May I go and inform the executioner and his team?’
‘Yes, Hank,’ said the magister.
‘Wait a while’ said the channel man. ‘From our side we prepare everything for the show. Place, scaffold and so on. Everything will be first class, I guarantee. From your side we expect a highly professional team and executioner who let the nation see how powerful and righteous our state is. But!’
He paused.
‘It seems to me that after all it would be still rational to hang them one after another. Three executions within three weeks.  Do you remember? Step by step. We should keep the audience on a leash. Overindulging doesn’t make any good. Thus, in my opinion, at first goes the executor, then Oakman and finally the midget.’
The magister nodded approvingly.
Hank left the office.
In five minutes he called me and I said to him that I would come into his office in five minutes.


So, I am here. Hank looks tired.
He looks tired because he has just told me the whole story.
To say, that he got me shocked would be to say nothing.
‘All three at once?! Are they gone mad?’
‘I don’t know, Jack, but it is going to be a release for you. As a matter of fact, he changed the opinion. Three executions within three weeks. Fridays. They want to make a start with you. It is a pity, Jack, for me,’ he smiled. ‘In a couple of weeks you are supposed to be only for VIP cases. You are a new Marshall…and me…I won’t have you anymore to dump a couple of hard cases to do.’
‘So, your children are going to watch me as an embodiment of all good?’
He made a heavy breath.
‘Yes, in a couple of months they will broadcast dismembering, Jack. By the way, it is a bad message for you. You will have to dismember if they don’t find someone else for dismembering.’
‘Oh no! Hank! Please everything else but dismembering and skinning!’
‘Still, Jack, it is not upon me to decide. Maybe, then I will do but stand today I am not. Take it as necessary price for being the elite.’
A star executioner puts on the role of a rebel. Fridays, he would execute another one, Tuesdays he would blast another electrical station. In between routine of preparations. He got backed into the corner. A double game. He could become a hero by revealing plan b and shedding light on the underground movement organized by a group of desperate midgets with a pile of canalization explosive points depicted on the plan draft rolled and hidden behind the bear’s cage…A star executioner, a secret agent…it would catapult him on the top of the system…but something itching deep inside made him act on the other side…not that promising one.
‘So, you say Fridays?’ He asked Hank
‘Fridays, prepare them all, take all you can from Vincent. If he is going to delay just inform him about the date. Doesn’t matter. Visit this guy, I mean the midget, such a strange name,’  he was intensely looking through the heap of papers. ‘Got it! Alaric is his name. Take it,’ he let the dossier slide to me. ‘He is expected by such an honor to die in public. They like it, these midgets, they got problems with self-sufficiency.’
I took the dossier. The strength of mind. I just wanted to get the case and I received it without asking it. The wager won. In my hands two dossiers of two most wanted men in the state.
My plan involves the following visits.
Wednesday – I visit Alaric and Iacubus.
Thursday – Vincent. No, Friday is better.
Friday – don’t forget about calling Danny. He will do the preparations and necessary checking of the equipment.
‘One more thing,’ said Hank. ‘One hundred thousand people in the stadium plus millions at their TVs included my family I am afraid. I mean sort out an appropriate suit.’
I casted in my mind what from my wardrobe would suit the occasion. Only two suits could be marked as appropriate ones – my military ceremonial full dress or my dad’s tail coat.
‘Don’t worry. I won’t fail.’
The occasion. If you come to think a bit it scares. I am supposed to have an appropriate suit to hang a man. Is it celebration? Honoring? It is a legal murder. I am a legal murderer acting on behalf of the state. If an official says – kill him – it becomes a legal murder. If people happen to watch it…have a n appropriate suit for the occasion.
I saw a man standing on the bridge. He looked down on the river. The case positioned to his right leg. People were passing by. You wouldn’t pay any attention to him if you were passing by. If you happened to watch the scene this man would stand out. He stopped walking. Maybe tired. Depressed. He put his case with paper work on the ground. The river was so noisy. There was so much power inside. It would just swallow a man. He would feel nothing. He looked down. He needed a minute to think over. A moment to make up his mind. The minutes of desperation.
If I am just watching him coming over the railings and stepping forward into nowhere. Am I a kind of silent executor approving his death?






ARTICLE

The number of suspected terrorists arrested in the south suburban district.
Statistics issued by the central investigative bureau shows that during last 12 months the bureau managed to make 54 arrests of groups and personalities suspected in organization of terroristic acts. 
The last arrest occurred just yesterday. Seven people have been arrested after a series of raids across the suburban districts.
Police told the media that the goal of the attack was to “kill as many people as possible” through the use explosive devices.
“We can be proud of our special assault teams reacting lightning fast on any signal provided by the local surveillance units” said the prosecutor’s office.
“As our informant line informs it was impossible to reveal a precise date of the planned attack. During the arrest it was defined that the terroristic attack had been in the plan final stage ” as says the authorized CIB speaker.
The group had already planned to buy an old school bus to transport the bomb directly into one of the central districts. Allegedly one of the shopping market had been targeted. Just now the investigative bureau is working on revealing their possible connection to explosive materials dealers.
The search found a number of direct evidence in relation to the planned attack. According to the official information it was a solid amount of money in cash, several guns, explosive materials used for constructing explosive devices and even drugs. 
The main suspects are seven men in age from 29 to 37 who had allegedly had already problems with law.
“It means that the court should make more severe decisions. If today a certain young man act against the interests of the state he gets just a couple of years in prison, but tomorrow he is free again and then such terroristic groups are a dime a dozen here, so we have to take the time and effort to check out a possibility of adding greater punitive measures !” said the governor of the City.
The Investigative authorities have foiled a number of potential or planned terror attacks all over the country in recent years. Terror arrests are constantly increasing what means that our investigative bureau and security bureau are collaborating in the most effective way for the good of our safety. 
The state security experts have warned of the threat of increase of aggressive reciprocal radicalization, why these small group are supporting each other financially and ideologically.
These groups are said to have a number of liars across the city. Mainly in suburban areas where the surveillance control is not so strictly organized as in the central part.
According to the information from the City administration, from now on the surveillance control over the non—central districts will be tightened up.
As for the sentences. Life sentences were handed out in 7 cases. All the suspects will be prosecuted and then executed.
As the execution bureau announced they are  successfully executing more people than ever before, but they are not going to stop on that and ready to increase the number of executions – helping to keep the our state safe.”
























INTERROGATION

‘Loan policy.’
‘What exactly are you worried about?’
‘The state loan policy drove people into slavery.’
‘Really? Would you be so kind to give me a couple of examples?’
‘Women had to work for bordellos to cover up mortgages. Men went down into the underground.’
‘Bordellos? Who were the clients?’
‘The point is loan policy.’
‘I see. I can fully agree on the point that loans were really high. Perhaps, it is going on about financial policy that is surely not my responsibility but however I admit it. But you, acting as a prosecutor in the actual circumstances, don’t you want to address the end consumer? Tell me, why you go there and pay for sexual services they provide. You, I don’t mean you personally, know that those girls have to settle back-breaking mortgage. You are sympathizing with them but nevertheless you were availing yourselves fully of the services provided by those girls.’
‘We see where you are going to, but the loan policy we speak about weren’t valid without your approvals.’
‘This loan policy wouldn’t have been a success without your financial support and your readiness to use those girls. Your readiness to treat them like sexual slaves was a decisive precondition for the policy applied. Bordello, a tool to make slaves, wouldn’t have made profits, if you hadn’t brought your money there.  Adopting every law we searched for the lines of the least resistance. The loadstar principle was to put a knife into your hand. The rest you would do yourself. According to the fact that right in the moment you are interrogating me I can conclude that it used to work out.’
‘Anyway, again apart from the moral side you appeal to, you confirm that the policy was developed with intention to get people slaved.’
‘To a certain extent yes, but the root idea was that a middle class would willingly and with great gratitude do it with their own hands. That is. The scope is up to you.’
‘And the undergrounds?’
‘Ask the miners they would say to you that they were unwanted everywhere. Ask the owners. They didn’t let them in cause they scared the customers with thinner wallets. You have created a cheap market for them. So, you see, you degraded them with your own hands without any orders coming from the top. I repeat once again – the scope is up to you.’


JACK

The first goes a human. A human is followed by a family. Then it comes to a tribe. The last comes a nation in the form of a state. There is no state, no sound society possible without its elementary particle – a human. That is why a human is the last to neglect.

July, 4

My dad’s tail coat. He was a man of strict manners and conservative style. He died when I wasn’t really aware what death was. All he left behind  was a tail coat and recollections. The recollections have been consistently evaporating resulted in an empty store in my head. In years the tail coat will be all I have after my dad. He used to be a solid guy with clear life philosophy of a mentally steady man. So, far away from me. The people who used to appreciate a good craftsmanship wouldn’t rate high using chairs and electricity for killing people.
Nietzsche considered a human a bridge to ;bermensch. If you ask, you’d better find a bridge better.
Today I put on my everyday coat. It is so old that people recognize me better on the coat than on the ID.
At first I visited Iacobus.
‘How are you here, hunter?’
‘I will be executed soon…and you?’
‘Could be better. Is food here nice to you?’
‘Food never been a big deal. A poor background, you know.’
I shook my head.
‘The same thing, hunter. Whiskey and eggs.’
That awkward silence. I wasn’t in hurry so I could afford some hesitancy.
‘I got a message here.’
‘You said Friday.’
‘They call it amendments. However, Friday stays but next Friday.’
That demanding glance.
‘It is all changing every minute, hunter. You see, yesterday in the morning you were hanged on Friday somewhere in a prison yard. Some officials, some witnesses from prison’s windows and all, it is done. But…it is…they say it is breakthrough. I will hang you at the stadium.’
‘Stadium?’
 I have never seen him before so surprised.
‘It is like there are many people?’ He asked again.
‘Estimated…a hundred thousand.’
He was shocked. The deal was needing some explanation.
‘Hunter, I am…the first time for me as well. They talk there much. Like broadcasting for all the country. You see, one hundred thousand in the stadium and millions at their TVs, it is what they say.’
He was just following my lips and not understanding a thing what I was talking about.
‘Stadium,’ he fumbled.
‘Stadium, hunter, right. One hundred thousand. Can you just imagine that? I surely don’t. But it is not all.’
He didn’t say a word.
‘You won’t be hanged alone.’
He looked at me like at someone who took too much whiskey and was talking some delusional stuff.
‘You are going to be three at once.’
‘It is a show?’
‘Yes, they will profit from tickets and commercials. It is a show. At the same time it is historic occasion.’
‘That is…am i supposed to be a happy one?’
‘Somehow. Then they plan to make a show regularly. They have already tested and it was a success. So, you are going to be the second.’ 
‘Madness.’
‘Honestly, they were excited when heard about you.’
‘Why?’
‘You are an exorcist. So, I hope they won’t forget you soon. Besides;’
My cell started ringing. Hank’s name on the display. I took.
‘Hank.’
‘Another amendment. Have you already informed the exorcist?’
‘Right in the cell.’
‘Strategies are changing every minute. Let the exorcist die in quiet.’
‘You mean;’
‘Yes, no stadium for him. You hang him as usual.’
‘But why?’
‘People need the midget feeding children to bears and that Oakman. It is like the exorcist isn’t so populated to sell out the stadium.’
‘Ratings?’
‘You know. Tell him. And one more thing. He will be executed on Monday. Then Oakman on Friday. ‘
‘Sure, Hank. Bye.’

Iacubus was attentively looking at while I was speaking.
‘The arrangement is changing. They say, you will be hanged in the prison on Monday.’
‘Not that wanted?’
‘ I would say not that hated. If you would have blown out a child’s head or…so, they would hate you much more.’
‘But,’ he searched for words. ‘It is better to die alone and in quiet.’
A silent farewell. The warden who was to lead me from cell to cell expected me talking with another one. it was his job walking from dead man to dead man. People used to hear “dead man walking” but his case belonged to exceptions. The only one alive in the reign of death. If I visited here my clientele and then left the place so he never left this place except of going home to have a sleep. He had no one at home waiting for him. A man for dead men. I had been visiting the jail as frequent as no place in my life before, but it never came to my mind  how that warden lived his life.
What a shit I should be if I tried to position myself on a place of a man who used to be my guide in that reign for all these years just in the moment when strictly speaking I  was in a desperate stage.
In other words, I started to care about him when I came to the edge…
He will never play a decisive role in my life but…But it is all about the people who we deal every day to a certain extent and never know their life. You must have already noticed at least once that there are sort of people you meet in your life, you deal to and so on who seem to be projected just for being help for you.
How many lives we do neglect!
The warden led to Alaric.
I entered the cell. Alaric was on his bed and his legs didn’t reach the floor. Unfortunately, there is no cells designed for midgets. He didn’t make impression of someone to laugh at. Firm and steady. Just like Ulf, but a bit more dangerous if it comes to.
‘I have heard about you.’
As usual such hard guys aren’t penchant for a friendly talk.
Honestly, I didn’t expect he would endlessly talk.
‘They say you got the strongest grip.’
‘Want to test?’
‘No, thanks, I see you are a firm one.’
I sat down opposite to him.
‘Alaric, ‘ I pronounced the name without addressing him. ‘A rare name.’
‘It is not for everybody.’
I didn’t have much time to talk. So, after a couple of idle questions I decided to come to the kernel but kind of careful hoping Alaric would play into my hands.
I stood up and sat next to him what made him suspicious about me.
‘Ulf,’ I whispered. ‘is greeting you.’
His eyes pierced me through. It wasn’t clear what was spinning in his head. I whispered what could not have gone unnoticed.
‘I am supposed to inquire about your last will.’
He was penetrating me with his eyes as if reading behind the lines what I meant inquiring about the last will.
‘To blow this state is all I want.’
‘Have a plan?’
‘If I were free but I am here,’ he said slowly.
‘Anyway!’ I said quite loudly. ‘I am here to inform you that you are going to be hanged in two weeks, on Friday. As a matter of fact, there are two of you who will be executed in public. The second, a certain Vincent Oakman,’ he wasn’t surprised, I noticed he took it cool. ‘You know, he organized a couple of blows, right as you want it. At first, they wanted to execute you both at once, but then…one after the other. At first Vincent, then, in a week, you.’
He didn’t make attempts to interrupt me. As far as I could see he wasn’t quite sure about what was happening. It looked like a provocation so he made no sign he was catching up what I meant. I continued.
‘The scaffold will be built up in the middle of the stadium, where a hundred thousand people will come into to witness your hanging. The say, about million will be sitting at their TVs. So…it is…madness, man! A million. ‘
I leaned forward to him and repeated once again but not so loud.
‘The central stadium with so many people in and ten times more at their TVs. Do you see the scope? Moreover, this Oakman. They call him the enemy number one.’
He turned his head into the direction of the warden staying behind the closed door.
‘How is he there?’ he asked.
‘Vincent?’
He nodded.
‘Positive I should tell. You would say he is depressed there but it is not the case. Moreover he recommended me to visit the midget circus. They work there already after you. You are getting what I mean.’
‘Did you enjoy the show?’
I shook my head.
‘Yeah! honestly, have never been to there before. Mind blowing, I should say. I saw the bear. You know, I was so close to him.’
The last words he read from my lips.
I didn’t stop.
‘As a matter of fact, maybe you would do me a favor, recommend something there. I mean, there are two or three programs…I just;’
‘Don’t really know what they are planning there after me. Hope,’ he said quietly. ‘They don’t miss me there.’
I leaned forward.
‘They do.’
His eyes were really on fire. He was vibrant with eagerness. I saw it.
I stood up and closed the dossier.
‘Ok, you midget! You have still time to mull over your will but don’t delay that too long. Time is coming. I will come in a couple of days to hear your will. You last one. But in case … don't take it amiss, I have a pile of work to do.’
‘The stadium is a good place to die.’
I heard what I expected to hear. He caught the idea with the stadium and added.
‘You say much people there in?’
‘Yeah, they will come to see you hanging. Sort of honor!’
He nodded.
‘I hope so.’
This warden. He accompanied me so many times already that he was barely listening to us. It would be strange to say that we partially never changed words. I said hi, he greeted me. Questions kind of how are you and so on but never more than that. Following him to the exit I was pondering on the evening. It would be discourteous to ignore her that day. When that moment happened when I started feeling myself obliged to follow a courtesy line…
When I follow this path for the last time…If I know for sure it would be the last time, I will surely inquire a bit about his life. I should have a couple of question in reserve to keep up the ball. I do it. Clear. Next week, my last visit before the execution I break the silence.
Whatever. Recently I have stepped up on a line of courtesy. So, I should keep on that.
The shadow man was there as he had been the last time. No sign of being afraid to be found out. I caught the warden’s glance directed at him. Obviously, the warden saw him not for the first.
Why was it so important?
There was a message from Paul. He asked to meet. At first I was about to decline cause I planned to visit the circus but the shadow man…it was walking on the edge and I agreed. A couple of hours eating another Italian dish with Paul and then right to the swan lake. Traditionally we never had a thing to conceal from each other but this time I had to. Too much was at stake. Besides,  the stadium was taken as the priority target so…direct threat to Paul’s life.
He was already informed as of public execution and congratulated me. I pretended I was like happy to get away from stuffy cabins right to ovations and glory.
‘Don’t you have that stage fright?’ he asked me.
‘Sweating and stuttering in public?’
‘Yes’
‘No, I don’t enjoy being in public but…fright? Don’t think so.’
‘It is like…you see… I have experienced so many performances. From time to time people really go stoned. It is not only, you know, stuttering or searching for words, sweating and so on, I can tell you…they can’t speak! They just look into camera and’
He expressed uncertainty on his face.
 ‘Stones, absolutely helpless, you get that it is going on air but you can’t really do a thing, they are…are stoned like those stones, I can’t name differently.’
He was quite expressive about his every day working process.
‘As far as I know I am not supposed to say much. As usual, my speech and pull the lever.’
He shook his head.
‘You don’t have to speak much to fail, man. I can tell you, there are experienced people who need doubles. Tens of doubles. They are blanking out, talk some silly stuff…and… ok, and for you it is the first time. Moreover, - he raised his point finger, - it is a studio work, it is a fucking stadium,’ he depicted a stadium with his arms.  ‘It is one hundred thousand!’
He exclaimed that so loud that people turned to us. We smiled them back.
‘One hundred thousand, man,’ he repeated quieter. ‘Jack…i…me…I would fail. You can’t imagine how noisy they are there. You won’t hear yourself, man. Just be aware, man, it is an anxiety, a fucking phobia people really suffer from. Naturally your body releases adrenaline into the blood as if you are attacked or got threatened, scared. That is how your body protect itself. It is a serious thing, Jack. Those sophisticated ones use some techniques…kinda you separate yourself from that all as if there is nobody and you are talking to just camera and so on.’
‘I am recommended to be on style.’
He started nodding intensely.
‘It is a common thing, I would advise the same but I mean…in that coat you look how a man of your profession should look. If you ask, I wouldn’t change anything. I see what they mean. That Marshall is a benchmark but you are damned to start a new era, man. Don’t change. My recommendation to you.’
That conversation was vital as usual. Paul belonged to the species who took all the things easy. You call them easy-going but he is a bit different. Man of all and nothing. If you like something he already knows it. He likes it as well and he knows why you like it. As he said once it is all about algorithms. That affectionate circle works in the same way. Thus, if you know what a certain one likes you can count through what they would like in a year. It is not that it can be always predicted, there unexpected turns and some tendencies you never catch up with but generally you can track that development. 
After our meeting had come to its end and we left the cafe I set off for the swan lake park. The shadow man was following along the whole road on the other side of the street. He didn’t really bother me in that moments of having a rest but there was some displeasing matter I cared much about.
Joy. Winston’s case began in a similar way. If they get quite suspicious about my movements and intentions she inevitable would get under their control. If I got caught…she would be arrested as well. A labor camp.
Anyway, there were numerous questions and doubts turning in my head. What if I and what would she. I tried to play out various scenarios but it was an idle running.
You never know who is behind the door if you don’t open it.
I watched her sitting there on the bench as usual. The more I watched her the more I asked myself what if questions. After substantial travelling around the circle of the same questions I suddenly ran across an idea…
What if I took advantage of this turmoil which had been swelling up all this time and while no one would understand nothing at all in a wild fight for power I would just take her and…
‘You disappearance was kinda expected,‘ such a hint.
‘I hope the breakfast tasted.’
‘Not much, I have to admit I had no stomach for a breakfast at all,’ a shame smile.
I smiled and sat down next to her. The shadow man got settled not far from us.
‘I had some appointments.’
‘I wasn’t much of a princess’
‘You weren’t but the date wasn’t ordinary as well.’
She took her eyes rush at me.
‘The date?’
‘Why not?’
‘pies?’
‘What kind of?’
‘Fruit one for example.’
‘You got one?’
‘That pub we were to that evening. Today, they have there a pie evening. They do it regularly.’
I fixed my glance at the shadow man. I didn’t want to tell her about him and It wasn’t why I were staring into his direction. Why wouldn’t we ask him for  a pie? He might be a great fan of fruit pies and instead of enjoying one just in the moment he had to be tracking me all the evening.
Just sympathy. That human common sympathy. We all have a need in caring for someone.
We took two pieces of a blueberry pie and two of an apple one.
‘Honestly, I am not really a fan of an apple pie but I take it because my grandma used to cook a delicious apple pie. The pastry was so light that It never felt heavy after it. And not as sugary like they do it in chain bakeries. ‘
‘Tribute to the past?’
‘Feels like but after the first piece I don’t want to eat it anymore, it tastes...you;’
‘Not as in your childhood.’
‘Right, it differs so much but the cake is the same.’
I nodded.
‘I can eat yours after I am ready with mine as well if you don’t want to proceed with it.’
We both giggled.
‘As a matter of fact, why do you bet if you know that you lose?’
I looked around searching for the shadow man but didn’t find him. I lost him out of my sight when entering the pub. This one turns out to prefer stakes or beer to the pies.
‘First of all I know that I would likely lose than win cause it works so. The odds are never in your favor no matter whether you gamble or bet. Otherwise it would make no sense. This business is going to make profits  because the house always wins…especially if driven by the state. Then, it is a sort of vice you are ready to fall prey to. Why I need that?’
I pondered a bit over it.
‘Maybe because it is a good stress relief for me. Kinda painkiller.’
‘Opiate?’
‘Addiction? I am not addicted. For that speaks that I bet only after executions. Such addiction occurs usually if you have to…if you see no other way to earn money. It is like…mm…you are really frightened by possible financial crash and you are dying to escape that…but you;’
‘Digging the grave further?’
‘Kind of’
‘Somehow I would suppose it all about risks you take. To tickle nerves and so on.’
I laughed out.
‘I see you are an expert! Tried once?’
‘No,’ she smiled. ‘It seems obvious to me.’
‘Right you are. Those risks they take…people need that adrenaline. I have a good friend who is a bookmaker. He told me much about those guys craving for taking up huge risks…to tickle nerves as you said. So, I can tell you,’ I chewed a piece of cake. ‘Blueberry is really good.’
‘Gorgeous!’
‘So, it is a special kind of people. Those are real addicts. If they win they don’t stop and keep on betting till their pockets are empty. Then it comes to hysteria and…there are security guys. Well, it is time for them to act. Sure, it is far from me. I make a wager on a game, have three or four whiskey and a good talk with my friend. Then I lose and go home looking forward to a sound sleep. If you are addicted, you go secretive about that and feel distinctly you can’t stop. You are so strained that one day you wake up feeling a nasty anxiety. You are bearing it around with you in your head. Home, work, a swan lake park and so on. This anxiety would never leave you alone. Commonly it leads to sleep deprivation. Then the first you see in the morning is  dark circles under the eyes.’
‘You tell in a way as if you experienced it, but I don’t mean that;’
‘No, it is ok!’ I smiled. ‘I know what is waking up with those circles. You see, insomnia. From time to time. Especially…sometimes I had four executions in ten days, it was tiresome.’
‘I see.’
She started her apple cake and gave it up after the first piece. Chewing it she looked up to me. I read it from her eyes.
‘Ok, I will do it.’
I took her cake and executed it relentlessly.
‘It is’ I was chewing. ‘Look these cakes. You take an apple one but you don’t like it. Why?’
‘Cause my grandma.’
‘It is clear, cause it brings you somehow into your childhood in warm embrace of your grandma, doesn’t it?’
She nodded.
‘It seems to me, this apple pie is…it distracts you from the present, from that all.’
‘But it makes it pretty heavier.’
‘Anyway. The betting is kinda the same cure for me. Endless executing makes you a mentally handicapped person. You lose emotionality. No shade of empathy, no sympathy…you are getting thick skinned. But! It is not that I am quite worried that I can’t feel any sympathy to someone or…it is not about that...the problem is that I feel I am stunned or thunder stricken. I just walk and feel nothing. There are so many people around…you know, they are laughing, crying and doesn’t matter what else, but me, I am like a stone.’
I stopped speaking cause I felt I was speaking wrong things.
‘Are you ok?’
I shook my head and took another piece of the cake.
‘I look at person and see straps around a body. And;’
I felt as if fallen out of the reality. Deep in the water. If you have ever sat on the floor in the pool. I mean in the water. You would get what I mean. I don’t hear anything. I am alone. There is water around and it is like void. Why is it so difficult to get free from this state?
‘I mean, there is a sound of electricity shocking a person. I am hearing that sound. There is nothing around but this sound. It is somewhere inside.’
The both plates were empty.
It was silent. She didn’t speak cause she hesitated to say something. Such a situation, she didn’t want to be rude or…so, I said:
‘Oh, we managed to execute the apple cake! ‘
To neutralize a pretty electrocuted atmosphere you do just smile. It works. And change the topic. Suddenly.
She smiled as well.
I said, it works.
We have barely left the pub how I noticed the shadow man staying in a hundred meters from us. He was really man of steel. His moderation and strain were intimidating. Did he feel a hunger? Was he thirsty? Cold? He was there on the corner. Staring into my direction. Did he really need to see me to control me? He seemed to feel me, my presence, my warmth. Man of steel. Man of stone. Man of no feeling. Who was he?
We were walking slowly along the street. It was already dark and we both would have a rush day following a new dawn.
‘You said you would escape.’
She wasn’t surprised. It must have been spinning in her head for a long.
‘I would.’
‘You should be aware how and where it can end up.’
‘You mean the chair?’ she looked into my eyes.
‘For me, you go to a camp.’
‘I would prefer the chair.’
How many people would come home alive from there? A wrong question. To answer that one you should answer the other – would the state consider them? need them? if not then the stats makes no sense.
What the use of letting them come home if they have no future.
That is why they increase their sentences. Your sentence can be increased if you don’t serve properly your sentence…and you don’t do it properly. That is why any sentence is a death sentence. There is no real difference between being executed and sent to a labor camp. You die. It is just a matter of time…I would say a matter of a method.
During a couple of years you pull railways through the deserts, fields and forests. You are getting weak. You work yourself out and then…you get substituted.
If you ask, I would take the chair.
We entered her apartment. Usually you are strained cause the both of you guess where it is leading to but…not in my case. It is not about a bed. It is about the chair.
‘Joy. ‘
I wanted to tell her about the shadow man expecting me under her windows but I got her confused a bit. So ridiculous.
‘Don’t worry please about your sex issues’
She acted a bit shy. I felt I had to help her.
‘I am not, to be more precise, I am worried about that. Yes, I know I have some, but now it was just about my work.’
‘Just leave it behind the door.’
I would. I have already. Under the windows.
‘It is not so easy.’
‘Why?’
It was high time to make her acquainted with my friend.
‘The thing is. Don’t be worried much;’
Never say this, a no to that “don’t be worried”, because people start worrying.
‘There is a man following me everywhere. He is not a killer or something like that. He is threatening neither me nor anyone at all.’
It could be read on her face that she was worrying.
‘This man is known as the shadow man. He is assigned to a certain person if that one is given with a serious assignment.’
‘What kind of assignment?’
‘In my case, I am assigned to carry out execution of the most wanted criminal. They will broadcast it on Friday next week. ‘
She sat down on the sofa.
‘As far as understand, you will execute this person and you will do it on TV.’
A questioning glance.
‘Right you are. ‘
‘Is he really so…mmm…important.’
‘They call him the enemy number one.’
She rounded up her eyes.
‘I have heard about that person but am not sure about his name. Amm,’ she was brainstorming. ‘Vincent,’ she said.
I nodded.
‘You will execute him?’
‘Hanging. On Friday next week. Broadcasted on TV.’
She didn’t really know what to say. Just strained look.
‘It is not a big deal, I should say, but till the job isn’t done…this man…he is supposed to control me. It is his job. He is not a dangerous one.’
‘Why didn’t you say earlier?’
The question you are damned to hear from your girlfriend whatever topic you have touched upon. They like to make it dramatic.
In my head there were a limited number of alternatives to give her.
I didn’t want at all to tell you that.
I plan to participate in a kind of revolution, to blow a couple of buildings, kill some people, then try to escape and…maybe get arrested and executed. So, I would like to ask you to join me in that trip.
The quite doubtful alternatives, aren’t they? That is why I decided to say:
‘I just noticed him today after work. He must have been assigned to me today.’
She was looking at me as if she knew that it was only the third variant. She could press me trying to pull out a true reason from me but she preferred to believe me.
‘So, you are an important person.’
I shrugged my shoulders.
‘Looks like but I am not sure,’ and smiled.
You know, to neutralize.
‘It is just his job. I don’t know him personally but it is a common measure. Don’t be afraid, Joy. It is really alright.’
She looked worried but I caught that calming down tendency.
I managed to calm her down. Then…once experienced that glance? After you managed to drive all her fears away…
Briefly about my problems.
For several years I have been burning and hanging people. A couple of times I happened to torture them as well. Along with that I didn’t have sexual relations at all. You kill, you bet, you torture. You kill, you bet, you torture. It is an every day. You are getting stoned. I mean mentally. You don’t really need that sexual intercourse cause you are immensely stressed. Once you suddenly grasp that you don’t react on a tempting woman – being naked – as you used to. They say it is because of extended periods of abstinence. They are right. It happens. But! If you once happen to mortify a human…a body, warm still, soft, you feel blood under the skin…You take their arm and let it fall. No resistance. It is a dead flesh. A still warm dead flesh. You take it and bring somewhere…
That is a procedure you do at least twice a week.
I told to oldies…They said it is ok.
“Forget the life as you used to know it”
I had sex a number of times and there were some fails. Thus, I am not sexually self-assured. In other words, I am not sure that if Joy takes her dress off bringing her body to my sharp focus I would react as I am supposed to. It makes me stressed. That is why I become a bit worried if
…you know that glance? After you managed to drive all her fears away…
I failed again.
However, she reacted as I hoped a lot. No offence. God bless her!
Then we laid naked for a couple of hours. Talking. Talking. Talking.
She told me about the place where the river flows. I felt a strange feeling of taking a necessary care of her. It was an emotional moment. She acted so helpless. She was so alone, so little, so weak, so needing my protection and so, so, so on. Her voice so fragile.
So, I managed. In a couple of hours after my another fail.
We are walking around a circle. You lose, you win, you lose, you win…




JACK
 
Your enemy is your best friend. Learn from him. Differentiation between enemy and friend is a way dubious thing. Sometimes is just a matter of perspective. The same applies for difference between torturer and his victim.


July, 6

When I entered the cell Vincent was standing in the middle of the cage. Now, at the level of eyes I noticed that he was a tall enough, not that very tall but taller than me, and thin man.  He smiled widely and his eyes, sharp and penetrating, were blistering with pleasure.
‘You look excited,’ I greeted him.
‘Calm and iridescent.’
‘Iridescent?’
‘Light. I woke up today and immediately started my pushups. Then I stood up, stretched my arms and felt some lightness. As if I have done everything right and ripe for a worthy leaving. What is about you?’
‘Some lightness I certainly don’t feel. However, I feel not bad. You know, recently I have visited the midget circus. Have never been there before and now…it just came over me like why not to visit the place. There is so much said about that.’
Vincent attentively listened to me and after have finished came closer to the bars.
‘And what do you say? I have heard it is not as good there as it is being said. Generally, Jack, I have to confess that I am pretty skeptical about whether some truths can be told like that. I mean, they say, the circus is a must to visit, but the same people are penchant to be excited about things which I wouldn’t be so positive about.’
I sat at the table . Vincent was still standing in the middle of the cage.
‘You see the kernel and you are right. I wouldn’t depict it that bright and colorful. It is being widely told the midget threw a child right into the bear’s claws.’
Vincent’s reaction was predictable. A controlled amazement.
‘I heard something like that. Information reaches that place in a pretty distorted form. They say the child is dead. What is about the circus? Do they plan measures?’
‘Yes, they plan there something. But, it is all the same. It is said much, but usually no drastic changes. It just keeps going on.’
I smiled widely. He paid the same.
‘This midget, who killed the child. I will execute him. ’
‘Have you already talked to him?’
‘These midgets…you know, they are so combative. You talk to him and feel like these guys would blow any minute.’
‘Do you like that?’
‘Somehow. You never know who you would trust tomorrow. As a matter of fact. I am here not for talking about midgets. ‘
‘So what? ‘
‘They call you the enemy number one.’
‘Such an honor!’
‘Is it flattery to be high profile?’
‘It is like they are making a martyr out of me. If you want to hurt your enemy just forget him. Leave him alone in his cell. For the moment they need me alive delaying my execution because they need their enemy to have a clear face. Do you remember the manifest? About enemy? We all have to make a worthy enemy. Degrading someone means degrading yourself.’
‘I am here today to inform you that your execution will be broadcasted.’
‘I am not that astonished, Jack, but I have to confess I didn’t expect that.’
‘Not just broadcasted, I will hang you in the central stadium with one hundred thousand people in.’
He just shook his head. Obviously had something to say but lingered as if conceiving the scope.
‘They reduce everything to a showcase. This state is a mental hospital. The personal is applying new treatment methods with no reason, no scientific verification and…absolutely irrational. They don’t cure, they just bring everyone to a certain level which let the hospital function somehow. If you let the patient free they would lose themselves in the world.’
‘Like a circus?’
‘Why not, but I meant the middle ages.’
‘Burning heretics on the central square.’
‘Sad, Jack, but we are back into the middle ages. Thus, I am a heretic and you;’
‘Hangman’
‘A matter of routine. At first, it is a revenge to frighten your enemies showing what you are capable of. Then it is a punishment. For a moment you hesitate why it looks like too brutal, shocking, causing mental instability but you do it to avoid such incidents in the future. Such punishments cause reaction. It is getting frequent. After a day of careful consideration you draw a conclusion – a punishment sounds too revenge like, you need an execution. You create a court. From the moment on you don’t kill, you don’t revenge, you don’t punish but you sentence. Then…it comes to stagnation because it is not up to violence, it is all up to demonstration of violence. People should capture the emotion of the day. In the end of the way it ends up in the central stadium. The question is, Jack, what follows then?
I though a bit about what he said but couldn’t find anything to say. He was right. Nothing to add.
‘They talk it is kind of historic.’
‘A new beginning they call historic when the circle ends. We are all just particles of the history. We come and go,’ he smiled.
‘My burden.’
‘We all have a burden. You never know what is prepared and sure it is never easy, otherwise it wouldn’t be a burden. Its essence is being heavy.’
‘Yours?’
He tapped himself against the temple.
‘Memory. I saw what I would have better never seen. It is like there are thousands of parallel worlds. We inhabit all of them depending on the choices we have ever taken. There is  a world where I didn’t go there where I did. I didn’t see what I did. I didn’t make the choice which brought me there. I live there following the line of the state…investing…being a blind.’
‘Something tells me you wouldn’t change to there.’
‘I wouldn’t.’
‘Which world would you choose then?’
‘A complicated question to answer that easy.’
‘You have to.’
‘A world, maybe, where I avoided those mistakes I made years before.’
He fixed his eyes on the floor in front of him.
‘But too late is a cry,’ he smiled and sat on the floor.
I joined him.
‘As a matter of fact, you will be followed by another one executed in a week after you. Alaric, the midget.’
‘It is sad. The cord must be longer. He is short…or will they use a stool.’
‘They planned at first to execute you all at once, but then changed the opinion. As a matter of fact, you were supposed to be three.’
‘Who was the third?’
‘the exorcist who blew a man’s head in a desperate attempt to kill the demon.’
‘Do they exist?’
I laughed out.
‘You all ask that question! Yes, but he might be the last one but I should say he is a quite reasonable man with deep insight but with some kind of strange ideas and beliefs.’
He shook his head with amusement.
‘A good company. It isn’t going to be boring, isn’t that?’
‘It won’t be.’
‘And you? tremor in the hands?’
‘A stage fright?’
‘Have you been already asked?’ he grinned.
‘I am going to burst into anxiety. The sleep deprivation and so on, but I have already these sleep issues.’
We both got immersed deep in our own thoughts. No idea what he was thinking there about but me…after that visit I am going to Ulf. Then no one would dare to predict what follows.
‘Vincent, they need names. Maybe you would give me some?’
‘Sure, you might have already had a though that I won’t tell any names.’
I nodded.
‘Of course. It is kind of clear. But there is one more thing.’
‘Are you sure?’
‘Not sure that I have a choice.’
‘If you talked to Ulf ,’ he whispered. ‘And if you know a difference between “a” and “b”.’
He stopped talking. I got a figure of speech.
I pondered once again about possible consequences. Honestly…it was just my unwilling to be honest to myself. Playing with fire? Not quite the thing. I was taking my arm right into the fireplace. Touching the coals…
I am paving my way to the scaffold.
‘I am afraid there are a number of unexpected things can happen. No one knows where this chain will end.’
‘Do you believe in parallel worlds?’
‘You mean whether I would like to reserve a place in another one?’
‘Choices, Jack, one’s life involves making certain choices. More than that, it contains of choices like a building of bricks. Every day, every minute you make a choice. Go there or there, do something to not, tell or not…this way, you don’t even notice, but all your day is just the choices you make. The choice you face now is just of another scope. As if you cross the road on a red light. You take that risk but still you can reach the other side where something better might be expecting you or;’
If your work is to take lives away you get familiar with its true value. We are goods on the shelf. Economy. The more goods are there the cheaper they are getting. The same layout is valid for humans as well. The more you execute the cheaper is the value of every one.
Human inflation. We provide too much human mass. To keep the process financially effective we have to reduce costs. That is why every given human is getting cheaper in output.
‘The thing is. They ask what sense of a life is.’
‘If you asked a couple of years ago I couldn’t give you an answer. Now, it is a bit clearer. The maximum damage to the regime…but…anyway I don’t know. It is kind of question you never find an appropriate answer. Besides, it is like speaking of unique truths…I am skeptical about truths. They are not any. What is the sense? We are just a bridge to something better. It is the only answer I can give to that question. Depersonalization. There is no me, no you, no someone separate, there is only humanity that is endlessly changing, improving, getting better. We are still making rounds, again and again, but somehow we improve our movement. A human being is a part of nature. The earth is more than ground, plates and ocean. The earth involves us as well. We are the nature living according to certain circles. Winter, spring, summer and autumn. The day is getting longer. Then the night starts prevailing but it is all about the same. We return to the start…so, we begin once again. ‘
‘Now it is getting darker?’
‘A new dawn is coming. We live in the middle of the night. But sun used to rise again and again.’
‘But when? Soon?’
‘Hope, Jack. I mean, it is all a flat circle.’
‘Nietzsche?’
He nodded.
‘That is why I proceed from the idea of eternal recurrence. And that is why if you ask me about sense of my life I would hesitate to answer if considered personally. But at the whole, considering it as a “we-concept” I would answer without any hesitation. Jack, sense of our life to be a bridge to the overman…but there is irony in that.  The overman is damned to be a bridge as well cause we are making rounds.’
He stopped. We needed some time to catch a breath back. I have rewound once again what he has said.
‘If I get killed the bridge is going to be there just because there is still someone who killed me.’
He said nothing. We were silent for some time. I just thought that I was going to receive a blow cause I got no names.
‘What is your sense?’ He suddenly broke the silence.
I had an answer ready.
‘The time is only thing that matters. I am damned to take lives away, I just wait for one who takes mine.’
‘You are not very complicated, you are all about killing.’
He stood up and made a couple of rounds around the cage. Stretched his arms. It lasted minutes and then he turned to me.
‘It looks all terrible somehow that people are eager to watch someone executed. Why do they need that?’
‘Profits and demonstration of power. It is like…mmm…see what we do with our enemies.’
‘So sad. we don’t need to refer to the manifest. It would make no sense. But I can’t do a thing. If they want watch me dying. To each his own. Let them do what they want.’
Speaking between the lines. It was the last time we spoke. The third visit, which was supposed to bring names…officially…but in reality it had a different purpose. We were looking into each other’s eyes. The last stand here, in that depressing cell.
Something needs saying.
‘The next time we are going to meet is on the scaffold,’ I said.
‘I hope it will still make sense.’
‘A certain man told me the manifest is dead.’
‘And what did you say?’
‘Nothing but it looks like some people keep it alive.’
‘Theo faced too many enemies to write the manifest. Essential is to learn from the enemies, from your relation to them. The Manifest is a way to lose your enemies through conceiving them.’
‘They start building it,’ I said nodding. ‘The scaffold. Hope for the better. It is still too dark.’
He grinned.
‘It is pitch dark before a new dawn comes.’
I turned around and tapped the door.
The shadow man. Put it generally, it was getting pretty ridiculous. We both watched each other in the same places at the same time. We both were surely aware of what was happening between us but at the same time we never spoke to each other.
Yes, I know that it is kind of new experience for me what explains my relation to that. From his point of view it looks like a routine. A job. I execute people. He follows people. How strange it could seem but my job is a way more weird than his. Watching is a common thing and differs in that from murdering.
Once again that looking at each other. Similar to a married couple with some faith issues. We are aware that there are some discrepancies between us, that something is poisoning our marriage. That something is a someone third. We know that but don’t mention that at a dinner time. Just looking. Kind of silent talking.
Any other day I would just leave as it is and walk away, but maybe the pressing applied on me is that tough that I am giving in and accepting no other way but crying for help. Desperation.
The warden was looking at him as well. Not looking but like surveilling.
‘Do you recognize him?’ I asked the warden.
He didn’t expect a question from me.
‘Everyone knows what he is but nobody knows who he is. ‘
‘You can’t say better’ I nodded appreciating the words. ‘Anyway, man, we have spent so much time together and I don’t know anything about you.’
‘Have you ever heard about the executioner who just disappeared many years ago?’
‘Never.’
He looked at me with no word saying.
‘You?’ I just thought maybe he was a former executioner.
‘No, but even dead men can’t just disappear. I heard that one managed, so I ask you, do you recognize that man?’
I turned out and looked again at the shadow man.
‘The other day I noticed him there on the bench. He clocked that executioner who was executed three weeks ago,’ he added and stroke me dumb.
I haven’t heard anything about this execution. An executed executioner is something special and couldn’t just pass by unnoticed.
‘I see you don’t know.’
‘I don’t. why?’
I looked like an idiot dabbling in a swamp without realizing that I am drowning.
‘You guys must have communicational issues there. As for the disappeared one, I would recommend you not to take it for granted. It is just a supposition.’
He closed the door.
Tete-a-tete.
Is the shadow man the executioner who managed to disappear without a trace? Never heard of that executioner. I should ask Hank. But first of all what I should ask Hank is that executed executioner. This news doesn’t make me positive.
I waved him. I didn’t expect him to wave me back. So he didn’t.
I finally decided to speak him up once. Sure, he is a kind man.
Once I decided to speak up the warden who never said a word.
I wanted, so I did.
He never said a word, so he said.
It had been much better if all would have been as it had been…but something made me ask and something made him talk.
From now on I will inevitably come back to that question – is the shadow man the executioner who managed. No doubt, there is a good story behind this fact.
I called Hank and warned him that I had a non-phone question. A working day was coming to the end but Hank agreed to wait for me. I underlined urgency of the question.
Something was going on. As far as I understood sooner or later it would bring me somewhere. I felt like a forgotten item of clothing in a drum of a washing machine thrown from side to side. When the machine would stop I would be on the bottom with life leaving me with the water drained from the drum.
I said Hank what I had heard. I didn’t mention the source but it wasn’t really necessary.
‘If I am not mistaken, inconsistency with functional authority.’
It is always reduced to definition. Inconsistency is a pretty abstract definition. It is all about formulating. Inconsistency, incompliance, discrepancy and so on. It is a unique reason to get rid of anyone cause everyone is consistent and inconsistent in equal measure. If I don’t fulfil my functions – I am inconsistent.
If I fulfil my function but in a wrong way – I am inconsistent.
If I fulfil my function excellent – I am consistent – but if my chief wants me to do it a bit different (even if it would be wrong ) – I am inconsistent.
Thus, if you don’t know how to formulate right just take inconsistency as a reason. If you don’t want someone to understand a reason just take this inconsistency. It sounds so firm and is so abstract that no one would have neither a doubt about its reasonableness nor a least clue about its meaning. 
‘Inconsistency?‘ I ask Hank.
‘You know, we aren’t supposed to discuss that and you play with edged tools, asking such questions.’
‘I asked nothing.’
‘Yes, you asked nothing. So, let’s nothing be nothing.’
If I have to avoid something I’d better avoid being inconsistent. You don’t have to be able to split atom to grasp that sad truth – no one gives you a thorough explanation of inconsistency, no one wants neither to hear that nor to discuss it, but we are like being doomed to face it sooner or later.
Hank knew that better than me but he was a way wiser not to focus on it.
‘Tell me when I will be getting inconsistent.’
‘You aren’t meeting the norm.’ A bite for a bite.
‘As a matter of fact, why not a camp?’
‘It is the law enforcement,‘ he used to lean back in his chair and look into the only window. ‘We rule the state. In other words, you might know a lot to let you breathe and talk. Offended and degraded you could talk something you shouldn’t. it is a way to keep information confidential. We have to sacrifice someone…but it is not the case. This guy just got mad.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘He was assigned to tortures. It looks like he wasn’t born for that but it is not a request concert.’
Tortures. Not to suffer a mental collapse doing that you should be either a maniac or being lobotomized. For several hours a day you immerse in a reign of incessant crying, moaning, bleeding, roaring and absolutely unnatural things after which you can hardly sleep and eat. Tortures are used when information wanted is extremely important. Thus, you get a green light to get the information out of a subject. No rules, no limits.
I participated once. To describe it…have you heard about phantom pains? We speak about them if a soldier feels pain in his hand which doesn’t exist anymore. No hand but it hurts. I feel that phantom pain in the whole body if unwillingly that day comes to my mind. That guy had no chance to survive after what had been done to him but they still kept him alive. That is why I said:
‘Oh, fuck! Hank! How long has he been doing that?’
‘About a year.’
‘Year! I participated once and still feel damaged.’ 
‘After another bottle in a pub he started cursing his job and department. He told a lot. In the morning he remembered nothing but;’
I shook the head. Hank continued.
‘Another one just killed three men.’
‘Torturer?’
‘Yes. He just entered the room, took the gun out of the pocket and shot four times.’
‘Were they so important?’
‘I am not sure about two of them, they were just caught, but the third was a warden.’
A clear case. The man was really gone mad.
‘He wanted to commit suicide but he made four shots. Three resulted into the guys and one bounced in his right shoulder. So, he managed to kill three but got disabled and;’
‘They took him.’
‘No lingering. In two days he was just shot. Electrocuting and so on are too long processes for a nutty torturer. No one wanted to waste time. Led him down in the cellar and just shot. They say he wrote service notes asking for a change but always denied.’
I never asked Hank whether he regretted that once swore an oath of loyalty to this state. I know he would say he didn’t. We were a bit different. I swore loyalty as well but I never cared. It was just a phrase I had to pronounce. If I only could escape from the state…Hank was a man of honor. A colonel in the fourth (maybe the fifth, maybe the tenth) generation. For him this oath was sacred. He would sacrifice himself but never back away from the oath once said.
He couldn’t flee. He couldn’t escape. He couldn’t leave the state.
He never said but he despised majority of those who were positioned to take crucial decisions, who ruled the state, who defined the direction the nation was supposed to follow. He was aware of the price of those positions.
A sort of cognitive dissonance. The oath makes you…your consciousness makes you carry the cross. His moral code would never let him regret the oath sworn. He was predestined to serve the state and never breach the oath.
He could retire but he stayed. It was greeted. A true colonel never retires as if born for an eternal war. Somehow I was sure he wouldn’t have sworn the oath if he had known then what would come later.
As for me. The oath was a must I had to tell. I never really believed in it. Swearing the oath is like baptizing. You made it once and technically it doesn’t oblige you to deprive yourself of everything and suffer a righteous way. Swearing the oath doesn’t oblige me to die for a state that makes me torture and execute my neighbors.   
When you have your own cemetery you don’t really care anymore.
‘I can’t answer your questions.’
He understood what I had to say.
‘I don’t have any scruples and bad conscience. I would ask you who is your enemy?’
Blatant demagoguery with no end and continuation. Talked, talked and once again talked for nothing. He didn’t answer. I didn’t expect him to answer. It was senseless. Everyone knew what it was going on about. We both knew – you couldn’t serve good enough for that state. 
An endless circling.
‘The pub?’
He sighed.
‘Could use a glass.’
Usually Hank avoided pubs. A family man.
‘Wife? Children?’
‘I am not sure I can proceed sparing my children anymore from what they are daily watching on TV. And now…they start executing on TV. What the fuck happened?’
The regime happened. The regime. But I didn’t say that.
There is a thing I know about human beings. Their main problem is unhealthy curiosity. You just feel that itching along your body. Sometimes it helps but usually it delivers problems. You’d better to fight it down but…let’s be honest…
And what the choice are we normally making? That is right, that is right. That is how we mess all up. Again.





























ARTICLE

The government new protection line.
As we all know our state is waging desperate war against mass terrorism. The government takes new measures on a daily basis to protect us against new potential attacks planned by the enemy. We decided to speak to the main governmental speaker Joseph Talker.
What is the enemy?
They say there is no enemy. We don’t see the enemy. It is ridiculous to hear something like that. Just look around. These explosions. People die. The measures taken by the government have led to numerous arrests and sentences. The rebel groups use terroristic attacks as a tool to shutter the state but they all I assure you they all are damned to failure. That is our enemy is a wide consolidation of small terroristic groups working and acting as a network.
What is the reason?
What is the root? In my opinion the root is reluctance, doubt to follow the government in all its beginnings.  Today you work hard for the state and tomorrow you live a worry free life with the government and state as your protector and upholder. Doubt is the reason, doubt gives soil for terrorism. The terrorism itself. The causes and potential of these groups was already existent in a latent form in democracy. It means that the terrorism flourishes only on democratic soil, and it is a consequence of an excessively democratic conception of the State.
What is a tool to battle it?
First of all it is fidelity. Faith to the state. You see that your friend’s behavior is a bit strange to you. He got new acquaintances which you never noticed before. Maybe, he starts visiting a library to read books about chemistry, physics or something else he has been never interested before. You should tell the law enforcement district units immediately about that. Of course, a library informs us about that, but you see it is not all about libraries. You notice something suspicious you should inform. Then you ask yourself – why should I report my friend? It is a logical question. It says that you are a good friend, a kind person, that you care about your friend. It is a noble quality. You should report because your friend is obviously choosing a wrong path leading him to the abyss. We will save him or her from that. Yes, we catch him, yes, we arrest him, but we do it to get information about those radical terroristic units, groups, its network. We receive that information from a person and being assured that a person has just made a mistake we give them another chance. Thus, your friend is back to you. A kind man on a right track. And we. We receive a useful information to undermine the whole terroristic network. Thus, you friend which you have reported is the next step to win this war. You and your friends are true heroes the state needs today.
One more thing I would like to mention is what you can accidentally hear or see what makes you doubt. It is all what I mean talking about ideology. The terroristic groups have a certain ideology as well. They are smart and use all the tools. It is called dissemination of false information. They intentionally disseminate false facts and radical ideas based on those facts to undermine the state. Our security. Our safety. By means of that they try to set you against the state. Don’t let mislead you.
What measures have been taken?
A great number of units have been already eliminated. The terrorist were arrested, interrogated and punished according to the law. Mainly we speak about death penalty through hanging or electrocuting. We managed to deliver a remarkable blow on the terroristic network. A number of explosions reduced. A number of gun attacks reduced. Special attention is paid to the border where we strengthened control over all the actions – suspicious – which can be dangerous to some extent to our safety. As you already know from the newspapers and other mass media  we are planning to install more cameras around the city and suburban areas. As for the last, we are going to strengthen control putting it under detailed surveillance. Moreover, in the nearest future we will consider the expansion of the department of civil agents who will carry out patrols in search for suspicious elements threatening the safety of the state.





















JACK

There is nothing wrong with violence in itself. It is like a poison we take. It can treat you. It can kill you. It depends on measure. Measure depends on purpose.

July, 9

What does usually awaken us? A slap of a door? Engine start behind a window? Every day it is something new. Sometimes it is a thought.
You are toiling over the report around the clock and it is namely the thing which awakens you in the morning. it is a nagging thought.
Before I have opened my eyes I was awakened by the thought that today I am going to hang a man. He won’t be the first and surely not the last but every another case is getting harder. If I only could change to a different position...yes, I can...but first of all I am not supposed to and then office routine isn’t my cup of tea. That means I am damned to execute people and, oddly enough, I want to. I would rather be a bartender by Ull’s bookery, but I wouldn’t be allowed. If you change from a state position you change only to a state position. Vicious circle. A labor camp as an alternative isn’t considered.
I am a bad soldier. From one to one I start treating them a bit more personal.
Once, when I just started I heard a former executional official talking to someone else. He said that he would rather limit an executioner’s service to a certain number of executed people. I didn’t pay a lot attention to that but now...
I would limit as well.
I have cooked the same breakfast thousands of times. My breakfast has never been as tasteless as today. The worst one.
Where is a problem? Or who is?
Why is it me who is to execute Iacubus? Why not that one who sentenced him?
Or...as I have been warned - never talk to those who you are supposed to execute more than you have to.
The simpler is a piece of advice the more better it is. It is all about a certain code of executioner. There are some points but I didn’t use to care about the code.
As usual I played the execution in my mind. Stepping. Words. Scaffold. Glance. His words. Honestly, I never did it till the twenty fifth or twenty sixth. Can’t say precisely. Then I started. It was a sign.
It became a kind of tradition. Getting harder. Sadness. Tastelessness. Now it is senseless...no idea what Iacubus will say and what I have to answer.
To calm down I just take another wager money and go to Ull to lose it and get myself drunk. Don’t want to think what is going to be then. Out of my mind.
The prison yard.
There is no a window without someone’s head in it. All the inhabitants of that place, who has an opportunity, are craving to watch someone hanged. For me it is a sort of riddle. Why?
Looking forward to their own execution?
A pack of students watching another one, their friend, passing the exam, answering questions, and the teacher’s behavior. They watch to know what expects them. To be prepared. To pass the exam.
These students aren’t supposed to pass this exam. So what the use?
The chaplain is investigating Iacubus. His eyes are uninterruptedly following his every step, his every move.
‘A devil’s spawn. ’He even didn’t take his eyes from Iacubus when I came up to him. ‘Hanging is not enough, it is to burn!’
‘Hi, Chaplain, I see you are showing up in shape.’
The doc. A true professional. Never treated anyone personally. No hatred. No contempt. No warmth. All he used to do is to wait till convulsions stop and body looks like not alive anymore. He is sitting in a chair near to the scaffold. 
Danny. He has prepared everything as usual - checked the construction, cord and knot. It is slipping. The hatch drops. The lever works. 
‘Hi,’ he greeted me first.
‘Hi, is all ok?’
‘Yes. The officials are at the prison chief’s. In ten minutes they come.’
‘Thanks, Danny,’ I tapped on his shoulder. ‘I see the chaplain is pretty emotional today.’
‘He came the first. You are right. He is pretty excited today. Talked much of devil. Some sermons. I don’t get much of what he is talking there but looks like threatening.’
‘Spelling. Warning Lord and asking for strength. As usual. He might be making fun or...he is just a demented bastard ratting on us,’ we both looked at him. He was saying something quiet. Just lips moving.
‘Ok, Danny, I have something to tell Iacubus.’ 
He nodded and i went to the hunter.
I have no idea what I should tell. What should we tell to such a farewell? There is a speech i will tell before pull the lever but it won’t be what i want to tell him. What then? I am thinking over while stepping towards him but...no idea.
He is already placed on the hatch. The noose around his neck.
‘It’s been a rocky ride,’ he said.
‘As far as I remember you have still something to deal up there.’
A short pause. Sure it is not a cakewalk to find a right thing to say. The more you search the worse you say. They say - look into your heart, you find there appropriate words - I didn’t find there a thing. Scarcity.
Iacubus broke the silence.
‘I thought I wasn’t afraid of death but I am. ‘
‘It is ok, everyone is afraid. Some say they are ready but in the moment it is obvious for all that they are not.’ 
I am pretty sour to be here and do that. It is a stomach that is worsening the feeling. A strange feeling. Not that i need WC but something depressing me in that moment. You know that feeling. You might have felt it when something really awful was at your door.
‘Could you do it without the bag over my head?’
‘Here I am who makes decisions, so If you want we do it without the bag.’
‘I am just afraid to die in the darkness. Sort of childish fears.’
I would like to embrace him like in the cell then but there were pretty many officials around, so i just tapped his shoulder.
‘I don’t know how to say right things but...hope, there is something after...so, you...you will wage the war.’
‘Sure, there is.’
The officials gathered meanwhile. Iacubus is just another one. No one would ever care about him and a way he is executed. He made no noise, no hustle, no resonance. He is just another no one. they gathered cause of procedure prescription. No one of them asked as for the bag over his head. According to the procedure prescribed he is supposed to be hanged with a bag on his head but I didn’t put that one. No one worried. 
They spoke intensely about something. It might be some departments issues of paramount importance. New standards. New norms. Changes. Experiments. Threats and so on.
No one noticed Iacubus’ neck cracked. No one heard it. I have held my speech und pulled the lever. It hurt me much but...it is a law. Law is higher than human.
He convulsed. A minute or more or less.
The doc proclaimed him dead. Danny started a report. I set off in the bureau for another wager.




JACK

De rebelli:
A slave is an untreated slave driver’s waste product. People used to neglect their waste. In neglection lies salvation.

JULY, 10

WE KNOW YOU BURN LETTERS. WE KNOW YOU TELL NO ONE. WE KNOW YOU ASK QUESTIONS.
IT IS COMING, IT IS COMING FROM THE BELOW.

Ulf read it attentively.
‘You burn the letters?’
‘And wash them in the drain. I have received it a couple of hours ago. Their intentions are getting clearer. They used to write stats data, sad stories and so on. This time it is plain talking.’
‘If they know that you burn letters they might know that you are here. I've seen it around they are quite informed. It looks like they got that you are in. I make a conclusion it has been the last letter.’
I took the lighter from the table and burned the letter. There was no drain around so I just stepped on it. Looking at the ashes on the floor I was guessing whether I would ever know the person who wrote these letters. Was it a person I already knew or would I never know that one who composed them and shoved then under my door? Someone who knew me, my routine, my habits. He could be sitting at the next table at Ull’s. He could be my colleague. There were so many could-bes appearing in my head that I was afraid of that was going to grow up into an idea-fix.
I will never stop guessing about that person. I just need to know him or her.
‘This table. It is a tool kit. All the tools we use for decoration mounting and so on. We keep in that table. Full metal.’
The table was low but wide and long, designed and built by the midgets and customized for their needs.
‘Must be heavy,’ I said.
‘Try to move it.’
I came up to the table and pressed against it. It was everything else but comfortable cause the table was too low for me to press efficiently. Then I tried to lift it to move but the table was full metal and full of metal tools.
‘What does it weigh?’
‘About six hundred kilo.’
‘Six hundred?!’
Ulf nodded.
‘Don’t take offence but I was not quite honest with you, Jack.’
A couple of minutes of high intensity exercises made me catch my breath again. Ulf took a wrench and disappeared under the table. While I was catching a breath and looking around as if I was keeping an eye out he was operating there. All I heard was endless clanging. Then he got back again with for nuts in his hands.
‘Was I trying to lift a fixed table weighing six hundred kilo?’
‘I thought I have screwed then before.’
‘Why do you need to fix the table? Are you afraid someone would sneak into here and steal the table weighing like a small house?’
‘No,’ he said and came to the back part of the table. ‘Look here.’
I followed him. He pointed at the metal cord with a grip on it.
‘Now, I pull there and you push from the opposite side into my direction.’
‘A good idea, but let me pull. The table is too low for me to push.’
We exchanged sides.
‘One, two and three!’
So we started moving the table from its place. A minute of intense sweating and the place was free.
‘Look,’ he looked down.
I bowed over the table and saw a drain cover.
‘What is that!’
‘It is a hatch,’ said Ulf quietly.
‘I see that it is a hatch, but it must be leading somewhere.’
Ulf grinned sarcastically.
‘Let’s go into!’
He took the cover aside. There was an absolutely black darkness down there. He switched on the torch and went down along the wall ladder. I followed him. In about six meters I stepped on the ground. Ulf was already heading along a low tunnel leading to somewhere into the darkness.
I had to knee and move like that. My knees hurt but I had no any choice. Moreover, I could be sure that the shadow man didn’t follow us. Sure? I hoped.
No clue how long I have been proceeding forward on my hurting knees but somehow we reached the place where there was light.
It was a pretty spacious room (maybe it was just a visual error after a long way in a midget tunnel). I had to still move on my knees but I could sat and stretch my arms to both sides.
‘Where are we?’
‘Underway.’
‘You don’t say! Where does that fucking way lead?’
‘Wait  a while.’
He directed into another tunnel. I followed.
Fuck! It so inconvenient to live in a midget’s world. I could make a profitable business on knee pads. We suffered a good sprinter distance…but why we…me! Ulf was absolutely ok. He looked at me when we were out of the tunnel.
‘You look bad, are you ok? Claustrophobic?’
I shook my head negatively.
‘My knees.’
And yes, I was like claustrophobic.
‘Sorry but we never considered pads.’
‘I see, you don’t need them. Where are we?’
He smiled and turned the torch aside from us into the darkness.
‘Do you see the pipes?’
‘Glistering?’
He nodded.
‘Is it the sewers?’
He nodded again.
‘The law enforcement has needs as well,’ he smiled. ‘We navigate here much better than above there.’
He came to the wall and directed the light on it. There was figures and letters with an arrow between them.
‘5b? what is that?’
‘The district we are in is the fifth. B means sector. A and B are two sectors of the first subdistrict of the fifth district.’
The arrow showed to 5c.
‘As far as understand, C is the third sector.’
He nodded.
‘And the first sector of the second subdistrict.’
He smiled again and said.
‘It just seems complicated, but if you have a look at the map it becomes clear. These numbers is our navigation there so that we could move much faster. The more time you spend here the better you accommodate to darkness. The most experienced can move without the torch and having to search for this pointers. Are you afraid of rats?’
‘Rats?’
‘Yes, rats, there are many here.’
I wouldn’t be so categorical saying that I am afraid of rats but we didn’t use to communicate much and surely I would rather avoid such a close communication.
‘Not at all.’
‘It is good because we have to deal with the somehow. Thus, you can stand up and walk as usual.’
He turned around and went. I followed.
Along the way to the destination point I had still no clue about Ulf showed me different sewer offshoots and told where they led and what they were planning to plant there.
‘There are a number of points we are going to mine. In a week the both central rings, the both central districts will be ready to blow.’
‘Security?’
‘Security?!‘ he laughed. ‘Do you like here?’
I nodded smiling. I got what he meant.
‘You, big people, are too squeamish. You made us to your slaves but you forgot that historically slaves used to be apt for rebellions. So, if you avoid dirt and shit...ok, man, avoid it but don’t forget to control it. You are too self-confident. We were born in dirt and shit, we were brought up there and we used to live there. Thus, you see, you reduced us to shit.’
I tapped him on the shoulder.
‘We reduced to shit ourselves, that is why I am here.’
We walked a good kilometer. He was right as for rats. The sewer was swarming with them. That squeaking never ceased. They were everywhere – walls, pipes, floors and cable lots. Several time I stepped on them and they aggressively jumped aside.
‘Beware, Jack. They can attack.’
‘Been some incidents?’
‘We got used to each other. They don’t attack us anymore except of rare cases. You are a new one for them, so take care.’
He stopped suddenly.
‘Does it seem to you that we lack of people and power to manage the rebellion?’
I hesitatingly shook my head.
‘It looks like. Everything you can count on is kind of unexpectedness you attack with and maybe the fact that a bulk of population is just not ready for mass attack…but…Ulf…it is enough military power above there. You hit them…and…some…but they could wrestle you to the ground.’
He attentively listened to me and nodded approvingly when I ended.
‘I agree with you as for unexpectedness and that they can wrestle us but you are supposed to know something you even don’t have a clue about. Have you ever seen rats above?’
‘Of course.’
‘How much at once?’
‘Maximum…maybe…three or four…why?’
‘When you saw them it could just come to you mind that why they wouldn’t poison those rats and generally end up with them at all, didn’t you?’
I nodded.
‘But you never manage, Jack. You are damned to wage this war and the best you can get from that war is just not to lose. Why? It is the rat philosophy, man. If you see them above and they are walking around without minding your comfort it means, that they have an army underground. They know for sure that you aren’t able to imagine how big their army is. They have power exceeding all your expectations.  The same Alaric meant by throwing that child…We have that power.’
I just remembered about Alaric.
‘I spoke to him.’
His glance has never been as intensive as now.
‘He didn’t talk much.’
‘He never talks much.’
‘You know him. But he is ready to struggle and hopes you manage the plan. There is an idea about the stadium.’
‘To blow it?’
I nodded.
‘Gaise is our bomber. We should talk to him. We will blow that stadium and hope we will get him alive from there.’
He turned around and went. I followed. Again.
In five minutes we reached the destination point. There were three midges around the pile mastering on something.
‘Is it ok?’ Ulf asked.
‘The last pile is ready,’ said one of those.
They all turned to me and looked at Ulf.
‘It is Jack. He is an ally. Alaric and Vincent sent him to help us. Besides, he is the one who will execute them.’
Three pair of eyes full of suspicion and disgust.
‘But it is according to the plan. Guys, we couldn’t have a better ally. It is our man in their ranks. Some we really need there. It is Gaise, I told you about,’ he addressed me.
I reached my hand. He shook. The other two shook my hand as well with some caution. I haven’t had their full trust yet.
‘The stadium. The execution takes place there.’
‘The sleeper has like considered the stadium.’
‘We all will be there plus one hundred thousand people,’ I said.
‘It would be a real blow,’ said Ulf.
Those three exchanged glances.
‘We have enough for that, ‘ said Ulf.
He was carefully pondering over counting something in his mind.
‘Eight blows,’ he said.
‘And we close the gates,’ said the other.
‘I am not sure, the gates will be secured,’ said Ulf.
‘Surely,’ I said. ‘It is  a top rated event. TV, VIPs and an army of guards, besides, I know the construction of the scaffold.’
They all looked at me at once.
I continued.
‘If we all fall down without nooses on their necks we are shielded by the construction from blows. It is not the best shield, sure, but secure enough.’
‘What if the nooses are on the necks?’ asked Gaise.
I shrugged my shoulders.
‘I cut them down,’ I said.
‘The four corner exits and four central sectors,’ - Gaise started reasoning. ‘If the exits crush down, they all would burst into panic…but we need an exit strategy.’
‘The sewers,’ Ulf said. ‘They usually take our people for such events and do you know why?’
We all looked at him.
‘The sewers, we are supposed to solve emergency cases. While we are there,’ he addressed to Gaise. ‘You take over the central district. Several hits at once, as planned.’
Gaise nodded.
‘The stadium. Tomorrow we start but we need;’
‘Sewer cleaning, I know we have orders for sewer cleaning but not there, ‘ said Ulf. ‘You will get enough people. The order, I organize. Just be ready. It is enough just to open covers for you to infiltrate into.’
‘Agreed?’ asked Ulf.
‘Agreed,’ nodded Gaise.

While we were there in the sewer underneath …A certain man managed to get into the circus. No one saw him. He came in and out unnoticed. He was quiet, invisible and crawling under the glances of those who worked. No one saw him but one who heard a worried husking of the bear. This one felt a strange smell. One of the midgets, named Nutt, saw someone crawling along the walls like a shadow.


















INTERROGATION


‘You were the head of the committee responsible for the solution of the government question.’
‘I expected this question to be first. Do we consider them chronologically?’
‘Not exactly. Thus, what exactly involved the solution of that question?’
‘Execution of the commander-in-chief and his generals.’
‘Your colleagues.’
‘That is right.’
‘What code did you take as legal guidance?’
‘A war time code.’
‘That means they were extrajudicially executed. No processes, no legal prosecution, no protocols, nothing at all. The solution is considered a war crime implying death penalty.’
‘It was a war, a revolution, a great number of battles. There is only one law – to survive. If you don’t kill you are killed. The both sides followed the same rules. The rules of war. We won. That is we reserved a right to carry out the execution.’
‘However it implies a strictly prescribed legislation process like the one we are adhering to today speaking to you.’
‘You are not soldiers.’
‘Legislation is equal for all.’
‘Your legislation is just a list of prescription you are supposed to follow. Who and on what basis has elaborated them?’
‘The supreme court, constitution based on the manifest, a new law enforcement, a new;’
‘I got! My apologize for cutting you short but what I mean is that those generals we executed then would have done the same if they had won. They accepted their fate. I should confess they did it with required dignity. I can’t say nothing bad about them. They died like soldiers. No one asked questions about your legislations and protocols. It was a war execution when general executed general. That is a code.’
‘However, from the legal standpoint it is a common war crime implying a death penalty. Consequently, I should ask you whether you plead guilty to the charge.’
‘Of executing those generals extrajudicially?’
‘Yes.’
‘I confirm that I have executed them extrajudicially. I did it based on a wartime code. You can hang me for that but you have to know that I would do it again in the same way and manner.’
PAUL

Mom says – the bad breeds bad.
Dad says – the evil comes from evil.
The manifest says – the violence feeds violence.
So, why do we make bad, evil and violent things?

July, 11

Maurice is the most wellinformed person I have ever known. I don’t mean news on TV. I mean information which you don’t find out from common sources. If you read about an explosion he already knows who and why.
He is famous for his trustworthiness providing the most valued commodity – confidentiality. If you know that someone made something and you could be an unwilling victim of the provoked chain reaction you come to a person who might know something you need. It is about Maurice.
It is what I know. It is what others know. Me and them consider we know the most wellinformed one but think a bit. Would he be the most wellinformed one if anyone knew that he is wellinformed?
The thing is that Maurice knows the most wellinformed one. A man from the inner circle of Asm d’Eau.
It is said – Asm stretched out his claws everywhere but the body with heart, brains and other guts rests under the surface.
Maurice looked pretty worried when Asm got arrested. He would never ever say why he was so worried. You have to guess. I was sure he knew something what made his face stone like when all the people around got carried away into nutty exaltations. He wasn’t that worried about Asm. He was worried about himself.
Once Levy told me:
‘We need rats. If they run away, follow them. They know something and they know it better than anyone. I don’t compare them to Maurice, but I can tell you, follow Maurice. He used to know something and he used to know it better that anyone.’
Maurice’ house was real castle with solid underground facilities. He used to say that as a child he dreamed about a house with a huge cellar. His grandpa had a cellar and worked there a lot of time. Maurice used to spend much time there with him. He liked cellars.
A fairy tale for those who take interest.
‘Look at these floors,’ Levy once said. ‘If you set a fire here, the underground wouldn’t be damaged at all. An absolute fire protection. A life support system costs like an entire house in the suburbs.’
Because he dreamed about a cellar?
I noticed that he became nervous after Asm had got arrested.
He has recently asked me as if for nothing, out of pure curiosity.
‘Have you heard something about giant rats?’
‘From time to time someone reports them but no one saw them. They report droppings, traces, a certain man from the sewers had allegedly seen a half of a giant rat. No accurate information.’
Suddenly he asked me. Just in the middle of a day.
‘If you planned an explosion attack where would you lay down? I mean place.’
He got me bewildered.
‘Am…suburbs? I never thought about it. Why?’
‘Maybe underground?’
‘It would be reasonable, but really, Maurice why do you ask?’
He acted emotionally detached. When I asked him he like awakened for a sec, his glance became clear and he tapped me on shoulder.
‘Oh, Paul, I just thought what would I do if I planned an attack.’
He smiled as if it was ok and within seconds became distracted again. Leaving he just said very quiet:
‘The sewers.’
Following the news I kept an eye on him trying to figure out something from his reaction. It was like speculating on the stock market. Something happened and you closely follow the reaction. After a number of armed attacks on quite important persons it was getting clear for me that all those attacked persons were somehow bound to him. He was growing gloomy every time. So, I got. He felt himself in a serious danger. He was scared as if he knew who could have done those things and what they were capable of. And then…
Then I got I was wrong. Once I heard him saying over the phone:
‘Hope find him dead.’
Besides, at another party at his house, we were only three – him, Levy and me – he was quite drunk, completely done and let slip:
‘It is a state of fear. We should be afraid of those insane law enforcers…as if they protect us…fucking pricks…camps and electrical chairs…waiting for us. If we are disturbing they just get rid of us…they do whatever they want but…there are people…mad bastards…no laws, no principles…they come in the night and bury you alive.’
Once he mentioned those rats again. He spoke of an unknown man burnt alive in the sewers with fingers cut out and head separated.
‘They shouldn’t be able to identify him.’
Finally, he mentioned someone who was a greater danger than anyone in the state and those law enforcers just didn’t see what was going on under their basement.
‘They sit there high and see nothing. There are monsters under the city. If I were them I would open the sewers hatch and burnt it all out there if possible. I am sure, there is a person in the law enforcement who knows what is coming on and who is still alive but as far as I see they neglect his opinion.’
After these words I finally got, that there is someone and something underneath.
‘It is not a position what kills you, it is what you say aloud. I keep silent, that is why I am talking now.’
The following days I searched for all the news with tags – sewers and underground. There weren’t much and mostly tagged underground. The sewers surfaced several times and nothing really noteworthy. In a couple of days I admitted the fact I had beaten up a wrong way. I came back to work focusing on “the accidents”. Suddenly, it came over me – attacks of different kinds, armed groups, murders and so on – frequently in the underground but never ever in the sewers despite the fact that the sewers, as far I knew, were surveilled in the poorest way. If you want to kill someone do it in the sewers, but it came to be that the sewers  were the safest place in the city. Wasn’t that strange?
It was strange but nothing more. It was like if i found out that someone had bad conscience.
For a moment I decided to abstract myself from the situation.
Take a blank sheet of paper and write the real facts down on that. Who kills. Who is killed. Where is killed. You write down all the names mentioned in the cases. Possible connections among them and what would come to the front?
You wouldn’t find there my name.
I took myself from the equation and concluded that I should better come back to my responsibilities and keep far away from that. So I did. Moreover, Asm would be hanged in the central stadium and that dark world would become darker. No sense to come to grips with it.
In an hour I got informed that Asm wouldn’t be hanged.
A certain Vincent Oakman. Wasn’t that Oakman that one who Maurice had mentioned in his phone talk?
‘Oakman? What is about Asm?’
‘Take it for granted,’ Maurice said. ‘Oakman is the enemy number one. Asm is forgotten. No one will never know the day Asm will die…if he is still alive.’
Oakman managed to become the number one. His name was everywhere. A man who killed a dozen of high positioned officials and forty four innocent citizens. He was too bright to hang Asm.
Besides, a certain midget fed a bear with a child in the midget circus. The survey showed that the citizens craved for the great revenge. They demanded that midget.
‘They hate him even more than Oakman,’ Levy said.
‘Let him go after Oakman,’ Maurice.
‘As a matter of fact, Oakman killed more than fifty persons, that midget killed a child. One death against partially sixty.’
‘A child,’ Maurice.
‘A midget,’ I said. ‘To be more precise, a non-human handicapped freak. If a dog bites someone, it is gonna be killed. If a human kills a dog, it is a fee. Humans got more rights cause humans allocate rights.’
I looked through the talks on the channel platform. People there offered new ideas, improvements, wishes and so on. They talked about trends and products that should be taken out of the channel program. People were tired. Someone claimed a scarce porn range offered on the paid channels and complete absence of reality perception.
“I am watching them but I don’t feel like I am watching them in real. It is not professional.”
Some people uploaded videos of dog fights. An extreme cruelty but already out of trend. Dog fights lost its attractiveness many years ago. A dog attacked a woman in the suburbs. A couple of stitches. Not bad for home library but too weak for “the accidents”. I was about to give in and go in the canteen when I run across comment – look here if needing shock. There was a link. I decided to sacrifice another minute and followed it.
It was a two minutes video. Looked like an underground club. Concrete greyish walls. Might be a cellar. A concrete reinforced four meters deep pit in the middle of a spacious room. From the top it looked like a square with a five meters long side. A common pool but still without water.
You know, if a video is claimed to be a real shock but nothing is going on. Just a strange room. Be sure, something will come.
The video was made by a pro. It seemed so. Framing. Light. There was an opening and suspense. No chaos as usual.
Then darkening. Ten seconds before the ending. There was a man in a masque. Two chains in his hands. The cam went down into the pit. There were two madly barking pitbulls. And then the voice said – they are hungry waiting for someone into the pit. Then a title – Friday, 22:00.
It was a pure murder. People were finally gone mad.
Jack was right. Sooner or later we have to face questions we have never asked before.
Then… suddenly…a thought…a picture…
An Aztec priest ripped out a heart of a peasant and lifted it up to show it to the crowd. Then he threw it down into the exalting crowd.
People there felt hatred and fear. The both towards the state.
The came Los Conquistadores. The Aztec empire fell down.
…the war within a civilization which contributes to its breakdown and disintegration…





























JACK

Chess is a game created by life itself. Neglecting your pawn you neglect yourself.

July, 11

Nutt was worriedly telling us about the man who had managed to crawl into the circus and then vaporized when allegedly felt someone watching him.
‘It is dark, there are no bulbs, you know it,’ he said to Ulf. ‘He definitely didn’t watch me but he was like a beast, he felt it, I am sure he felt and then…like a focus…just away…I then waited a while and looked through but no one was there.’
He was talking incessantly gesticulating and showing where the man crawled and how he detected and watched him all the way.
‘Right to the table and then he looked into the hole.’
‘Guess he got something?’ Ulf asked.
Nutt shrugged with shoulders.
‘Sure, he did,’ I said. ‘Not the whole picture I guess, but that one…he is sort of a scanner, he sees all.’
Ulf seemed to be getting really strained. Everyone was getting strained, but me…
True to say, for a moment I didn’t care about the plan at all. I just got than I was condemned. Only in the moment I understood how careless I was. They were still talking. I didn’t listen to them anymore. How could I be so careless. Hank warned me and I was sure I couldn’t mess up but I failed. Drastically.
I felt a push. It was Ulf.
‘Where are you?’
‘Here,’ I fumbled.
‘We are forced into a corner.’
I shook my head.
‘I am not quite sure I can be a good help now,’ I said. ‘It is not about my will, it is about the chair.’
‘Which chair?’ Nutt asked.
‘An electrical one,’ I said.
I sat down on the table. What could I do from now on? Not a thing. The cell in my pocket was still silent and its clinging would shutter me to death.
Ulf woke me up.
‘You stay with us. You got no choice if it is true what you said about the man.’
‘The worst thing is that…am…I have no exit strategy. What can I do now?’
‘Attack!’ Ulf said.
‘We have still a week to wait.’
I thought about Joy. Just now it frightened me somehow that there is no “where the river flows” possible anymore. I have to flee or hide. You can’t just leave the state and live there “where the river flows”. Obviously, it hasn’t been possible and the only way to make it real is to flee or crush the regime. A good idea,  but it proves to be a real hard case to crash the regime being strapped to a chair connected to an electrical transformer.
‘As far as I can see…ok…the stand now is that I am not quite aware of my status but it is getting clear that it is already messy. Now I have to go, but…I am not sure…I don’t know what expects me there. They can arrest me any moment.’
He wanted to say something but I stopped him with my hand.
‘Ccan I count on you here?’
‘Sure you can!’
‘Thus, I  will need a hide plan for a while.’
‘No doubt.’
‘It is that easy. I am afraid it could affect the execution date. Moreover they can press you hard then to get me and…you know…we all know,’ I looked at Nutt. ‘The shadow man saw the hole. It is…look like I am…I endangered the plan somehow.’
They were silent.
‘It is a setback, no way to give up the plan. We will all fight this time. No way back anymore. If they start pressing us,’ Ulf looked at Nutt. ‘We will disappear in a couple of minutes. We can.’
I stood up and headed to the exit. Having barely done a couple of steps I got that Joy would need help if I got caught.
‘Ulf,’ I turned to him. ‘If I say there is a good person and ask you to take care of If she would need?’
‘Guess she finds the circus.’
I smiled.
‘She would ask a certain Ulf.’
I had to warn her. She happened again to get into the same trap. Winston then me. It looked like the next would be a man who would execute me. It went down into the underground. There were several stations to the school I was directing to.
Having entered the wagon  I just noticed that I hadn’t seen the shadow man. It shouldn’t be a surprise cause he already got what he wanted and to follow me around had no sense anymore. Logical.
On the one hand it was a bad news cause he might be preparing a report right now. On the other hand it gave me an opportunity to inform Joy and maybe…to disappear.
Still it was a riddle whether he noticed Nutt or not. In general, we couldn’t know for sure what was spinning around in his head. He could be suspicious but there was no real evidence. The matter was that we didn’t knew what he knew. Combined with the fact that he mightn’t know what we knew…Such a mess.
Maybe it would be a right thing to call Hank a bit later to make sounding, but…would he say something crucial over the telephone? Honestly, I suppose that Hank would help me by giving me some time to disappear but for that he would need a direct contact to me which he definitely cannot have.
If I phone him he would say nothing over the phone. He would be instructed and heard.
If I come to him in the office I could likely never leave the building.
If I meet him, we both are shadowed, so it is useless.
Still I have no other choice but call him and maybe I would fish something from his words.
I have barely entered the school how the security officer stopped me.
‘Do you have an appointment, mister?’
‘Not quite,’ I said. ‘But maybe you could be a great help to me and call Miss Delafeu down here?’
I took my ID card of a state executioner and showed him to satisfy his silent request. He nodded and called her.
‘In five minutes.’
I sat down on the bench in the hall. There were a pretty rush whirl of thoughts in my head from which I had to define some pretty useful to deal with the situation.
Yes – I have been to the circus. Yes – I contacted the midgets. Yes – I was in the hole.
And what? How does it make me a criminal? I am playing a secret agent. I blackmailed a midget. He couldn’t resist and showed me something but not really crucial. It wasn’t a risk cause I knew that I was secured by the shadow man cause he wouldn’t let them kidnap me or something like that…
However, it was far from a good strategy but it was an emergency case to save my poor soul. Kind of the last bullet.
‘I didn’t wait to see you here.’
‘I have a serious thing to tell you.’
She sat down next to me. If I start me talking with:
‘It is about us,’ just like I have done.
She would suppose:
‘You want to stop it,’ just like she has done.
Then I have to calm her down saying:
‘Not! not at all!’
She is calming down and might be waiting from something like “let’s live together” but I had a different thing to say.
‘You said you would flee?’
She thought for a moment and said:
‘You serious?’
I nodded.
‘The situation is a bit more complicated, Joy. I can be suspected in a serious crime. It is all about the same story. But…I really participate in a serious plan. I can’t say to you what that plan is, it is a long story and quite complicated, but I just want you to know for sure whether you would flee with me.’
‘I would.’
She sounded assured.
‘I really happy to hear that, but if they arrest me, they might interrogate you as well and maybe worse.’
There were not many alternatives to hear from her. She couldn’t just give up all and to take risks which could bring her on the chair or…I had no idea about her thoughts but I still understood that it was a hard choice to make, so I decided to help her.
‘if I don’t give a feedback within three days and you still have a wish to flee, go to the midget circus and ask there for Ulf. And remember that the midgets are your best friends.’
She was gazing at me. No words.
Such a situation. It was so uncertain. You understand something what is going on but you don’t grasp the whole picture. Uncertainty.
I had to go and call Hank. The case was really urgent. I had to act. I had to give myself a bit time.
She was just gazing at me and I had no certain idea what I could say.
‘The midgets are my friends,’ she said.
I smiled. A good sign from her.
‘Now, Joy, I really have to go. I am on the edge. ‘
We used to talk so much about glances which usually tell us more than words but as for me…I am a bad glance talker. As if I missed lesson of glance talking that is why I used to need a couple of words. She was just gazing at me. As far as I understood she let me go.
‘I will come to you, Joy. Just wait me. Wait three days and go to the midgets.’
The security guard was scrutinizing us so I didn’t want to compromise her be giving a kiss or hug or…
‘I will,’ she said.
I felt I should say something. I had to. I ought to. But I didn’t.
As soon as I have left the school I called Hank.
‘Hank’.
‘Hi, Jack.’
‘Don’t you have there some news?’ I asked him carefully.
‘What do you mean?’
‘I mean kind of changing or amendments as they call it.’
‘Oh, not at all. I have a pile of work to do so I can’t really speak much.’
‘ I just want to be informed if something new.’
‘I know.’
‘Thanks, Hank, bye.’
He sounded he really was in hurry. Deadlines, reports, standards, new plans and so on. I didn’t hear anything what could sound like warning or caution. Maybe he hasn’t been informed yet. Maybe they were going to inform him about it and I called him while he was on the way to the magister.
For a second there flashed a supposition  - what if the shadow man is playing his own game and got another plan for me.
I looked around. The shadow man wasn’t there. He didn’t follow me. The expectation of the punishment is worse than the punishment itself.
So, there were too many unknown variables. I was in a dark room and didn’t see my enemies but I was feeling them walking around me but when would they attack…?
The shadow man lingers. Why? It is a chess. He sacrifices a figure. You eat. He sacrifices a knight. So, you doubt. Three options: either he has to sacrifice a knight for something greater, or he makes a mistake, and finally, he might be leading you into a trap. What would you bet on? You analyze. You know, that he is a smart enough to make a mistake, but at the same time there is a percent probability he can make a mistake. A bad wager. So, consequently, the signs say he is leading somewhere. Besides, there is always something hidden from you. Something that makes you avoid betting. I am not sure but I got a thought.
Might he be playing another game and my king is just a secondary target?


SHADOW

The basic human needs in a socialistic state is to be a partner not a slave of a state institution.

July, 13

The shadow man never entered the central entry. The job he used to do involved top secrecy. He never asked anyone, never spoke up to anyone and never answered to anyone. He used to just pass by everyone heading to the only door he entered in that building.
He was a master of disguise unless it really mattered. Thus he could walk through the corridor swarming with people with fully opened faced smiling to everyone but no one asked him anything and never showed interest in his personality. He could but he never did but rare cases.
His face can’t be described unless he had eyes, nose and mouth…so on. No remarkable traits, nothing at all you could pay attention to.
He passes you by and you can’t remember his face. You say “Good day” to him and in a minute you are asked who you greeted and you don’t remember a thing about him.
He reported to only one person, who reported to the chief of the city law enforcement. He had no colleagues. His work involved this level of conspiracy. No one could know his name, no one had a right to ask anything about him.
Do you remember Kim from the archive? If anyone asks him about the shadow man Kim would react immediately and report this man to the authorities.
The shadow man is known as the shadow and it is all you are supposed to know about him. He got no name, no face, no job and so on. He doesn’t exist at all. If you see him you should visit an ophthalmologist – you got eye issues.
He entered the room. The secretary raised her eyes and immediately lowered them back to the phone to dial up the chief. If the shadow man comes the chief is free always.
So, he came.
He never pronounced the shadow man’s name. For emergency cases they had a nickname. To be more precise a usual name which had nothing to do with his real name. They never mentioned a name of the object the shadow man tracked.
‘The object,’ the shadow man said. ‘I have been monitoring the object for suspicious activities for a week.’
‘You mean that executioner assigned to Vincent Oakman and that midget.’
‘There is another one, sentenced for exorcism. And yes, I mean the executioner.’
‘So?’
‘Call the internal security.’
This phrase made the chief round his eyes. It meant that an officer of the law enforcement system is suspected in proceeding suspicious activities. It happened from time to time but now it could have a serious impact on reputation of the whole system.
‘Tell me.’
‘The object visited the central prison partially everyday. He is supposed to visit the condemned he is assigned to. It is instruction. It is all about their last will and information the condemned about changes taken. For the time being he has three cases what is I should say an exceptional case. According to the instruction, there are no more than two parallel cases possible but sometimes the system let an executioner accept three cases at once.’
‘Please’
‘After leaving the prison the object used to meet with his acquaintances with no impact on the case. But he visited the midget circus twice what as far as I understand has no direct relation to the case of Vincent Oakman and the exorcist but is directly related to the case of the midget.’
‘Who comes right from the circus!’ exclaimed the chief.
‘Right you are.’
‘What did he do there? Why?’
‘At first sight it could seem that he investigated the case but;’
‘He is not authorized, he is an executioner.’
‘That is why I decided to sneak into the circus. It looked suspicious. What I found there was quite a curious thing. A hole.’
‘What is the hole?’
‘A manhole.’
‘You mean leading down into the ground?’
He nodded.
‘a diameter which would suit for the midgets only but somehow the object managed to get into. As far as I understand there are some paths or rooms made under the circus.’
‘For what?’
‘For suspicious activity.’
‘Meetings?’
‘Hardly. They can discuss everything on the territory of the circus without being suspected cause;’
‘Those fucking midgets are always there together. ‘
‘Storage.’
‘What can they store there?’
‘There are not many options – weaponry or explosives.’
‘And the object?’
‘It look like obvious that the object participate in it. We can’t see the scope of work he takes over but he has some otherwise what he was doing there.’
‘We will interrogate him.’
‘I would let him be free for some time. If we take him now we can miss a lot, but we could keep following him further and he brings us somewhere. In addition to that I would take control over the circus and all the midgets leaving the territory for any reason. They are planning there something. They have storages, they made manholes. I believe that the circus should have the priority.’
‘You sound persuasive but I am afraid…that…if we linger we can miss something. Is it a game for seconds? You act a second more and then…the game is over. ‘
‘However, I recommend you from being rush. Let him lead us. If they have manholes we should look around in the underground or in the sewer. But anyway, don’t rush with the object. Let him act for a week.’
‘In a week he executes Oakman and then the midget. So a week we don’t have for sure. Besides, as far as I see we have to assign another executioner.’
The shadow man would prefer a wider strategical game to those rush measures. He used to be getting irritated by that short-sightedness. The policy involved immediate measures to nip any suspicious activity in the bud. He used to stick to his guns. The network would successfully keep acting despite numerous arrests bringing the enforcement nowhere. It would keep going endlessly. If he were to act he would adopt a wait and see attitude to reveal a greater part of the whole network.
If you hit you’d better deliver a tremendous hit. Those little ones just make a hostile network stronger. They start acting a bit more careful. With our own hands we make them better – he thought.
Every day he is following someone. Every day he is sweeping the city through. Every day he is watching that the system is everything else but a firm one. He is coming to a conclusion that all the work he does, a hard detailed every day work, is used in an excessively wrong way.
We would have already eliminated any underground movement if we had worked in the way I mean.
But…it is all the same story. That fucking “but”. Instead to deliver a couple of massive hits to destroy that network we are confused organizing tiny hits without any serious consequences. Any system has a head, a blood system, lungs and so on but all we do is just scratches and cuts on hands.
Is it an act of disrespect to his work?
To his person? To him?
He was getting tired from that disrespectful short-sightedness, from that “we will consider your opinion when taking a decision”. Stupid bastards. They don’t do a thing but execute another one he, the shadow man, has found while sweeping through the city. They reduce his toiling to nothingness.
‘You are right, but we have to act as soon as possible. Inaction and delay are not options in that case.’
The shadow man accepted another decision like that he used to hear.
‘It is you to decide. All I can is just to recommend. ‘
‘You are right, I am that one who takes measures but you know I always take into consideration your opinion. I would follow your arguments but the case is urgent, you see. I can’t afford a delay.’
The shadow man nodded approvingly. He accepted his role of being neglected.
It hurt much. He felt a lack of respect.
‘So, what am I supposed to do further?’
‘Just keep covering him. In a couple of days we take him. Anyway, we even don’t have to interrogate him. We have everything we need. At first, we get him. Then we will press those midgets. A couple of them just to teach the rest a tough lesson.’
The shadow man stood up and left the room without a word. He never used to talk much to farewell.
Not for the first time he found himself thinking he was beating his head against the wall. Was it a wrong side?














JACK

Rereading him I couldn’t but notice what I missed reading in the school:
People don't believe a revolution is possible, and it is not possible precisely because they do not believe it is possible. For that point people need a martyr whose doom is to be the first step.

July, 13

The miners have won today. I have won. My wager has won. This evening has brought me good profits. One to four point forty five. Making a retrospective journey through this year I don’t remember such a win. Surely, this one is the greatest. Really good odds plus the highest extra charge I have ever received. An extra charge plus double bonus multiplied by 4.45…The fifth glass of whiskey is empty.
‘My congrats,’ Ull said but without enthusiasm.
The greatest win of my last years but I feel sad. It is a twist of fate. I used to make wagers every week but never managed to win as I have won today. And when I finally manage to take the house I don’t need that. My mental disaster will never end whatever happens. Somehow I proceed that downfall.
I don’t reply Ull. I just nod with my eyes burrowing into the emptied glass.
Two hours we have been sipping whiskey and reading between the lines. You say one thing, you mean another. A certain level of mutual understanding. I donn’t say anything about my wish to end it all up but somehow it is heard.
Cognitive dissonance with the world. The feeling of being absolutely rejected but not metaphorically. It is not that I donn’t feel sympathy and understanding. It is like watching TV. Incapable of saying a word like in dreams but it isn’t a dream. A wish to cry but something inside nipping your attempts in the bud. People are uninterruptedly speaking around but I hear just echoes of their voices.
Somehow you want to flee away but it seems impossible. By means of a certain effort you manage to overpower a wish to lay down right here and cover your head with the hands and a jacket. To hide under the counter.
I stand up then and left for an undefined future. However I know what is coming on.

*              *              *

‘It’s been a breakthrough you needed,’ Hank hailed me. ‘There is another one in a week and you are an undisputable executioner for top cases only.’
‘Thanks.’
Once I wanted it. A pinnacle of my executioner career. Out with monthly norms. Out with three killings a week. Out with boring Alex. Out with that fucking chaplain. They would mean nothing for me. Moreover it would my great help to Danny. It would be a change of everything.
This rescue is all that I have needed so much. But in the moment I don’t want it anymore. I want to save me from that. I am done and tired. Whatever happened I am still doing what I really hate.
‘You don’t look as one who won the lottery.’
‘I am just tired, I need time to put up with it.’
‘From now on unless otherwise…so, you will have enough time to rest. Hope the state of things as it is now doesn’t change and you will do just high profile cases which are pretty rare. One case a week or two weeks. ‘
It will never stop. I will entertain the public by hanging dissidents. I will become the face of the regime. It is far from what I really appreciate.
‘Now you go and take your charge.’
It sounded kind of abnormally for me. I am paid for hanging a person which could be my good friend. I am becoming the face of the regime. In full plumage. The essence of the regime. Being paid for causing insanity. Surrealism. It wouldn’t be as mad and…still I am already done for enjoying it.
‘There is a solid bonus. Your status is changing, and charges are getting higher.’
I stand up.
‘Do you want your children watching what I am supposed to be doing weekly?’
He didn’t reply. As a matter of fact, he understand what I mean but he tries just not to paint the picture too dark for me. 
I left and took my charge with a solid bonus. No options. Today evening I am going to wager and have a whiskey with Ull. Nothing could change my intention. I hope that the miners wont’t lay me down again.

*             *               *

In the catacombs and deep going corridors the rumbling of the public is still deafening me. I would run but I can’t as if I had a heavy burden on my back and the legs deny any acceleration. I am walking away from the rumbling. It is echoing through the concrete walls pressing down on me. Every door, every handle and every square meter is rumbling and roaring. Encaged inside a drum while a drummer is hammering as an amphetamined psycho.
Paul warned about the noise and its impact on me but I really didn’t count on that. It is something behind my understanding and physical perception. I am mentally scared and physically paralyzed. I can move but feeling like being in a stranger body.
Inside of me there is a barrel of poisonous stuff. It is leaking out hurting me. I am about to vomit. I haven’t eaten since the morning so I just got nothing in my stomach to vomit out.
Hours would pass before I get that it was a moment when I took this burden and I would never get away from it. I will carry that shit through all my life. Every day it will be getting heavier and keep pressing me with increasing intense.
What I saw there I will never stop seeing.
What I heard there I will never stop hearing.
What I felt there I will never stop feeling.
I will experience that nasty scene over and over again. Accompanied by the rumbling echoed by concrete walls. Then I will wake up deafened with a headache splitting my head in two parts.
Posttraumatic stress disorder.
What have I done?
I have done all what they wanted from me. They were demanding and finally I gave in. I couldn’t resist. I have done my job thoroughly as instructed. They will take me for example in those instruction books to picture an ideal execution for those who will just commence their way.
To underline my professionalism they will mention that I executed my friend. Fortunately, no one ever knows he was a friend of mine.
I don’t want to sleep. Sweating through the night. About six o’clock in the morning I manage to lose my consciousness for a couple of hours. Awaken at 8:13. No breakfast today. I haven’t eaten for twenty four hours. I have to swallow something otherwise I get worse.
Hank called be several times yesterday and once today. I called him back. He saw me leaving in haste. I looked like scared and concussed. I promise to visit him later today.
The eggs I used to break with a knife. I take an egg, I take the knife. It feels like a lever that I have to pull. So, do I.

                *           *           *

Thousands of flashes from the press zone. Any photographer is eager to catch every moment of the scene – an executioner speaking, sentenced person’s glance, lever, flashing background, thousands of faces looking forward to one’s death.
I can define any face in the stadium. They are all the same. Ecstasy. Eagerness. Craving for death. Pushing a hot dog in a mouth with eyes fixed on Vincent, on the noose around his neck, on the lever and of course on me – the one, who pulls the lever.
There are millions in front of their TVs longing for watching the hatch falling down and Vincent’s feet convulsing swinging in the air.
A headset on me. I must be heard by everyone. My speech is supposed to be heard by a sentenced person only but people need to hear that to know what this poor one will hear the last. Some of them just would like to come into his world. A sort of mental teasing. A sort of a wicked way to enjoy someone’s death and suffering. It is like you watch porn placing yourself into the scene.
…through hanging…
A hundred of thousands of people in the stadium keep silent. It is tranquil. Everyone is listening to me. They obey if it is about pleasure.
…in accordance with state law…
The silence has never been so loud. I am in the middle of the cemetery. No one says anything. All is listening to me. Every my word, every my step.
What would I say now to Vincent?
I am sorry…?
This moment has come. I look down at his feet and the hatch still fixed under there.
I step forward up to him. Take a bag. Before to cover his face I gave a silent farewell to him.
I never could read glances. I don’t believe it is possible. He made a deep breath. Stepping heavenward. He is about to commence it.
Vincent said:
‘Redeem.’
Vincent inhales deep and looks directly over the edge of the stadium as if searching for someone above there.
It is so fucking difficult. I decide to carry out all that as quick as possible.
I pulls the bag. Three steps. Pulls the lever. The hatch goes down. The knot slips and draws tight.
A minute of pure madness. He is convulsing. Jerking. His arms tied behind the back. He is fighting for his life. Husking. On the background there thousands of camera flashes. The public is going crazy in ecstasy. It has become unbearably noisy. I am deafened in several seconds as if bombs are falling down around me. Concussion.
Danny looks suppressed. No one expected that. All our expectances are smashed by thousands of mad screams.
Vincent stops jerking.
The doc proclaims him dead. And then…
A round of applause. They are all gone absolutely insane.
I hurry away.

*             *              *

We are sitting against each other separated by a dividing grid as the protocol strictly prescribes a divider between an executioner and condemned.  The truck is supposed to drive to the stadium along the streets crowded by thousands of people craving to watch Vincent being in a cage.
Humiliating someone you don’t really need humiliation itself you need that someone feels this humiliation, suffers from it and is deeply hurt by it.
 As far as know people have to go out and organize rows along the road. Thus, some are really crazy shouting out their hatred and contempt to Vincent but there are people who just pretend. Besides, their shouts and buzzing reflected against concrete walls are getting louder. If thousands voices are echoed you are pressed by tens of thousands.
I am overwhelmed not only by the noise. To be more precise, the noise provided a secondary impact. Just a background.  What really struck and suppressed me is that extreme expression of mass hatred.
A crowd has nothing from a human…or…a crowd is an essence of a human. Its true embodiment.

‘We need still a bit of time to put up with that.’
‘A cage,‘ said Vincent. ‘Do you know why we need that?’
He looked at me but not in expectance of an answer.
‘We need this to cage up things that we don’t want to get away. It would be right to say, if you don’t want to lose something you’d better cage it. Something fragile, something delicate. You searched for her in the crowd cause you want to keep her in sight, you are afraid of losing her out of your sight.’
‘Do you think they treat us like those delicate things?’
‘Somehow. Now they act absolutely deconcentrated in relation to everything what is behind the cage. All their attention is glued to us. Look around. It is a small army guarding us here. They are craving for the execution. A cruel one. They want it as nothing else. I am here, exposed to them but still one group is resisting the other.’
 
I truly admire Vincent. He looks so imperturbable as if it is just a green field with a blue lake in the middle of it.  His nonchalance in relation to the crowd makes me believe for a minute that there are really some exterrestrial power forming a sort of spherical vault and protecting herewith your soul from the impact made by the outer space.
So he left it somewhere behind the bars. The crowd picked it up and has no idea to apply it. You can emit an extreme hatred in relation to anyone in cage but this hatred would just deprive itself of any sense.
‘It is a pure circus. A kind of a zoo but as any zoo it has its paradox. You come to zoo to watch those exotic animals behind the bars. But, if you ask, these exotic animals…are you sure you don’t confuse sides? Where is that “behind the bars”? Who is behind the bars in reality? Who is that exotic animal? That one which in the cage? Or that one which is in front of it?’
Where is that “behind the bars”?
He used to keep calm. The crowd can’t shutter him. At least, not a human crowd. If you kept looking at him for a long time you would just reveal something for you that you have never seen before. Life is too much fuss around and him like a solid statue in the middle of it. Over it. Just keep looking at him.
Vincent shows his indifference. He learns not to hate.
‘What should I think about in the last hour?’
‘Maybe remember something?’
‘The whole life we used to follow ways and appreciate things which now don’t have any weigh. They were all just empty things. We all fucked up. Not because we are here, but cause we were as palled and grey as the regime made us. I fucked up, Jack, cause now I feel…I am sure I want to die…you know why.’
‘I have nothing to remember,’ I said. ‘Isn’t that a proof that I never existed?’
‘Do we exist at all? Do we die? Maybe it just an activation and deletion. We are created to be deleted. So what, Jack, should I think about in the last hour?’
‘The best, I guess, is to evoke something precious in your mind. I believe everyone has it. It has been your only life. A forgotten moment of the universe. You were just a moment, not more, but you deserved your time somehow. So, if you know it is…the end, so take all the best from your moment and experience it all at once on that night.’
He nodded.
All has its end. We have achieved the stadium. The truck drives in and the gates goes closed. The noise is so intense that it feels like the walls and stadium itself are going to crash down. Before we have left the truck and the guard could hear us again I lean forward closer to Vincent.
‘I received letters from someone who allegedly managed through the camp and now working in the underground. Maybe you know him?’
He nodded.
‘I know the man who could know him. Ask Ulf about the sleeper.’
‘Sleeper?’
The gates closed. It isn’t loud anymore and he can’t reply directly.
‘There are men tough like a coffin nail. They can’t be rational because their self-preservation instinct is gone.’
The guards are everywhere. Besides, we are being led by a heavily armed squad of guys resembling war criminals. They move like a single unit. Synchronized. As if they are feeling and knowing in advance about each other’s intentions. They make an impression of giving us no opportunity to hope for an escape. No chance.

*                *                *

‘It is heating up there,’ Vincent said.
If you ask, from time to time it is easier to be a prey than a killer. He looks ok and me…I feel guilty. That is how disorders begin.
We are in the waiting room. Two warden in and some more outside waiting for a signal to lead us out – an executioner and a sentenced person. A sullen noise. It is like we are sitting in a deep rocky cave and an avalanche is rolling down on outside there. We are trapped in this cave but still alive.
I want to say him that it is being intensely worked on the plan but I can’t. Sure, he knows it and doesn’t really need me to say that. It is just my wish to say something. It looks like I feel guilty. I want to say that I am not a regime’s guy on a mission, I am fighting, I am resisting, I am undermining and waiting for a moment to deliver a hit.
‘It’s the kernel of it,’ I fumbled.
‘What do you mean?’
‘How do they manage? You see, I am the one who should kill you and why;’.
I stopped. You can’t say all you need.
‘I hope it is not in vain,’ Vincent said.
‘It is all in vain.’
It is all fucking in vain. He will die then another one takes his place. I will die. Another one takes my place. Endless substitution.
Whatever you do. It is all end up in nowhere. It all has really no toll. No consequences. If generally taken. I don’t believe in butterfly effect. It has burnt out somewhere in front of the regime’s walls. The concrete walls letting nothing in and out. Like rocks. All in all is damned to die at them.
‘All I know I that I wouldn’t die with that thought. It would be like I am dying in vain. We must hope for the better.’
I am supposed to give courage now to him but it is vice versa. He is looking forward to his death in courage. I will lead him there, onto the scaffold, but I feel completely discouraged. To be more precise, I am kind of boiling with hatred. 
‘Hope, it is all coming over the scaffold. Somehow. It is sort of doom. It comes the day when I end up there cause it seems to me that all is doomed to that the scaffold to some extent. It is not the place you pass just by. Inevitably you get there.‘
And it is all. You stay there forever.
The warden came in. It is time.
We stand up. First goes a senior warden. I follow him and followed by a group of armed wardens with Vincent walking in chains.
If I want to say something to him I have to do it now.
‘Rest in peace.’
‘I will,’ he said.
The door goes open. We walk away.

*                *                *

Tomorrow is a day of execution. I will execute Vincent Oakman. My friend. I can’t sleep. I would like to have a couple of glasses. I enter the pub and order a couple of glasses. People are watching something on TV.
Some of them says that tomorrow, at eight o’clock Vincent Oakman will be executed. Then they go deep in discussion of justice.
To each his own. He deserves death. It is what people think justice is.
I don’t say a word. I am sipping my whiskey and hope that to each his own. Just wait a while.















MACABER

In a camp:
Slavery and freedom are the same things. Anyway, we confuse them.

1848. A number of days between my registration in the camp and the day of release. Wardens escorted me to the train into the city. The whole wagon in my disposal. Today I am the only one who leaves the place.
Ten minutes before the dog promised me to meet in sixteen months when he would be free. We exchanged our real names.
‘I don’t have a person closer.’ I said to him. ‘You have to survive.’
I will wait him there. Having read my name once again in my release certificate supposed to be produced in the employment and registration center immediately on arrival in the city I sincerely believed that name didn’t suit to me. With the certificate I received a month minimum living wage. I forgot that one needs money to live. They called me by name but I didn’t react. They had to repeat. My true name is Macaber. If someone asked me my name I would say – Macaber. I needed my previous name for registrations, public services, employment and so on. It was my paper name. My true name is Macaber and it is not going to change.
The train started. My glance fixed on the dog. When he turned around and dragged himself along I couldn’t keep myself from crying. Three and a half years slaving in pair. I was just unable to communicate with no one but him. They tore my Siamese twin away from me. Goosebumps covered my whole body. What should I do without him? No one anymore to trust. Left for dead here in the middle of the desert. In a month snows would devour the life here.
On arrival I set off to the employment center.
‘The underground needs reinforcement. Hands are extremely wanted there.’
I received the order. A number and address of the section where I would work. A name of a certain man I should come to with that order today. The place wasn’t far away from the center so I managed to get there quite soon. The man took the order and said to me to start on the following day.
The city hadn’t changed even a little. All was the same as if I had never left it for those years. I wouldn’t have any trouble finding my home. As a matter of fact, it wasn’t my home anymore. During these years I hadn’t been paying for meters and services. The state confiscated till I would have my debts settled. True to say, it wasn’t real anymore. Newcomers informed me about that. Those who came back were homeless.
‘Trailers in the underground. Former prisoners live there till they are done with debts.’ A grin of despair combined with repent. ‘You would need several years to pay back.’
I had a walk around the city. I visited places where I daily used to spend hours. Former glory places. They weren’t glorious anymore. They never were glorious. It all was a bubble which burst many years ago. No friends. No handshakes. No trust. Empty spaces. As if I had never ever lived here.
As a matter of fact I got nothing to struggle for. There were just two options for me – to die after years in a frozen desert deep in the underground or die with a rifle from a bullet exploded in my head. Be honest with yourself. There was no option. Nevertheless, one step at a time. Before to die I would like to damage as much as possible. For that I needed a piece of time to get prepared.
‘What is your name?’ skinny but still firm guy with jackhammer in his arms.
‘Call me Macaber.’
‘A weird name.’
‘To each his own.’
He nodded.
‘That’s right. There is not much to choose from. Jackhammer, sledgehammer, shovel, trolleys and rails. What is yours?’
‘I like the thing’ I nodded to the jackhammer he held.
He smiled.
‘It is weighty.’
‘Rails look weightier.’
After an hour of working he (as a matter of fact, his name was Dock) said that I seemed a firm one despite my poor appearance. He didn’t know why my name was Macaber.
He was released two years ago from the camp. It was a different camp.
‘It is much easier here. Food is better. You work your twelve hours. Sunday is free.’
‘Still no home.’
‘If you aren’t a drunker you will pay it out in five or seven years unless the law isn’t changed.’
He told me much about a life of a former prisoner. There was not much positive in it. As far as I got I had become one of the most neglected persons in the state. Partially no rights. People were looking askance at you cause your appearance were totally giving you away. Black dust on  worn cloths, hair, skin. Society scum.
‘Yeah, man. You got no rights, no privileges, but still we aren’t those slaved whores damned to live through real hell. Anyway, our asses aren’t that damaged. Besides,’ he grinned. ‘You aren’t going to be eaten here. The worst you will be robbed or just killed with a shovel but not eaten. Look, I’ve spent many a night battling nightmares. The camp isn’t there,’ he pointed to the left with the hand as if showing where his camp is. ‘It is here,’ touching his temple.
He was already drunk but appeared getting sober momently when talking about the camp.
‘They pushed him down and started hitting his head against the concrete floor. I pretended I was sleeping but I counted the hits. I counted till fifteen and stopped. My hands were tremoring giving me away. Nevertheless, hits didn’t stop. I opened an eye a little and was about to vomit. They were sawing his head off with a piece of a saw blade stolen from the repairs.’ He swallowed and made a tug of the cheapest beer. ‘That is why, my jackhammer isn’t overstressing me. In my dreams I see them sawing a head off.’
I am grateful to Dock. He helped on board. He got me acquainted with the guys. He showed me and explained the life under the surface. At my first day in the city I had no idea how I would integrate. I avoided thoughts about adaptation to an after camp life but thanks to him I hadn’t really to make it into a big deal.
I told him about the dog. He said there is always a vacancy.
‘We aren’t counted here. If you die today, no one would notice. Actually, we aren’t alive. All they know about us is that we are digging through the ground here.’
Dock never dig too deep into the things avoiding to complicate them cause “everything and everyone here was just a dusty moment followed by another one.” The underground was a blind side of a tremendous class society iceberg. People knew about this side cause everything used to have one. The fact you knew it didn’t mean you saw it. We were neglected, abused, depreciated and finally degraded to a used rag rotting somewhere in a forgotten dump heap. There was an advantage in that.
What makes an iceberg dangerous? Its body hidden under the surface. You don’t see that but you know that it matters cause it brings death. You get panicked cause you aren’t controlling what is beneath there.
From time to time, usually in the nights, we were getting out onto the surface to breathe a fresh air without dust. We took the cheapest beer and crawled to the riverside. It was a pitch dark place without any lights. A cold fresh air coming from the water made you drunk a way more efficient than beer which rather stressed the stomach. For a while I got into positive moods feeling a kind of calm blessedness which usually comes when you are drunk enough to abstract yourself from the outer hustle. There was no magic in that but a sufficiently high oxygen content which made a Buddhist lost in a trance out of you.
In an hour the blessedness evaporated and my hands started trembling.
‘In a year you aren’t drinking beer from the mugs’ Dock laughed having noticed my fixed glance at my trembling hands.
Suddenly I got – I never saw them drinking from the mugs. Only bottles.
‘Jackhammer?’ I asked him.
He nodded.
‘Your hands will be strong and firm like steel pillars but they will be trembling. The bottles’ he raised his. ‘Are narrow necked.’
Day after day. Week after week. We were running the time down. Once I asked Dock:
‘What made you survive in the camp?’
‘No idea. Instinct. What else?’
‘Have you heard something about turmoil?’
 ‘You mean explosions?’
‘Not only.’
‘It is all I know.’
‘Don’t you think we could have a chance?’
He shook his head no.
‘It is people, it is arms. Preps need time and sources. As for me, I don’t know who to trust. Now you tell someone you are going to start revolution and in an hour your body hangs in the noose. If you ask, I am in if we have at least thousand men. The national army is great enough to suppress any uprising. Actually we got nothing to lose here but still, you see, we need an army.’
Rational but lacking a necessary spark. I had been reckoning on actual sate of things and couldn't come up with a single useful thought. Always was too complicated and sure Dock was right – it was a matter of trust. There were not friends. Any attempt of uniting even a small group of people was damned to failure cause no one trusted no one.
I was getting pretty desperate and suddenly a coincidence helped me. There was, as it is said, a silver lining in the dark clouds.
A weighty piece of tile fell down on a worker’s head. He got dead. A common thing here. The guys decided to bury him.  We brought him into the offshoot supposed to be a kind of technical connection corridor for service technicians. Thus, I took the shovel I started to dig a grave for him. Not to leg behind the plan the guys came back to work. Someone took my jackhammer to substitute me for the time I was burying the guy.
I drove the shovel into the ground and met an iron box. I tried to take the box out but it was too heavy. I tried to open but it was closed. Without a second thought I broke the lock with the shovel. Having opened the box I got stoned and was about to faint. A dozen of machine guns. For a minute I was just staring at it being completely shocked.
It struck me that someone buried it here and that someone would come here to bury it out. I filled in the cache and dig out another grave for the dead. From that moment on I didn’t stop thinking about the cache even for a second. I decided to keep an eye on the offshoot. Sooner or later someone would come.
I had to wait longer that supposed. I worked two shifts claiming an insomnia but in two days I couldn’t keep my eyes open anymore. I was falling asleep with a jackhammer working in my arms. It was exceedingly noisy but I couldn’t stand it anymore. Dock was regularly looking at me suspiciously. There was a question in his eyes and I felt obliged to give an answer.
I showed him the box. From the moment on we watched the offshoot in shifts.
In two days when we went far enough from the offshoot someone crawled into there. I urged after him. This man might have noticed me. When I was about to look around the corner into the offshoot he directed a gun right into my head and said:
‘Don’t look at me. You turn around and fuck off here. It is pretty loud here, they don’t hear a shoot.’
I had nothing to lose.
‘I want to participate.’
‘Just fuck off, man. You don’t want it.’
I reiterated to myself that I really had nothing to lose.
‘You can shoot but I don’t go. In any case I am a dead man. All I want is to participate.’
He dragged me into the offshoot.
‘So, you have seen my face. You got no choice anymore.’ He said.
I nodded.
‘What is your name?’
‘Call me Macaber.’
‘It is not a name. Don’t lie to me.’ He pressed the gun to my neck.
‘My real name,’ I was stuttering and preparing to fall an eternal sleep. ‘Is somewhere on the paper. It doesn’t matter  anymore. I am Macaber. That is the name.’
‘Why Macaber?’
I swallowed but my mouth was completely dry.
‘My appearance.’
That was how I met the sleeper.
 ‘What are you able to do?’ He asked me.
‘You mean shooting at people?’
‘Shooting isn’t a big deal.’
‘I know that you might be harshly needing people. Can you please lower the gun?’
He lowered.
‘If you ask, you need leaflets. A targeted audience inhabits the same district. It is how they planned the city. To win people you need to speak to them and come in their homes. A leaflet is just a piece of paper. Everyone got a door and there is always a thin gap there.’
Somehow he didn’t let my words go. He looked like I managed to make him swallow the bait.
‘Who are you?’ he asked.
‘I am Macaber. I know something about guerrilla warfare. Once I killed two men for a piece of bread. I saw a man eating a man and,’ I reached out my hand. ‘I worked in an newspaper.’
He nodded and shook my hand.


ARTICLE

Giant rats seen in the underground! People feel threatened.
The public utilities worker, Brad Lowen, did his common sewers check when something strange drew his close attention.
“As usual, I made rounds checking the pipelines for damages, rifts and so on. You know, people are calling the authorities complaining about stinking from the cellars and WC, those bowls clogged and that shit coming over the edges and so on. That is I am supposed to react or just do some those checking. It is my job, so I don’t moan around and just do it. That day I saw something really strange far there in the dark. We got there some electrical issues, the bulbs. I came closer and saw that giant rat. I was pretty scared cause had never seen things like that before. But it was just a half of a rat. It was eaten. Something or someone devoured it.”
According to Brad, he discovered the find in the course of inspection of the fourth ring, quite far from the administrative center. He is in charge for the fifth district. To be more precise, he is a part of a team assigned to the fifth district. Divided into smaller groups responsible for definitive subdictricts they work in shifts around the clock.
In the course of the survey carried out through the district utilities departments of all the districts of the third and third rings we asked a number of workers and officials about giant rats.
One of the workers of the forth ring mentioned that once he noticed something looking similar to droppings of a giant rat.
“I used to come across rats during the checks. It is a common thing in the sewers. It is swarming with rats but somehow you are getting used to them and then you just don’t pay attention them. Just take like those flies outside. So, I know how rats’ dropping look like. That day I just wondered what was there looking like dropping but too much for being rats’ droppings. I lighted with torch and looked closer – there were droppings, they were really huge, but they were droppings.”
Thus, him and a couple of other workers admitted finding traces of different kind supposedly belonging to giant rats.
The Chief of the public utilities fourth ring replied to the question about giant rats:
“People say…it is being rumored that there are giant rats. Not much but still. Four or five case of finding traces, droppings, a half of a giant rat, but there is really no fact witnessing a certain number of rats. One rat, half eaten, tells us that just such a rat can exist in nature but it was only one rat.”
However, it is said that workers, especially those of the fourth ring, are really scared and from time to time hesitate to go down into the sewers for making checks. The local authorities of districts from 7 to 10 are taking measures.
“We build groups. Now it is becoming practice. You see, in our job there is no real difference between day and night shifts, you work in eternal darkness taking into account regular electrical failures happening cause of damaged cables gnawed by rats. Thus, we build groups of two workers. People are hesitating to go down alone but grouped they are ready to do the job.”
A research professor of the state central university, Ruth Attus, commented this phenomenon:
“There  are species which can be considered giant rats but hey are known to science and given precise names. However they are still not as giant as the rat found in the sewer. Here we speak about rat’s size on a par with that of a dog. All we can is just speculating about mutations and causes of this mutations. So, we can suppose that we are unwillingly referring to possible military or some chemical experiments carried out secretly. ”
Thus, we can’t help but agreeing with the professor. All we know is just speculations of different kinds and a fact that it was a rat of unusual size. Nothing more. Still, people are scared and hesitate to go down the sewers. Basing on that, we can conclude that the citizens should be careful on the streets and in the underground especially during the night time but there is no reason to panic cause there is no exhaustive evidence base witnessing influx of giant rats.






















JACK

We learn history to see causal links rooted in conflicts, wars and numerous revolutions having caused millions of unnecessary deaths and lost generations.

July, 14

When I went out on the street I looked into the both directions. There were the same people I used to see there every day. The shadow man might have taken a free day? It was strange because I was still free and no one followed me. It meant something but I didn’t see the signs. I went down into the underground and in a half an hour I envisioned the circus.
Wherever I went I was constantly looking back. In a crowd I was searching for the shadow man following me but I didn’t see him.
Entering the circus I didn’t see Ulf and Nutt monitoring the entrance from the deep part cause I was entering from the sun side.
‘A good disguise,’ I said.
‘Have you seen him?’ Nutt nodded into the entrance direction.
I turned around and quite far from the entrance I noticed a certain man I had never seen before but he looked similar to the shadow man. The clothing is different.
‘It is him,’ Nutt said.
‘Don’t you think we should lead him into the sewer?’ Ulf asked Nutt.
‘It is better not to attack now, too early.’
Ulf nodded.
‘You are right. Let him watch us so far.’
‘Today I am going to visit Alaric. It is going to be the last visit.’
‘As a matter of fact, why are you still free?’ Ulf asked me.
I shrugged my shoulders.
‘I don’t know why but if you ask, they might be planning something.’
From the back wall we were still watching the man. He couldn’t see us cause we were too deep inside.
‘Gaise and his team work under the stadium already. Hope they will have managed the work on time.’
‘Look there!’  Nutt said.
The man started nearing the entrance.
‘What about the hole?’ he asked Ulf.
‘Open.’
‘Then follow me.’
He sneaked into the floor deepening located under the facilities. We followed.
‘From his point he can see everyone working with decorations, unloading and so on. The hole is open, so he might be thinking we are in there.’
The shadow man entered and disappeared somewhere in the dark side. For a while we couldn’t see him, at least me. He acted really pretty invisible.
‘Focus on the hole,’ Nutt whispered.
In a minute he appeared at the hole. He didn’t hurry and sat down waiting.  Then he moved nearer to the hole and looked into.
‘No chance,’ whispered Nutt. ‘It is too dark there. He has to move into.’
‘Not sure he would take that risk,’ Ulf said.
He took out a torch and directed it into the hole. After a minute of checking he switched the torch off and disappeared back into the darkness.
Then he flashed for a sec in the entrance and vaporized.
We got off from our hide and came to the hole. Looking into it Ulf said:
‘Now you better go to Alaric and we go under there to watch the sewer. He could go somewhere underneath to watch our place down there. Or the underground.’
‘Anyway, if he doesn’t find anything in the underground he gets that it leads to the sewer,’ I supposed.
‘He doesn’t. We have holes in the underground as well. It would be great if he would be mistaken and start work on the underground.’
‘I would,’ I said.
‘It is time,’ Nutt said.
‘Vincent told me about man called sleeper.’
They both looked at me.
‘Why do you need him?’ Ulf asked me.
‘This one knows who wrote the letters.’
Ulf shook his head.
‘No, Jack. Not now. It is not my desire. The sleeper wouldn’t meet you. He is a kind of person who never deals with unknown men. Even if I said a word for you he wouldn’t. Forget it for a while.’
I nodded accepting his words.
‘You will get what you want but wait a bit. During the coming weeks something is going to happen. That is why it wouldn’t be appropriate now and the sleeper pays a lot attention to confidentiality especially in such a crucial moments.’
‘I wait.’
He nodded and added:
‘We have to go, Jack.’
‘Sure,’ I agreed. ‘I will greet Alaric from you.’
They both disappeared in the darkness of the hole. I left the circus and took the underground to the central prison to visit Alaric. Now I was going all-in. Anyway I had to act. I decided to use only the underground cause it was pretty overcrowded and consequently I had more chances to win the time there being a way too difficult to track.
My ID still was valid if they let me on the territory of the prison. The same warden. Everything was the same. It made me positive but paranoia…somehow I thought that they were trying to act as usual to divert my attention. I was going to be prepared for everything. All their unexpected plans should be pretty expected.
Alaric was lying on the bed. When I entered the cell he sat.
I sat down opposite to him.
‘How are you?’ I said.
He didn’t look positive enough for my ironical kidding.
‘If you still remember I gave you time to mull over your last will.’
‘Not to die in vain.’
He pulled a long face.
‘No arrests, nothing happens, execution level is sinking, all that people do is just talking of armed people running around and killing each other. But those are just rare cases. If you ask, something is in the way,’ I shook my head negatively.
He was staring at me trying to read something from the stuff I was talking.
‘Alaric, the plans are the same, the stadium is still there and you are going to be hanged there as before. They say, there will be some midget show…as if you know they will conduct you in the last way or something like that. It is just talking.’
I opened his dossier and set up for writing last will.
‘What do you write?’ he asked me.
‘To scatter your ashes over the circus.’
‘You are fucking freak!’
‘Yes I am,’ I smiled.
‘But I don’t want my ashes be scattered over there. Besides, I am going to be hanged not burnt.’
‘First of all, they won’t uphold any your wish like not to die in vain or blow them all. And secondly, they won’t scatter your ashes. No one will care about it. They will just burn down your body and that is all.’
That was the moment to ask – which death would Alaric choose?
You’d better ask – which death would he avoid?
If you looked at him once, especially here in the cell, you would get that this one wouldn’t die lying in the cell or getting sick and die from pneumonia. He knew that he was born and doomed to die in a fight.
‘What are the plans?’ he asked.
I looked at him and just thought how it would be better to say for the warden not to get the thing.
‘The same as before. The stadium and hanging. I will do what I am supposed to do.’
I closed the dossier and stood up. Alaric let his eyes go down. I came up to him and tapped him on the shoulder.
‘I will do the job, man, you can rely on me.’
He got what meant. I hope. He looked into my eyes.
‘Jack, I am kind of getting what is coming on. You can’t even imagine what expects you all there.’
His eyes were intensely burning with rage and  passion. There was something in that little man. I lacked of it. People I worked for and all my acquaintances, they all lacked of it. What did I know about that midget? Not much. But I had no doubt that if you got him unchained you wouldn’t avoid a massacre.
They kept him in cell for a long time. Enough for him to accumulate that rage spilling over the edges. He knew something we didn’t. He was planning something and I wasn’t not sure I wanted to be dedicated in it.
The warden led me to the exit as he used to do for hundreds of times. When he touched the handle to open the exit door I asked him:
‘Last time,  you talked about the executioner who disappeared.’
‘Yes, I did.’
‘What do you know about him?’
He came closer to me.
‘We are not supposed to discuss that. For you to know, I am not really well informed but somehow I am sure he wasn’t just away.’
He opened the door. I stepped out.
Before to go to Joy I decided to visit the bookery and talk a bit to Ull about nothing.
Underway I thought much about the warden. To be more precise about people like that warden.
Once I knew a man. Not personally though but people who knew him personally…a man who knew him, cause he was an intensely private and solitary person. He never talked to anyone except of work matters. The man I knew who knew him was a pretty attentive man who didn’t need much talking to make a clear picture of a man he dealt with. He was a certain type of a man. So, he said that man had used to perform a lot of nitty-gritty routine work. He came punctually, he worked punctually and he finished punctually. He wasn’t much of a talker and people used to say he was a piece of crazy man who usually never knew anything about the world around them. Sheltered in itself.
So, once they came and found his place empty. They thought he got sick. He didn’t come next day as well. The chiefs visited him but no one opened the door. They called the police. Those broke the door. There wasn’t a soul there. He vanished.
It was the time when the regime just came. It was a closed state. That man got the thing and worked hard on his escape. So, he was thought to be a nitty-gritty nerd knowing nothing about that life but turned out to be a way smarter than all of them together.
What did I know about the warden who never talked and that shadow man who no one knew?

‘Again the miners?’ Ull laughed out.
‘The miners, I still hope.’
‘Dum sp;ro, sp;ro?’
I took a glass of whiskey. 
‘Tell me,’ I began. ‘Suppose that you and your family is going be arrested what would you do?’
I overwhelmed him with the question. It was not that difficult to imagine the situation but at the same time it was partially impossible. You never knew how you would react if you got a rifle barrel in your mouth. It was a matter of a practical experience.
Ull was a man of gambling sphere. He used to deal with turbulence.
He looked up to the ceiling. Then right. His eyes just roamed around for a while.
‘It is all about family. If you are alone you’d better flee, if you got a family you’d better flee. In other words, you’d better do everything to save your soul and yours’ souls. Anyway, it is a matter…it depends.’
‘Such a stupid question,’ I said.
‘If it isn’t stupid, it is all a pretty complicated thing. It is not complicated to answer, I mean, but the situation itself. It seems to be obvious – flee, run, escape, but if you got a family…it is not that easy. Why do you ask?’
Why did I ask? It was a too stupid question with such an easy answer which solved no troubles I had got in.
I made a sip. He followed.
‘I got in troubles, Ull. It is all I can say.’
‘So serious?’
I nodded.
‘Can I help?’
‘Thank you, Ull, but I am afraid you can’t.’
‘I am not quite aware of the troubles you got into but I know for sure if your only life is endangered it is better to do your best to save it. All means are approved. See, Jack, if you need money I help you, if you need a place to hide I help you but I can’t put my family at stake.’
‘I have a place to hide but…you got to know, something is coming on.’
I looked around another time.
‘Keeping an eye on someone?’
‘I am shadowed, Ull. It means there is a man who;’
‘Tracking you, I know enough to understand what is happening. This building, I got it quite cheap and I tell you why. Cause of the massacre that was here many years ago. Follow me.’
He stood up and headed to the door with inscription “Stuff only”. I followed. We walked downstairs, then straight and finally turned to the right into the last room. We entered and he switched on. There were boxes with bottles. Ull pointed to the top side of the wall.
‘Do you see that?’
There were numerous holes caused by bullets. It was obviously an intense shooting.
I nodded.
‘Those guys hid there. It was kind of grocery or something like that. There,’ He pointed to the right corner of the floor. ‘Was a sort of vault for four men. The owner sheltered them. Honestly, it was a hopeless thing. Those four guys wouldn’t have changed anything. The owner got arrested and likely executed and those guys…you see the walls.’
We kept silent for some time. My eyes were roaming along the walls resembling sieve. Pretty difficult to imagine what was going on here after the police had come.
‘It was a common thing. Wherever you go, find a basement and look at the walls. If you ask, Jack, stepping back never go down these vaults and cellars. You deprive yourself of any option to escape.’
‘Ull, have you ever heard about the executioner who disappeared traceless? I ask you, cause if someone knows it is only you do.’
He had a calm and cold face. It was gambling that made him look like a stone in any occasion.
‘Several years ago there was a fella who used to bet from time to time. You could call him a common drunker and you it wouldn’t sound overrated…so, once when he was drunk again, he mentioned that his acquaintance had entrusted him into a secret like there had been a guy in the law enforcement who had disappeared and no one could find him. It was all he said. Why do you ask that?’
‘The warden in the prison said to me when saw the shadow man.’
‘That is what I wanted to tell you, Jack. There are people I know, they used to be informed, they said that you can’t just disappear but you can if it is needed. ‘
‘What do you mean?’
‘What do you expect me to mean? I don’t know what it means.’
I shrugged my shoulders.
‘Don’t tell me anything but ask me if you need a help.’
‘You once mentioned you had a bottle of whiskey.’
‘I never tasted a better one,’ He smiled. ‘My office.’
His office was a small room of sixteen square meters. I never was a style connoisseur but the room looked noble. Especially those two old fashioned chairs on the both sides of the table. They witnessed the time before the regime. Maybe it was the thing that made me love them.
‘Chivas Regal, eighteen years.’
‘Where you got it?’
‘Out of the magic box,’ He laughed. ‘A good friend presented me that many years ago.’
We tasted.
‘I am not alone, Ull. There is a good girl…it is like there is something between us. Two years ago I executed her boyfriend. I didn’t know who he was. She told me a story and I checked his name and…then I saw my code name in his dossier.’
‘She knows?’
I shook my head negatively.
‘Can’t tell her, I just can’t.’
‘That is right. Don’t tell. There are things that should be there where they are.  Pandora opened a jar, Jack. Strictly speaking it was a jar not a box, but anyway, she shouldn’t have opened. The same is about you, keep it closed. In my ages, I know that  evil contends with good. So, don’t tell. It would make nothing bad to anyone.’
‘Ull, it is just…I am constantly focused on that. I mean it is lying at my door.’
He tapped me on the shoulder.
‘Still small voice, close it in the farthest room of you head and forget. It wouldn’t do good to anyone. No matter what that small voice wants there, ignore that. And now, if you feel that tomorrow you have to flee, you should get off your ass and rush to her so long as you can.’
I nodded. He was right. He was always right.
I shook his hand.
‘Thanks, Ull.’
I embraced him.
‘Thanks, Ull. Hope I will come back to have another whiskey.’
‘Rejoice oh young man in thy youth. Fight tooth and nail and come back to have another whiskey.’
I have barely closed the door.
‘Hey, Ull. If the miners win keep my wager for me.’
He smiled and raised the glass for me.
I left.
It was already late enough and I wasn’t sure she was still awake but I didn’t care. I had still a half an hour way to her and was experiencing Ull’s words again and again.
No basement. No cellar.
Of course it was the thing I was focused on. I went to her so long as I was free to walk. I didn’t look back, I didn’t search for the shadow man in that summer darkness. I walked forward as if grasping for my last breaths. I was getting clear for me that it could be the last evening I could walk that unhindered.
Somehow I felt that today I wouldn’t fail. I hoped. Today I needed her warmth. I needed her eyes. I needed her face. I needed her hair. I needed her hands. I needed her voice and I needed I needed I needed.
Could it be that I felt that need because something deep inside of me knew that this day was the last one.
It was coming on.
I ran upstairs. I knocked the door. It was my heart I heard pounding.
She opened. She was still awake.
Not a word fallen. I entered. Her eyes so bright. Her lips so tender.








JACK

My grandpa was a war hero. The manifest never left his table.
At war you have to kill. Thus, you shouldn’t confuse impunity with soldier duty. You enemy is most likely a soldier as well.

July, 15

It was a Sunday morning when I left her.
Ulf and the team have been working all days around for the sake of plan b and I don’t want to stand aside. My help wouldn’t be unnecessary. I am running down the stairs and when the entrance door enters my field of sight someone delivers me a tremendous punch from the back and starts hitting me inhumanly against my rips and back. He is frighteningly fast. I had no chance. With my face against the floor I am not expecting to have any chance. I don’t see him and honestly I don’t want to.
The only I really care about is my face. I have closed it with the hands.
Then I got - they are three. I have never seen them before. What do they want from me? I don’t understand a thing. I am taken aback and my head hurts much. The first punch is too heavy for me. This one must be o boxer.
Suddenly a stranger appears out of thin air in front of me. He is slim but firmly built. His clothes are black and close-fitting. A dead paled face. Thin lips. Thin nose. He turns around and his assistances follow him leading me under the arms. In spite of having being knocked out I am still able to move my legs.
They got me in a van with the inscription “public utilities”. I looked at one of them and asked:
‘What the hell is going on?’
As usual I should have kept my mouth shot. I used to suffer from the consequences. This one is a real boxer. The next punch is a pure demonstration of mastery. To the jaw. So hard that the whole way I am laying at the floor with increasing pain in my head.
In a half an hour…or in a hour…I couldn’t still catch up with time and space the van stopped. The doors go open and the guys take me at the feet and drag me out. Then they grab me under the arms and lead into the door right against the van.
I managed to look around and the place they have brought me to is familiar to me. I recognize it.
After endless minutes of brutal dragging along the walkways they throw me into the cell.
Behind the door they are talking intensely about something. I definitely missed the beginning and don’t catch up with all that is being talked but I managed to get the ending.
‘The cage?’
‘It is being worked on it.’
‘We need it soon. How long are they going to build it?’
‘The decision was made yesterday. The age is big one, four sections. They say two of them are ready. So, they are planning to get ready with that till the evening.’
Then they disappeared.

What the fucking cage are they building there? I have some suspicions and those don’t look much promising for me.
There is a department with focus on tortures only. Their duty is to create new kind of tortures. These ones have to show a better efficiency. Nails under fingernails is still working but out of some reasons we need to extend the variety. The authorities is exerting pressure and people have to emit more ideas. That is why it seems to me that the guys there have developed something that should hurt me really much. A cage with four sections.
It is a pretty bad message for me. Those tortures were something right from hell. They used to draw inspiration from middle ages. Then they borrowed methods applied by the third Reich and those of Japanese soldiers.
There is a pyramid-shaped seat with the point inserted into the anus with pressure made on it.
Besides, it is really difficult to elaborate something better than a common saw, drill, hammer, screw driver. For animal lovers they have a rat in a bucket. They put a rat on your belly and cover it with a bucket. Then they start heating the bucket. It is getting too hot inside and the rat wants to live. What the way is it going to choose? Right, through you belly.
Hanging shows a pretty high efficiency. To clear out…it is not a noose around the neck. It is a noose around the genitals. And so on.
That is why the message is quite bad for me.
The door opened and this man whose dead face is going to be the last what I am supposed to see in the end of my life came into.
‘Do you know who I am?’
‘No.’
‘I am your executioner. I hope you are able to deal with that somehow. You have to show your inner strength. As far as you know, I am here to inform your about time and method of your execution.’
‘And my last will.’
‘And your last will. Surely. I was recommended to decline this right but I should say I consider that the rules must be followed without any exceptions. As any sentenced person you have a right for the last will.’
A man of rules. Anyway he doesn’t make an impression of a sadist. So long as he is not that one I like him.
‘So, what is your last will.’
‘Am I supposed to be tortured?’
‘As  an executioner I am supposed to carry out the torture process. As far as I am informed you will not be tortured. I have no actual order for your torture. According to that, I can assure you that you won’t be tortured.’
‘The method?’
‘Hanging.’
As soon as he pronounced the word it dawned on me that the place will be the stadium.
‘And the place?’ I asked.
‘The stadium. It seems to me I haven’t surprised you.’
I shook my head.
‘You haven’t. Friday?’
‘Friday.’
‘So, we will be two,’ I said nodding.
‘That is right.’
I looked at his face once again to memorize how the face of the regime looks like.
‘Everything should have a face. Vincent Oakman and Alaric are the face of the enemy. I am the face of treason and you…I don’t know your name.’
The expression of his face never changed. He looked as hacked of stone.
‘It is my fault. I should have presented myself. My apologies. My name is Lictor Galgen.’
‘Why I don’t know you, Lictor? I don’t remember you.’
‘I am specializing in hanging. You are an electrocutor. That is why you never heard of me.’
He looked older than me. He must be an experienced one.
‘How many?’
‘Two hundred 0ne’
‘Stunning taking into consideration that hanging is not as popular as electrocuting. I should say, Lictor, I am glad that such a master will hang me.’
‘I am grateful to you for respectfulness but I have to ask about your last will.’
‘My last will would be not to be tortured.’
‘You see it is not up to me.’
I knew it didn’t depend on him.
‘I have one more thing to inform you about. Now it is being worked on a certain cage. Either today in the evening or tomorrow you will be placed into the cage located on the central square.’
I was astonished by these words.
‘You mean like…sort of a zoo? Are they gone completely mad there?’
‘I am not supposed to discuss the decisions made. As for a moral aspect I don’t make any judgements.  However, under the given conditions, if I consider the case personally, I wouldn’t go there and enjoy encaged people. It is not out of disrespect for the state. It is barely my personal attitude. I didn’t use to draw any pleasure from watching people encaged or tortured. Especially if I am supposed to execute those people. That is all.’
Having heard such a speech I could barely have any questions and arguments against what has been said.
‘Recently a condemned person has asked me whether I had to deal with the demons after I had executed an army of people. I said I had cause it was true. There are many of them in my army. So, Lictor, do you have to deal with those hanged demons?’
‘I live this time and this place to hang those demons. No matter how frightening they look and cry cause I know that I am supposed to hang them all. ‘
‘Sound like a predestination.’
‘There must be someone who will do that.’
No doubt, such a man isn’t the one who can be frightened.
He stood up and knocked the door.
The door went open and he left. Total absence of emotionality. A true executioner. A cold stone.
The cage. I am literally shocked. Electrocuted without the chair. We will be executed together and we will be exposed to public together. They just thought out a new way to increase profits, attention and loyalty of the citizenship.
That is what we do to the enemies and traitors. From now on I am a traitor.
It would be sort of attraction. To get someone encaged and position a good heap of stones for anyone who would like to take one and throw it into a poor soul in a cage.  If something sounds frightening that is the case. I wouldn’t be astonished if they did it but I am afraid of it.
I am fucking scared by that thought.
There were more unpleasant thoughts turning around in my head and torturing me as a sworn torturer.
Joy. She comes first into my mind. I have left her in the morning to come back in the evening. But I won’t. She will wait, but I won’t. Somehow I am afraid of and hope that she will see me there encaged. I hope cause she would see where I am and she won’t wait me anymore. I am afraid of it…cause it would shock her, it would really damage her. I don’t want that. What the hell made me to come so close to her…she wouldn’t have been damaged so much if I hadn’t been so careless.
Ull. He will be heavily disappointed. Stricken. I even don’t know whether the miners won or not. He will go into his office and have a glass of Chivas Regal his old friend once presented to him.
Hank. He considered me a soldier. Now he knows I am a traitor. No need to say how deeply I disappointed him. He entrusted me the best job but I laid him down. He and his family will all watch me hanged in front of their TV.
Paul. Maybe he is the one for whom I am worried at least. He is a good piece of cynic. He is a good man and I hope he won’t swear me long.
Wherever I go in my thoughts…again and again I return to Joy. It is hurting me so much to imagine how she is now waiting for me but then she will see me encaged. A laughingstock. A beast. Everyone will come and point their fingers at me. They will cry “Traitor, Traitor”. I don’t care what they think about me but I care that she will witness that. Every word addressed to me will be a stab to her.
Lost in that confident thought I have spent hours here. In the evening I was given a meal.
Every minute in that loneliness felt like an hour. Hundreds of hours in that cell. I remembered Vincent. He told me there the story of the star rover. He looked even a way more positive than me…but he spent weeks there and me? Just a day. How he managed?
I did a couple of sets of pushups. I did tens of rounds walking. I came back to my past evoking happy days from childhood. Then…I did a couple of sets of pushups…so on.
It started getting dark. I saw a start and remembered again about the star rover. I need a huge span of time to cultivate that skill to roam through time and space.
I should keep me toned. Mentally and physically. I should believe that Ulf and his team manage the plan. The shadow man might have revealed the plan and within the coming week my little brethren could be massacred.
Stepping back avoid basement and cellars. They leave you no options.
Facing the death through hanging I have come to the conclusion – it would be better to be shot somewhere in the basement. The stadium is a zoo. Tickets are sold out. They are devouring burgers and exalting. I am an animal, grown up in this zoo, raised for being a part of a show. In the end my dying nervous system is still sending signals to the muscles. That is what they have come for.
All the world is a stage, and all the men and women merely players.
I would make an amendment. The life is an execution. One is hanged. The other hangs. The rest is watching. The next comes from the rest. Over and over again.
I fell asleep.




ARTICLE

In the course of the law enforcement quarter session there have been considered a number of problems and their solutiond planned for the nearest future. Still there is no exactly settled dates for the approved laws to enter into force. According to announcements of the law enforcement speaker a more detailed information on dates is going to be provided within the next week.
So, which new draft legislations are going to enter into force?
During the last few months the parliament speakers have been incessantly touching up the problem of changing the status of the midgets. This issue split the parliament into two coalitions. The first lobbied for inevitable necessity of the change of the midgets’ status in the form of actual circumstances i.e. security of the nation is endangered as never before. A horrendous escalation of regular attacks requires from us radical actions otherwise state’s enemies wouldn’t miss an opportunity to deliver a martial hit. The other side, the blatant minority, reacted against the mentioned changing. In the result, 93% voted for the status changing. Thus, in the nearest future the status of the midgets will be officially and legally changed i.e. they will be proclaimed semi-humans or animals. It is said that it is still being worked on right formulation.
The following point concerned executions. Allegedly from the beginning of a new quarter every executioner will be obliged to carry out at least 12 executions monthly. Any executioner who will manage to execute more than 12 will be granted a remarkable extra charge. Thus the law enforcement is going to motivate the executing department to implement as more executions as possible.
This point served a basis for consideration of the following one.
In the nearest future any person who will somehow try to avoid to take over a state position or deny any asked help for the sake of the state will be executed without any consideration as a traitor or an enemy of the state. It means that if a person is asked to take over an executioner position and denies the request - he or she will be immediately electrocuted. The same will be valid if someone denies to place their car or apartment at a state representative’s disposition what will be considered as defeating the state law.
Those who on the ground of any reason cannot settle debts and credits provided by the state will be immediately sent to a labor camp. This measure has been taken for the sake of the state and nation. Thus, if a person cannot settle debts and credits he or she will be given a generous opportunity to cover their obligations by serving the state in any form offered by the state.
Besides, the parliament considered measures offered during the session in the last year and gradually implemented during the actual year.
One of the most considerable problems is prison terms. The issue has been carefully reconsidered. Thus, it has been decided to lengthen prison terms for a number of criminal activities, introduction of criminal liability for failure to report to law enforcement authorities that someone else "has been planning, is perpetrating, or has perpetrated" terrorist activity. It proved to be one of the blatant vulnerabilities of the security in the course of the last years. Through this measure the parliament is going to strengthen the state borders and fuel ideological basis of the population.
As it has been regularly stated the most crucial element of the state and nation is our security. It is not a secret that we have to suffer from numerous attacks. Our brothers and sisters die and their deaths must not be in vain. That is why it has been concluded that the state needs more financial inflow into the security. New inflows will be distributed for implementation of new projects supposed to increase the level of security. The state will install new data centers for storage of the content of voice calls, data, images and text messages to prevent any terroristic activity. According to that the state tax will be raised by 10%. Of course, every one of us has to tighten their belts but all that is done for the state’s and nation’s sake. To compensate that the state proclaims its readiness to provide cheaper TV and other entertainment services. That means that the TV package including all the entertaining channels, the midget circus, entertaining clubs and so one are going to become more available i.e. reduced by 10%.
In addition to that state’s and nation’s enemies as well as dissidents leading aggressive activities directed against the state and nation will be exposed on the central square where everyone will be given opportunities to throw anything in them - tomatoes, eggs, trash and so on. Unfortunately, now we cannot provide a precise list of things which will be provided for throwing into exposed criminals.
Unfortunately we cannot include into the article all the points discussed during the session. A special focus has been laid on such points as social policy and the labor code of the law enforcement needing  corrections in most unconsidered fields of activities. A special attention was paid to organizing new special task units  serving to strengthening surveillance over the city and the state.
However, as it has been already mentioned,  a more detailed information on dates is going to be provided within the next week.











INTERROGATION

‘The explosion of the underground working site that involved two hundred victims. According to the statements you ordered to carry out all necessary preparations and explode the site with all the personnel working there. You couldn’t but understand that the explosion would cause victims on the surface as well due to collapse of the buildings.’
‘Which statements?’
‘Investigation.’
A smug smile.
‘Are you really so na;ve or you are just pretending to be? I am serious.’
‘If you would be so kind to explain.’
‘Our agent fixed a highly suspicious activity there. It is like it sound officially. To clear out I tell you that it means a red situation. People who prepared a terroristic attack managed to  accumulate serious powers there. Around two hundred men with different types of weapons and explosives. The agent reports showed a sort of rapid development of events. Taking into consideration the actual situation I took the decision to explode the site. If it hadn’t been done the consequences could have been much more severe with a way greater number of victims. You say two hundreds. If they had broken out on the surface with all their armory.’ He shook his head.
‘Do you want to say that it was their own fault?’
‘If you wage a war you got two options – kill or die. If you understand that, you don’t ask these questions.’
‘Do you mean you don’t plead guilty to that explosion.’
He nodded.
‘I don’t plead guilty.’
‘Are you basing on the war time code you have already mentioned?’
‘That is right.’
‘Then, what decision should the court meet?’
‘For that matter there is a military court. If a soldier kills another soldier on the battlefield would you prosecute him for that murder?’
For a minute no one said anything. Typewriting only was heard.
‘You wouldn’t.’ General went on. ‘There is no doubt I will end up on the scaffold. You will hang me. If I see things right and I see them right I am not going to avoid death penalty. So, I am ready but there are accusations like that explosion which are the matter of the military court. I ordered to explode them. I ordered to kill them. The state security was at stake. I was there to defend my state, my nation. Out of these considerations.’
JACK

If you encage a human there is a beast behind the bars. The question is on which side of the bars. The essence of any humiliation is a hidden reflexing.

July, 16

It was a couple of years ago. This man was asleep in his cell. The warden came in and gave him two or three tough punches to wake him up. He was anxious and scared when opened his eyes and seemed completely confused. His eyes rushed from one to the other, to the walls, floor and so on. He spent in the cell about a month but that morning, six o’clock, he acted quite uncertain as if he woke up in the place he had never seen before.
I watched that scene and somehow sympathized with that man cause he didn’t make impression of a cold killer sentenced to death. It was a helpless child scared by two rough burglars who came to commit an act of violence over him.
In a couple of years a certain man who was a usual warden eyed the same scene. Two giants entered the cell. He was stopped at the door just looking. They came up to a sleeping body and delivered a couple of tough punches. This man looked as transported back to his childhood. So helpless.
Those Vikings grabbed him from the bench and he fell on his knees cause his legs stubbornly refused to cooperate. They raised him and dragged through the door.
This warden, a young man, not that husky as his older colleagues just stepped aside to let them pass him by with that poor body acting still uncertain.
An hour ago he was told to transport this man to the cage located on the central square. This man was a former state executioner. A sworn one. But he breached his swear, thus he was just a mean traitor.

They threw me into the cage positioned two meters over the ground on the pillars. My section was on the end of a long four section cage. The sections were divided from each other by metal grids so that we could see each other.
They made four. It looks like it is gonna be a common practice in the future. Today we two are exposed. In a month here are gonna be four. Or three. A new zoo.
Come and see! Come and see! Dead men exposed!
People around were gazing at us. There was a crowd of them. Over us there was a big screen showing them that we were going to spend here encaged five days from Monday to Friday and then executed on Friday at eight in the evening in the central stadium.
Surrealism pur.
Somehow I hesitated to stand up or even to sit. I was really appalled. So many people came here so early just to watch us like those animals in the zoo.
They made photos and videos. I heard loud laughing, shouting from windows and rooftops, jovial screaming. Camera flashes. I heard screams “hey, you” and something like that.
In other words I was knocked out by that crowd exaltation.
In a minute the crowd was forced aside by the prison truck. It came close to the cage. They dragged Alaric from there. He was fighting tooth and nail. Two wardens could hardly harness him. He was really strong. The third warden rushed to him and shocked him with a shocker. Alaric just cried with pain and limped for a moment. They used it and managed to force him into the cage.
Laying on the floor he raised his head and cried to the warden closest to him:
‘Next time I will break your neck!’
Alaric as he was. A true barbarian.
Then I caught his glance. He was deeply unsatisfied. He was burning with rage right like at my last visit.
‘Jack!’ He cried. ‘Glad to see you here!’
I waved to him and smiled.
Then Alaric cooled a bit and sat down with his back to the back grid.
‘I see you are a bit blown, fella,’ he was smiling.
‘I prefer quiet places. Too much noise make me sick.’
‘Face it, fella, face it. Otherwise you are going to suffer during this week as no one before. Let them gaze at you. Let’s wait a bit. Let them fuel your hatred.’
What is glory? It is a cage. It is a crowd. It is noise. Tell me how to get used to it. It takes time to put up with glory.
‘It is what we experience every evening,’ Alaric noticed my downfall.
Look at the medal other side and you see a true cost of the medal. One gets, one pays. One takes, one gives.
When you devour a burger next time think about people in the beginning of the supply chain with that burger in the end of it. They don’t eat burgers. It is their month salary.
Hours passed but the crowd showed no sign to dissolve. People came people went as if it was not a common workday but a kind of festival.
Alaric was staring the crowd and the guard. He knew that they concentrated their people here but in reality they would need them better in the underground and in the sewer. As for me, I just contemplated them all. Both the crowd and the guard. Just useless looking.
I saw a zoo. Was there a warning to not feed us?
Alaric stood up and came to the side grid. There was a teen videoing him. He came closer than the others. Alaric stepped closer to him and reached his hand.
‘Give me your hand, young man, ‘he said.
The teen stepped back out of concern.
Alaric continued.
‘Give me your hand, guy, and keep your hand reached forward.’
The guard pushed the teen back having said to him a couple of rough expressions. Alaric laughed out.
‘Give me your hand!’ He shouted. ‘I will break it!’
They fed us. Gave us water.
‘What would be better rain or heat?’
‘A good choice.’
‘Rain,’ I said. ‘Sure. Anyway, you aren’t getting thirsty. They don’t seem like being much worried about us. You get your water as it is defined for you. Not more. So, let it better rain than heat.’
‘Isn’t it cold?’
‘Not much colder.’
He shook his head.
‘And you?’
‘Heat!’
‘You always need that.’
‘I set fires as a child. We all equal in fire. Any human would provide much warmth in fire.’
‘Everyone needs rain, everything needs rain. It is simple. Seven days from now I will send rain on the earth for forty days and forty nights, and I will wipe from the face of the earth every living creature I have made.’
‘The bible, sure. We all need that all mighty rain.’
People came. People went. The guard were pressing them all back. The crowd were pressing them closer to the cage. The stampede of the elephants.  Their stomp was causing the earth to shudder beneath the cage. The pillars seemed to be vibrating but they managed to hold us somehow.
Elevated over the ground.
Elevated over the crowd.
Elevated over any scream and shout.
That We Are elevated
What makes them astound.
I was still searching. Hank, Paul but mainly her. It would come the day when she would let her glance walk through the clouds. It was a strange thing, this human being. We place us into the ground under our feet to search then us above there.
Alaric burnt the crowd by staring at them. Full of hate. Full of rage. Driven by revenge. He didn’t search. He just knew that they would come but not here.























ULF

De rebelli:
You don’t curse rats if they are leaving a ship. You follow them. They are too clever too ignore them.

July, 17

Many years ago we were afraid of this place, we avoided descending here cause of rats who drove us out from there. An alien darkness. They used to be aggressive taking us for intruders but we had no home. Humans drove us into the underground and sewers. Rats attacked us defending their home.
That day, I still remember clearly, Alaric caught a rat and broke its neck. There was another one who attacked him but he managed to react and squashed its head with his right foot. We heard massive squeaking. There were hundreds of them around us. Someone said they saw their reddish eyes in the darkness. They all saw Alaric relentlessly murdered two of them, but they did nothing.
Every day we descended there. Many of us. We came down there in groups. Alaric said if we wanted to coexist with them we should go down in groups cause those who used to act in groups accepted only groups.
They continued attacking our people every day but still those attacks were getting rare.
Once, we spent there about six hours pulling cables and working on manholes. We were eight. The rats were everywhere following us. In the end of the day we stated that not any rat attacked us. They didn’t even damage the cable. That was the first day they hadn’t attacked us.
Now, we are carrying wires and plastic explosives to the central stadium. The rats are everywhere but we don’t threaten each other anymore. They accepted us as indispensable part of the sewers.
‘They say there are giant rats in the farthest sectors.’
‘I have heard something but never seen with my own eyes.’
‘That man from the utilities said he saw a dead one but it was just a half, it was eaten. Belly, head, front paws. But the rest, he said, it looked like it was as huge as a dog and weighed about forty kilos.’
‘Fucking tales, he might have mistaken and surely he was drunk as usual.’
‘Yes, he was a bit but he said he had never gotten sober so fast when he saw that. A dog? Ulf, he said this dog had a tail, a long one.’
Honestly, I have already heard much about these giant rats. I really never saw them but they prove to be real.
‘Nutt told me once, it looked strange but he didn’t pay attention to that first but in a week he noticed the same again and became pretty suspicious on that.’
‘A rat?’
‘Not a giant rat, he told about common rats but he meant their behavior.’
‘What was wrong?’
‘Besides, it was within the fourth ring, I don’t remember precisely the district but it was surely the fourth ring. The point was that the rats which used to follow us whenever we went stepped back. They just didn’t go farther. The got frozen. Nutt went about forty meters more and the rats didn’t follow him. It just seemed strange but…you never know for sure…then it happened again.’
I said that to anyone but once I was really far away from the center. Just a usual task, something with pointing corners under the surveillance posts. It was somewhere on the border of the third and fourth rings. I heard heavy steps. It wasn’t a human. I just supposed I confused that with something else like a rat fell from the pipeline or something like that. But then I heard the step again. I stepped back and stared into the far.
I was never sure what I had seen there. I could confuse it with something else. But if I were said that there was a giant rat I wouldn’t deny.
‘Here they don’t come,’ said Gaise. ‘If they exist.’
‘Why? Are we close enough to the center?’
‘Yeah, it is too noisy here, too much vibrations. They are told to be quite sensitive.’
We reached the stadium west columns.
‘Our man will be at the western block,’ I said to the guys.
We followed farther searching for the door which led from the sewers to the cellar floors of the stadium. The carriages were really heavy. Plastic explosives. Around one hundred kilos each. And they were four. Gaise planned eight points which were support pillars. Fifty kilos for each point.
‘Every explosion will damage people in radius of thirty meters for sure taking into consideration the construction elements.’
He officer opened the door. We rolled our carriages into.
‘They look heavy,’ he said.
‘Of course, they say something serious is going to be prepared here,’ I said.
‘Yeah, they will execute here some serious men, a hundred thousand will come.’
‘That is right, they told me so. I have to prepare the corridors, utility rooms and so on. You know, important people will come.’
‘It is true,’ he said.
‘And you see,’ I said. ‘They pay me good money for that job. I would be pretty stupid to deny such an offer.’
He laughed out.
‘You aren’t as stupid, a little man. So, you know where to go?’
‘Sure, man,’ I said. ‘We come from time to time to clean here if get an order.’
‘Ok,’ he nodded. ‘Cause I am going to go eat a bit and if you don’t mind.’
‘Of course, no problem, man, we will find.’
He left and we went our direction. Gaise had handed out the plans of the stadium to the people. Four carriages drove four directions. We went to the west block. It was closest to the officers room and if he wanted to address someone of us it would be better for me to be the closest to him.
Through the inner corridors we managed to reach fan block with the pillars piercing them through. It was pretty spacious around them but Gaise was right as for construction element around them built up for holding the balcony and pulling the cables and other communications on the second floor.
Gaise came up to me and said:
‘Nutt is worried about those rats.’
I nodded.
‘I mean,’ he continued. ‘We will work here on the pillars three or four days. Could you check the situation with them? Nutt says there were droppings.’
‘Droppings?’
He nodded.
‘And they were, as it were, too big for common rats.’
‘Be then careful here. If the officer comes you must have something to say.’
He shook his head.
‘We clean utilities and check the cables for ruptures. I will find something to tell him. If we plan the exit strategy we would like to be sure we know a safe way is safe.’

I told the officer that I was going to leave cause we had still other objects and my people would work without me. Fortunately, he wasn’t a pedant and treated us completely careless. We were midgets and weren’t worth his attention.
Nut was surveilling the territory under the circus expecting the shadow man there. So I directed to there to ask him about those droppings he saw and that man from the utilities who allegedly saw a half of a giant rat. That man, he was a drunker. We didn’t need him at all but he was stupid enough what let us carry out our undermining activities being unnoticed.
About three years ago we contacted a man from utilities who used to know people using some “rat paths” to deliver explosives and weapons. I had no idea about his real name but he was known as the sleeper. It was about confidentiality. If you wanted to find him you’d better ask for the sleeper.  He had no enemies, no friends. If he got suspicious on something he disappeared.
He worked for the public utilities and that was why we were in God's pocket. He knew the sewers backward and forward. So we could deal with him without any problems around the whole territory of the sewers.
He had a colleague. That drunkard. He was smart enough to get this one who wouldn’t be too ambitious at his work. Let him drink as much as he wanted and he would never make out a hindrance.
Nutt was sitting over the pipeline. If I didn’t know the hide place I would never see him there. He was small and incredibly quiet. That was why he was our spy.
When he saw me he descended from there. We took a place from where we could control the ways from the both sides not to miss someone nearing us.
‘Gaise says you saw the droppings.’
‘I saw, they were too big for a common rat.’
‘I see you are all pretty worried.’
He shook his head.
‘The rats are afraid of them. They just don’t go there where they feel them. At first, I just though I confused but;’
‘I know the story. Gaise told me.’
‘They frighten me,’ he looked worried. ‘And the rest are afraid of being here. Even in groups. No one would go into the fourth ring. Something is going on there, Ulf. If the rats don’t go there, then we shouldn’t as well.
‘I see,’ I said. ‘Has anyone seen them?’
‘No, only that man from the utilities.’
‘The half?’
He nodded.
‘No one can say anything about their origin and where they came from. ‘
‘If only rats could speak.’
‘The rats are pretty frightened, I watch their behavior, I know it and that tells me they are frightened.’
‘What can we do?’
He shrugged his shoulders.
‘No clue but you see…something tells me sooner or later someone won’t come back home.’
‘We need to figure out something but now we muster all strengths to hit the stadium. Then the other points, if it comes to.’
‘How is it going on?’
‘The guys are already working on it, it looks like we meet the deadline but you can’t be sure how it ends.’
‘Hope we manage.’
‘This Jack, I am afraid they will hunt him down or have already. Today is Monday, he didn’t come yesterday as he wanted, he hasn’t come today. Looks bad. And this man?’
‘He wasn’t here. Looks like they are scouring the underground but if they don’t find anything there they will come here. It would be better for us if I stay here and you go up.’
‘Right you are.’
I went to the hole and ascended upwards to the circus.
The Sleeper offered us to organize a kind of storage for weaponry and explosives. He showed us where we would better make a storage. Not too far from the surface and close enough to the sewers. All the interconnection made for the midgets. Weapons and explosives we bought right in the sewer and delivered them directly through the hole to the storage partially unavailable for an adult human. Besides, from time to time you could meet a couple of rats therein, so it looked safe.
As soon as I have stepped up the floors I was informed that a certain girl asked for me. She waited at the entrance. Jack warned me about her. I came from the dark side so that she couldn’t see me. I wanted to have a look at her but I wasn’t going to keep her waiting too long. It wouldn’t be polite. 
Finally I stepped out of the dark.
‘Ulf?’ she asked.
I nodded.
‘You already know?’
‘What?’
‘Jack said I can trust you.’
‘Yes, but please don’t be too careless coming here. I mean we are watched.’
‘He warned me. You already know?’
‘What?’
Her eyes got wet and red. She wanted to say but she couldn’t. She lingered as people usually linger if don’t want to break out in tears.
‘He is arrested,’ so she started crying.
I wasn’t shocked. We expected something like that. The shadow man was here and he had something to report and they…they didn’t hesitate too long. They used to act fast.
‘And,’ she continued. ‘They are in the cage.’
‘What cage? They?’
She was sniffling and I couldn’t really get what the cage she meant.
‘On the square. They both.’
Then she told me that Jack and Alaric were encaged and exposed to people on the central square about ten hours ago. We were in the sewers and were unavailable for the world.  They were exceptionally strictly guarded and there were thousands of people coming endlessly to watch them. She knew from the TV. 
My brother. They exposed him in a fucking cage.
Hesitations became resolve. An absolute commitment. The rage was boiling at me but it would be a wrong moment to let it away. Too many tears were running down along her cheeks. I just said:
‘We will pay a visit. Not today,  not tomorrow, but we will pay it.’


















MACABER

In a camp:
In hell you meet the best friend.

How to start a revolution?
In block letters I wrote a message. I came back to the day I was firstly given a theme to write an article on. I was about to burst out with nervousness. I wrote a word and deleted it. I wrote another and deleted it. I wanted to be perfect. It didn’t work out that way. Sitting there at a new table I was elaborating the concept of my writing – how should my article sound like? My article was supposed to have a part of me, a sign of my unique style, a word of my philosophy. I was an ambitious young man.
Unfortunately, I heard that guy had died years ago. He had got frozen to death. Someone had crushed his skull with a boulder.
I was sitting on the bunk in the trailer. What should a leaflet say?
Touch a heart.
I didn’t want to write a political stuff like - The factories to the workers, land to the peasants, peace to the soldiers. It would be saying “I am right and you are wrong”. No mottos. No programs. No promises. Out of the blue Molch’s face appeared in my mind.
‘You need an enemy’.
If I wanted people to hear me I should appeal to their hearts. We had an instinct to care about the nearest and dearest. Then I would show them an enemy to blame. However, first of all I would tell them a touching story. That was how I started writing leaflets. In three-four sentences I told another story about children, handicapped and destroyed families. Child’s tears would move anyone to hate that one who made a child cry.
It worked out.
In a couple of months the guys from our brigade joined us. They organized a decent cache of rifles. Besides, we acted like a buffer center. An indispensable link in an armistice supply chain. Moreover, every day I listened to another story. Partially everyone here was either from a camp or sentenced to a forced labor what was just an official statement. De facto a member of his family got in debt and he was supposed to pay back while his relative slaved in a camp. I gathered stories and wrote them. We had to work more and sleep less to keep to the norms but we obtained the sense.
We were not just slaves anymore.
Soon we managed to win a man from the propaganda. Apart from stories I started giving statistical data regarding any sphere where the propaganda had its fingers. The data were reliable and utterly provoking but we dozed them carefully not to throw suspicions onto our informant.
Hidden in the offshoot I was writing another letter when Dock informed that there was a certain man inquiring about me.
‘The man is like crazy. They didn’t want to take him but he got in rage and demanded you.’
‘Me?’ I wondered.
‘He said he needs Macaber. There is only one man with such a strange name.’
At first I couldn’t figure out who this man could be and then it struck me as hard as a jackhammer fallen right on the head. Fuck! It would deadly hurt.
I jumped up and streamlined to the check point. So-called check point. A huge trailer combined of several smaller ones positioned at the entry of the area. Newcomers came there first.
I ran as fast as I could. I wasn’t a good runner but I did my best. I forgot about leaflets, confidentiality, revolution and about everything. I was running with my wetting eyes directed right to the check point trailer. In five minutes the trailer appeared in the far distance. I was breathing pretty heavily cause I hadn’t ran for…for many years.
I literally broke into the trailer like a bloodthirsty SS-officer into a stable with a Jewish family hidden there. I looked around. Too many people. I just shouted:
‘The dog!’
People looked at me as if I have gone mad.
‘Macaber!’ I missed that voice as nothing else in this world.
I couldn’t help crying. I really couldn’t. My hands trembled. I couldn’t say a thing cause my vocal cords got gripped with tense excitement. I embraced him.
‘You did it, you did it.’ I managed to squeeze out. The words didn’t want to release but it was a pure power of will.
I didn’t dare to hope that he would survive. I was afraid of thinking about it because I was afraid of horrendous disappointment if he couldn’t. I tried to keep these thoughts as far as possible away from me. I was torn about “yes” and ”no”. I was tormenting myself thinking about him being afraid of disappointment.
He tapped me on my back and whispered:
‘I am here.’
I was so shocked that I didn’t notice that he got his left hand amputated.
‘Fortunately, I lost it just three months ago. It has been really tough with the only arm but the guys helped me as you helped me once. Besides, several weeks I helped at the kitchen.’
‘You are at home,’ I said. ‘You are welcome here even if you had no arms and legs at all.’ I smiled.
‘He begins today,’ I said to the officer and we left.
For an hour or even more he told me how he struggled through the last months. He was about to be executed when a guy from our brigade attempted to escape. They chose every second and hanged them upside down. He spoke, spoke and spoke. Incessantly. He couldn’t stop. He couldn’t believe that in the morning he was in the camp and at the moment he was sitting with me in our trailer.
I was monumentally shocked. No need to say that we didn’t sleep. We got up to the surface, bought a bottle of whiskey, not the cheapest one as usual, and emptied it. Completely, absolutely and hopelessly drunk we fell asleep in the offshoot where Dock found us. He shook his head. Did a deep breath and rolled us aside to free the walk.
This day I proclaimed to be my happiest day ever.
The dog was one handed what made him completely useless. He couldn’t work with a jackhammer, nor with sledgehammer and…with nothing at all. That was why he got refusal in the check point trailer. You can be both a Satanist of the bloody devil cult sacrificing pregnant women and a pedophile raping children in the age of three-four years and you were going to be welcomed here cause you still got two arms and two legs. Even the head was not that necessary.
It was a moment of frustration. He didn’t suit into the slavery. We were sitting in the trailer fully immersed into the brainstorming. We had considered all the activities but he didn’t suit into. We tried even to create new ones but he didn’t want to suit into them as well. Everything needed two arms. He was frustrated more than anyone. He didn’t want to convert into a general burden being ready for the dirtiest and heaviest works to be useful. The most willing slave.
He was getting nervous while we were searching for ways to fund use for him. Walking to and fro he finally took a screw driver and repaired a socket. Dock laughed, patted him on the back and asked whether he could do the same with light fixtures around the whole area. The dog noticed that it was too dusty there and cleaning out contacts could be a solution.
We exchange looks and I asked him:
‘Aren’t you an electrician?’
He smiled and everyone got what it meant. We couldn’t find a job for a guy we truly had needed the most.
The moments of positive bursts outweighed all the hardships forming out black, airless and tremendously dusty everyday. The dog brought a new lease.
Besides, to mine something you got to handle wiring work. For that you would need an electrician. One-handed one would suit to the job.
My leaflets were partially everyone. In the underground, in shabby ghettos, in suburbs. I gave broad outlines of the social classes formed in the state. From elite to slaves downwards. Thus, I defined a target audience – slaves, ragtag and other lowlifes populating the forth and the third rings. Everyone who was about to get into slavery, everyone who had already became a slave. The neglected downside. At the same time we stretched hands into propaganda, social services, communications and so on. There were still many gaps to fill but I couldn’t but avoid thinking about the law enforcement. We needed to infiltrate behind those greyish walls. We had already gathered a basic infiltrating experience but the law enforcement clearly didn’t belong to the same league. Any mistake there could turn into severe consequences. I shared my considerations with the sleeper.
‘I have my man in the prison. A warden. It is not quite what you mean but he could be a good help.’
In two months the warden gave a lead.
‘The thing is’ Sleeper said. ‘The enforcement is a way tight knot. They are mostly maniacs there. Every next leaflet can be the last. Sometimes it is about a paranoid surveillance for very servant if there is any signal received. The warden is the only backdoor we can use. He is a central part of our prison project, but for that we still need quite much time and patience. As for targets he can watch exceptionally executioners coming there.’
‘Even the smallest chance is a win for us.’
‘He gave me a person.’
‘Who? I mean a profile. Some traits making him a good target?’
‘Executioners used to be a stronghold of the regime. They are said, at least. I would say they are real maniacs but still they are people, not machines. Thus, destiny gives us a chance. The warden said he used to see real maniacs among executioners, mad gone slaughterers, but usually they make an impression of just indifferent men, not that emotional about hanging, electrocuting or skinning. So, he had never seen an executioner leading kind of friendly conversations with them. However, there is one.’
‘That is what we need. Compassion. A guy must be questioning himself. An address?’
He gave me a piece of paper with address on it.
‘Name? it could be helpful to address him by name.’
‘He used to introduce himself as Jack.’
We took him under control. Jack woke up, ate, walked around, visited the prison, drank whiskey, made bets. Whatever he did our eyes kept him in sight. The warden was right this man didn’t make an impression of a cold blooded killer.
I know what was speaking with dead people. Their body was still alive. They moved, talked and breathed but they were dead. This kind of death was like mold. You were getting infected when talking to them. Their words were mold spores. Their thoughts were cancer causing radiation. You couldn’t but inhaling it. As a result, I would suppose, that Jack got immune issues. It would a right moment to inject a doubt in him. It would work out especially taking into consideration that he was already injected.
We knew the pub he used to visit. He did it averagely twice a week. He made bets there and talked to the owner, an old men. One more detail – Jack bet on the miners. Always on the miners. It was a good sign.
Thus, once I stopped by the pub to have a beer and talk to Jack. A small talk. Not to be memorable.
I didn’t know what to ask and how to speak to him. I was waiting for an occasion and as you know any waiting has its end. He bet on the miners. Again.
‘Don’t you think an odd is poor?’ I asked.
 ‘Yeah, fella,’ he said. ‘Obviously but if I win it is going to be a solid amount.’
‘It is true. As for me, a beer is a sure thing to bet on,’ I laughed and raise the mug.
He smiled.
‘Sure,’ he replied. ‘But, you see, it is better to lose this money.’
It was the talk.
Sitting in the offshoot with my eyes fixed on a blank piece of paper in front of me. What to write?
I wonder whether he knew how many days there were between arrests and executions. I would bet he didn’t.
It is coming, it is coming from the below.






















JACK

Tyranny. A physical force they used was the groundwork for the power they had. They developed the monopoly on a physical force, crimes and violations of any rules they had introduced themselves.

July, 18

His gaze against the sweeping of the bars
has grown so weary, it can hold no more.
To him, there seem to be a thousand bars
and back behind those thousand bars no world.
(The panther)

It was raining.
The first drops on Alaric’s palms.
‘Jack,’ he showed the palm with rain drops on it.
Leaned at the back grid he directed his disengaged eyes into nowhere. Through the crowd, which seemed to have reduced a bit, and the buildings surrounding us from all directions as those guards positioned in front of the cage.
The rain increased. The crowd started dissolving somehow. People were disappearing in the buildings and far going streets. Some came but not for a long. The rain wiped them all from the square. The rain didn’t let them step up the square. Not the guards were they who kept the crowd far away but the rain. Just a water fallen down on the ground was enough to clean the square.
There were people in the windows looking down on us. It was a kind of another show to watch us getting soaked.
‘You were right,’ Alaric said. ‘Rain wipes them all.’
‘It is just words, here we need a flood and then we would die first cause we are encaged.’
‘Can we consider the day when we die first as the beginning of the flood?’
‘The flood will come on Friday no matter what;’ Alaric hasn’t completed his words.
I wanted to reply but there was a person with umbrella standing at the building just opposite to me. The crowd made this person unseen for me but the crowd was away and I saw her. A stoned glance. Two stoned glances. No words possible.
I already mentioned that never could understand the language of eyes. So, this time I couldn’t as well.
It isn’t up to a certain language. It is all about meaning. Any silent glance can really have just limited number of meanings. Hope, love, hate, despair, faith. According to a given interpretation can differ and be conceivable but…
Really? Just the fact that she came here in the rain could mean all of those feelings.
So, all a stoned glance can mean is just the absence of indifference.
I looked at her expecting any sign which could distinguish her relation to me somehow. Gazing only could just evoke a whirl of contradictory feelings and emotions in me leaving me nowhere without any idea what she felt towards me.
Might she hate me cause I destroyed her hopes and expectations?
Might she…?
Then she smiled and I got all I needed and wanted to get. I smiled back.
‘That is her?’
‘Her,’ I whispered.
We were looking at each other for about ten minutes.
It was a moment of great hope and absolute hopelessness. Why should I be executed just in the moment of my life when I stopped being indifferent? A blatant injustice.
A van drove out of the corner and stopped in a couple of meters from her. She closed the umbrella and got in. The van drove away. It would evoke thousands of doubts in me if it weren’t written “The Midget Circus” on the van.
‘Don’t worry, the van is likely full of tomatoes. Everyone knows that this van is supposed to be full of tomatoes for the midgets cause everyone knows why these tomatoes are there for. And she…kind of help or something like that. If you ask, Jack, there are guys who can elaborate a good story why she is there. Don’t worry.’
If she was a sign to me then the van was a much greater sign for Alaric.
As Ulf said about the rats walking fearlessly among the people on the streets. If they show no fear it means only one thing. They are many enough and they are ready to attack any time.
The van gave him assuredness, confidence he needed being there.
There was something absolutely everyone missed. While all the guards turned their faces to the van driving them by, there appeared a midget from Alaric’s side. Alaric knew that and when everyone was tracking the van he directed his glance into the opposite direction where he expected to see a certain man. It was Ulf who was there – opened and unseen.
Ulf made no sign, no wave, no move. He was self a sign that something was going on.
The rain was hitting heavy against the ground. Noisy. So noisy that the engine rattles could be barely heard by everyone on the square. In the middle of this heavy noisy rain there was a midget threatening and endangering no one but he was a pure embodiment of the revenge still sleeping underground but there were tiny sign of awakening.
A grey clothed midget with grey building walls on the background. 
Would you see the signs? Alaric saw, the others – not.
Next day I had a special guest. Paul.
He came as close as he could. He used to be smiling and this time wasn’t an exception. I liked it because I really need no tragic faces. He came from my side and waved to me.
I waved back.
‘Jack, you are the highlight,’ he looked sad.
He showed the guard his entry card and said something about his access level and they let him come behind the guard.
‘You the highlight,’ he repeated.
I smiled.
‘I missed you, fella!’ I said.
‘I can’t believe it. I haven’t eaten from the moment I got informed about you. They all speak about you. They told me the people shouldn’t know about a traitor but then, they changed the opinion. It is an ideological tool.  They interpret you like, just listen to it, an enemy face hidden under the masque. It is supposed to mean that the enemy is smart enough to put on a masque.‘
‘What the fuck?’ Alaric
I smiled.
‘It is ok.’
Then I addressed Paul.
‘I am a star, Paul.’
‘You remember? It is all money, power and glory. Of course you don’t get power and money, but what  do those researches show? People need glory much more than money and power. And do you know why? Because we are all a part of society and our main need is to be appreciated as high as possible. We don’t really need power and money cause if we have glory people think we have money and power. And the most important, Jack, they will make you a martyr.’
‘You are fucking idiot, fella!’ I smiled
‘It is what makes me the exceptional, they say so. But I am…’ he got even sadder. ‘I am sorry. I will miss more than anyone.’
‘I know. You are the best friend I have ever had.’
‘They don’t let me embrace you.’
I shook my head.
‘I know, fella.’
I have never seen him like that. He looked completely done. A paled complexion, sad glimpse, those notorious circles under eyes which were getting really wet. That wasn’t a Paul I used to know.
Times are changing. Getting harsh. Sparing no one.
An idiot. You never knew what ever happened in his head.
‘I have to go. I just…I am not permitted to be here any longer.’
I nodded smiling.
‘Thank you, Paul.’ I said.
He couldn’t say a word. I saw it. It was a way hard to him. He shook his head intensely.
Before he turned his back to me he said:
‘Your case made me leave the channel. I don’t want that violence anymore. You happened to be a bullet in my head. I am done from now on. It is all fucking Pandora’s box.’
He went away. A strange idiot.
Another day of this fucking world.
I had never slept in open air before. Sometimes it was cold enough for me to sleep. So, I kept laying with my eyes directed into the sky. The moments for time travelling.
I used to come back into my childhood in the village where my grandparents lived. There were my parents, still young, still alive. Somehow, the childhood is a place we used to come back more often.
We like the place. It is always sunny and warm, you meet there only those you want to see. No problems, no enemies, no suspicions and sure…there are no executions. The place in the sea of flowers, rabbits, ducks, trees and warm rains. Then the sky goes clearer.
The time when birds sing, when those you loved are still alive, when you are not aware of what is expecting in the future. Where the river flows…
Then it all disappears in the past and leaves you alone when you don’t want to be left alone.
It hurt, it hurt much. I would rather fall asleep eternally with those pictures in my eyes.
My last will would be to never leave the place. A Peter Pan. That was what I wanted to be.
I happened to wake up several times in the nights. Once I caught Alaric being awake.
He had his past as well. But he never lived in a certain village. He was born in the sewers. He was born a slave.  Invalid recollections. If something good happened to him in this life he was rewinding that again and again. Let him be happy for such rare moments. I hoped, he had them.
Once I caught Alaric’s glance at me. He didn’t stare. It happened accidentally. Even in the middle of the night he was strained acting like a predator watching his prey out. He was just watching without moving. Waiting for the moment when the prey would stop being so careful and attentive and then attack it.
The crowd in front of us. I prefered to call those people a crowd.
They were nothingness, emptiness, a senseless mass. I couldn’t abstract and ignore them. I was despise.
An individual is an essential part of a crowd. A crowd is a human projection. A big endless human. There is a crowd in any human. I took a little from Alaric, Iacubus and Vincent.
It was getting dark. The last night.
‘The last night we are going to experience.’
The sky wasn’t full of stars. There were many but I experienced skies which were better than this but the night itself was the most important. Just because it was the last one.
‘It is the beginning,’ Alaric said.
‘The beginning of what?’
‘You are going to experience much more.’
‘You mean afterlife?’ I asked.
‘I don’t believe in afterlife.’
Then all went silent for a couple of minutes.
‘And still,’ I asked myself aloud. ‘What should I think about now looking forward to my last dawn, morning and day?’
No answer.
I stood up and came to the front grid.
‘Hey, guards,’ I called them. ‘What would you think now if tomorrow you were executed?’
They said nothing.
‘So what?’
I let me a minute to put together. She had been standing there with umbrella in her right hand. He came here in that rain just to look at me. She smiled. It meant so much. No words would be enough to express it. It was the experience I had never had before.
Besides, it meant I wasn’t a hopeless bastard.
‘And the outlook is pretty romantic,’ I said looking upwards at the stars emerging from the darkness.
‘It is not the end.’
Alaric denied the idea of living with it.
The rest of the night we were just watching the sky.  Deepened in thoughts.
So, you, what would you think about on your last night?
There are things we would better forget but they are…they have something inside that will never leave us alone and moreover we don’t let them go. I was so fucking disappointed by that blatant injustice. One man said there are parallel worlds. It depends on our decisions in which of those worlds we  come to. I would meet her in a different world but I was that damned and unhappy to meet her here. Wasn’t that a blatant injustice, as a matter of fact? I had a cemetery behind my back. Hadn’t I deserved it somehow?
We all get a check to settle.
























SHADOW

Your enemy is never really weak. No matter how it looks. Adolf Anderssen is the best example.

July, 18

‘Have you read the last quarter session report?’
He has but he read the report without required enthusiasm. He never find anything for him there. They touched upon numerous points there but his field of responsibility used to stay out of published reports. His position excluded any sign of ideological negligence.
‘I have.‘
He was the most faithful servant of the regime. The only thing that worried him and even made him doubt on his authorities was their unwillingness to give credence to his reasons.
‘Stop-gap measures, don’t you think?’ said the chief.
He didn’t understand what the chief meant but he agreed.
‘No dates settled, no mass arrests, besides we still don’t have absolute power over their rights. How should we guarantee any protection if we don’t get what we need.’
The nearer you come to power the sillier you are getting. If you cannot solve the problem by conventional dealing with that you just need absolute power to forbid, to arrest, to suppress and to execute. Absolute power is like water, the more you drink, the more is your thirst.
‘I still hold to the opinion that the money lead to instability. Food packets, cards, coupons would bring it to order. If they cannot get what they want and what can somehow endanger stability we wouldn’t need so much resources to provide a control. You see, we are dealing with consequences when we need to solve the cause.’
After ending the idea the chief made a Mussolini’s face as if no one but only him saw the kernel of all evil. A wise dictator we need.
He was listening to the chief incessantly speaking about politics, strategical solutions, social problem, anti-terroristic measures and so on. He used to let his words just pass by without paying too much attention to them. it was a ritual after every session and meeting. The chief needed that speech to give a way out to the negative he piled. Then, having made conclusions and found solutions he said:
‘What do you have?’
He never called the shadow man on his name. The unpronounced protocol.
‘After the arrest I visited the circus once again.’
‘Why?’
‘Suspected activity. The hole I told you about.’
‘Oh, yeah, I forgot, these sessions, you see, I am stressed.’
That is why he found himself losing loyalty to the authorities. He is still motivated to serve for the regime and state but his work is getting neglected more and more. There has always been something more crucial than his job but he is doing his best to dig further into dark underground network expanding like a spider’s web under state’s feet. Sooner or later, the fly will get trapped.
‘I went down into the underground. I spent two days there but found nothing.’
‘No trace?
‘No, but;’
‘You mean they don’t have a storage underground?’
He hated being cut in short especially when was going to tell something really crucial.
‘No! I mean that I decided to look into the sewer.’
‘And?’
‘Do you know that at the sewer walks interceptions there are certain marks on the walls?’
‘Listen, I have never been there. And I don’t regret that I have never been there.’
They want to rule this state but never leave their conditioned offices. If someone would start an uprising their surely wouldn’t do in an business center with comfortable offices and rest zones. He is getting angry about it but what really used to bring him in rage is that they are highly proud of the fact that they have never left their offices and have no real picture of what is going on in the suburbs and underground.
We don’t care and we are proud of it.
‘I made inquiries what that could mean. The sewers men explained to me what those marks mean. They are just pointers of districts and subdistricts. I just thought that if I organized an uprising I would act there. It is easier. It is like you freely move through the center of the city but no one sees you.’
‘But the center is protected on all the levels.’
‘Yes, it is but only the center. Starting from the second district the underground is protected but not the sewers.‘
‘And?’ the chief looked like alarm bells really started ringing.
‘We fully protect only the center, but strategical points we have in the second district and in the third ring. It means;’
‘We have to request for more money to protect our points.’
The chief going to split the atom but sometimes he looked really stupid. Once, the shadow man admitted to himself that it was demotivating.
‘I mean, if we expect something we should expect it in the sewers.’
‘I see, I see, but…meanwhile it is all…just…a sort of guess, I mean you are supposing.’
‘Under the circus there are technical rooms where workers keep their equipment but there are some holes in the walls. These holes looks like that in the circus.’
‘You checked the hole?’
‘I didn’t go into.’
‘Why?’
Because I am not searching for ways to commit suicide! He got so angry that has barely said that. He takes a pause for several seconds to calm down.
‘I am alone there and I am not a steel cast machine. You see, I am not that guaranteed to get out of the hole alive. Besides, they are so fucking small. I am just too big for them.’
‘These midgets,’ suspicious. ‘Why do they make these holes? I mean, they are just fucking dwarves, they cannot prepare revolution. They are…too little for that.’
‘Between us, the report says we feel endangered by them.’
The chief shook his head.
‘Yeah, but…we both know that it is just words. We don’t need them…maybe just for tomato party and so on. Still! Why do they make the holes?’
‘Don’t you think we shouldn’t;’
He wanted to say “underrate them” but the chief suddenly revealed the origin of the holes.
‘Rats! The article. There was an article about giant rats. They might be making these holes. It is logical, isn’t it?’
Rats? Those little guys have dig the whole ground under their feet preparing something and what is the reaction? The giant rats!
‘Please!’ the shadow man is getting angry. ‘Rats? It is a human job.’
‘But the midgets aren’t humans anymore, but,’ he paused. ‘They are still humans, you are right. In a couple of weeks they aren’t humans anymore. So,’ he acted like a father teaching his boy a lesson. ‘Be careful, you will sound anti-governmental calling them humans when they aren’t humans anymore.’   
The shadow man is doing his best searching for a way out from his desperate rage.
‘I mean, we shouldn’t underrate them. They are making fucking holes. It looks like they know the sewers better than anyone in the city. I am sure, the sewers is already their home and they are planning something. I investigated rims of the holes and area around it. They use the holes every day.  I followed traces and do you know what? The traces are going into central direction. To be more precise, it must be a coincidence, but they lead in all the directions where the points are located.’
‘I know they do some cleaning around the city and get paid for that.’
‘They do but it is a so good reason to explain why they spend there so much time.’
‘Disguise?’
The shadow man nodded.
‘We underrate them. Alaric is executed this Friday.’
‘In the central stadium.’
‘Right. I couldn’t follow them farther but something tells me they both were heading into the stadium. The direction is that.’
‘They are making a show there on Friday. They must be preparing.’
‘Are you serious?! A show?! Preparing?!’
He frowned. The shadow man continued.
‘Alaric is taken. This executioner dealt with them somehow and now he is waiting for his execution on Friday. They are spending days down there and moreover soon they are going to be degraded to animals with no rights! Don’t you think they want something to say?’
‘You are crossing the line!’
‘No, I am not. I tell you they are preparing a show but not that joyful dancing.’
‘Your job is surveilling and reporting! Not more! Your guesses you keep to yourself! You should worry about something else. We got them under control. They do shows and clean rooms. You better worry about those unemployed. They all get guns somewhere. Take it.’
‘Sure, I better worry about something else,’ he stood up and headed to the door. ‘I just think we have to take them seriously. But there is a thing I worry about.’
The chief looked at him in expectance of the ending.
‘There is something down there these midgets are really afraid of. There is something but I don’t understand what makes them stop breathing and exchange frightened glances.’
He left.
Vincent spent hours underground. He could disappear there and suddenly appear from nowhere. It was reported that the underground was regularly checked. The investigation brought zero results. The shadow man was sure that the midgets connected the sewers with the underground with holes. Vincent had to literally tighten the belts to get through the holes. However, there was no trace of dirt on his cloths.
Isn’t that the best way to sell, buy and transport guns there where no one implement any control? It looks obvious but to get proofs would take up much time, energy, patience, resources and people. The shadow man has been elaborating a plan to get the scheme solved but whatever he supposed got damned to wreck against the same problems mentioned above.
He doesn’t blame anyone for financial scarcity but for their unwillingness to admit the facts. He is devotedly dedicating himself into revealing viruses endangering the health of the state but all that seems to be in vain.
Somehow, he feels a certain admiration toward the midgets. They are forced into the sewers and deprived of many things a human needs in everyday life, exiled, neglected, hated and maltreated. What is their reaction?
They have been possibly building a certain criminal network with the only aim to damage the state. He must hate them for that but he admires their discipline, patience and determination. They act clever. They accept their social role of slaves managing to lull the state into a false sense of security. They have taken over the role of a game.
There are many scenarios. Ones are better, ones are worse. What is the worst?
The worst is when a hunter suddenly grasps that he has become a game. He controlled the game all the way. He watched it. He followed it. Tracked. Drove it into a right direction but somehow he feels a cold breath on his neck.
He could foresee it if he hadn’t been lulled into an illusion of being a hunter. A slave of his slaves.
The shadow man goes down into the sewers once again to reach the stadium through the sewers. There is no doubt that the midgets might be preparing for something. They have been hurt too much. They are forced to respond. Appropriately.



















MACABER

In a camp:
From start to finish which is in essence a start.

‘The prison is the best defended location in the state. An impregnable fortress guarded by two independent defending circles. About two hundred armed guards. Everyone is trained and prepared combat unit. If you want to get them by a head on collision you are dead. Four meters thick walls make a good base for them to get you done. If you ram the wall by car no one would notice that someone tried something. There is one more thing to mention, if someone attack the prison damaging the first defense circle or even would look like capable of it they would signal reinforcement.’
‘A special external group?’ I asked.
‘Not quite. It is a fucking army.’ Sleeper used to be talking calm and quiet.
He looked like nothing could ever impress or shock him.
‘Thus, is it reasonable to attack the prison?’
‘No. Firstly, it is a waste of people. Two circle of two hundred armed soldiers with impregnable walls would give no chance to an army of thousand warriors unless they have an aircraft and heavy battle equipment that we don’t have. Secondly, even if we gather a two thousand army to attack them they would call the reinforcement with heavy battle equipment. We are dead. Thirdly, we don’t have so much arm resources necessary for such an attack taking into account the reinforcement. And finally, any head on collision is deadly for us. That is why we are going to meet someone who is going to facilitate the task.’
‘Who?’
‘Be patient and no names. He never says it as well as I do not.’
He turned into another offshoot, one of millions in the underground. There was a kind of hatch in the upper part of the wall. He opened it.
‘Here we have to jump. Look.’
He switched the lighter on and directed it in the hole. There was a stairway.
‘Jump and grip it. Then you pull up.’
‘Sure, where is leading to?’
‘The sewers. The underground is everyone but the only place.’
‘The prison?’
He nodded and jumped into the whole. He was quite agile and in a moment he managed to disappear in there. I followed. I happened to have strong arms and was quite light body. We worked much and eat less.
After a minute of hard manual work we reached the sewers. I got out of the hole and sleeper closed the hatch.

‘The prison is your mission.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘This year, I can’t be more accurate, it is going to happen. As you know, there is a number of squads. Everyone will participate. The plan entails simultaneous attacts on the most strategic targets. If we attack them one by one we fail.’
‘Red situation.’
‘Right you are. That is why we plan several scattered hits at once. It is the only way. The enforcement, their central district points and so on. The enforcement is the priority point. Weaponry stocks. No chance to take it but we can destroy it. The prison is your assignment. The main thing is to get prisoners free and stay alove. As much as possible not to turn the prison into our cemetery. It takes minutes for them to switch red. They won’t be able to reinforce everything but nevertheless we don’t have enough resources to keep fighting against their prison squad even for a day.’
While he was talking about the plan and our crucial role in it I came back to the camp for a moment. For just a minute. Frost. Snows. Rails. Cannibals. Black frozen arms. Demonstrative executions. Dogs. Heaps of corps. Outcries in the nights. 1848 days and nights. Dreams of warm unconscious death. Life became hell. I really needn’t any motivation to go the extra mile. I was ready to die and all I wanted to deliver the maximum damage before doing the last inhale. Moreover, I wasn’t alone in my intention. There was an army of men covered with thick layer of black dust. White eyeballs scattered in the darkness. They were deadly tired to think and doubt. They weren’t afraid of death and pain.
There is a kind of fable there. You ask the miner whether he is afraid of death. He says no. You wonder and ask “why?” Then you see his black smile. Greyish enamel worn my permanent dust grinding. Then he says:
‘Don’t you fucking know that you can die only once?’
Like a blatant stupid chunk you nod and sort of baffled say:
‘Yeah, I know.’
‘I have died already once. So, I cant die again.’ He breaks out into laughing and empties a glass of the cheapest booze.
They were all dead there but somehow they craved for a kind of death that would finally free them from hell like those pirates cursed to eternal roaming through the ocean.
‘So,’  sleeper ripped me out from thinking. ‘Do you believe you manage?’
‘Do we have a choice?’
There can be no doubt, no if, no would. We just do it. If we are destined to die there we die. Anyway, we all get freed. In one way or another.
‘You sound kind of desperate.’
‘So I am.’
Meanwhile we were nearing the place. It became dark. No lights. Rats squeaking. I didn’t see them running. I didn’t see their black eyes following me but i heard them. They were everywhere. Under my feet. Over my head. Some of them fell down into the water. I was going in full expectancy of a rat attack. I was preparing myself mentally. It would be painful. It would hurt but not that physically. A pitch dark. Squeaking. Squeaking. Squeaking. I didn’t dare to turn my head into the directing of another squeak. I didn’t dare neither react not hear them. So powerful and overwhelming they were. Their spirit was pressing on me. I was shivering inside but still not giving in. I walked. I walked. I walked through that devilish squeaking.
Finally we reached the door. There was a sturdy man in front of it with a torch in his hand.
‘Sleeper’ sleeper said.
The man lowered the torch so that we could see him as well.
‘Who is that’
‘Heard about letters?’
The warden shook his head appreciating and reached his hand out to me.
‘Glad to meet you. No names, just warden.’
I shook his hand
‘Macaber.’
‘It is ok. A special case,’ sleeper cleared having caught the warden’s abrupt glance.
‘Sorry but we have to wait a bit. About twenty minutes. Daily rounds. It is pretty reckless at the moment. There is a drawing,’ he held out the drawing.
Sleeper took it and wrapped out.
‘It is quite detailed. When we come into you can compare it with real walkways. But still we can’t got that far. He nearest walkways only than surveilled area.’
Sleeper attentively investigated the drawing.
‘Is there only this door?’
‘Yes.’
‘Why not blocked?’
‘Sounds strange but out of the security considerations. If the prison is surrounded and the reinforcement isn’t available anymore we need a secret way out.’
‘Cameras?’
‘The same reasons. If someone breaks CCTV they shouldn’t know anything about the door.’
‘Any problem is an opportunity in disguise,’ sleeper smiled. His eyes were burning with excitement. ‘The fortress is so flawlessly elaborated that we got a chance. What do you think?’ He addressed me.
‘Two moments. The first is, are you sure that no one blocks the door or surveille the walkway leading to the door?’
‘We keep it closed. You will have the key. No other blocks are supposed unless you don’t start blowing buildings around,’ the warden answered.
‘The second?’ Sleeper said.
‘We have to know the prison pretty good for an emergency case.’
‘You mean an exit strategy?’
‘Kind of. If something goes wrong what is quite possible as far as I understand. We had rather use the prison as our own fortress.’
‘I see what you mean.’ The warden said. ‘But I have bad news. You are going to starve to death if something goes wrong.’
Sleeper nodded.
‘Yeah. We don’t have enough resources for a long time siege.’
‘Blitzkrieg?’ I asked them.
‘The only way,’ sleeper said. ‘To be more precise, during the first week we are supposed to get new resources otherwise;’
‘We have to fight against the time.’ The warden added.
‘If they don’t get us done. Time will do,’ Sleeper.
‘We can go,’ the warden said and opened the door.
Cautiously we followed him. The walkway was circa fifteen meters long and quite poorly illuminated. Grey concrete walls. Pipelines under the ceiling. The smell of dampness. Everything had a hint of dehumanization. Place here a person and he is doomed to merge with that cold greyish dampness.
We went straight and turned right. As a matter of fact there was no crosswalk to choose where to turn. We just went along the walkway. Soon we reached the door leading to the first floor. We entered it.
‘Look up,’ the warden said.
We did.
‘Two meters higher a prisoner’s cell. Do you see these doors on both ends?’
We looked in both left and right directions.
‘Thee doors lead to the next blocks. All the block are connected beneath the earth. Behind the doors there similar curved walkways designed for prompt mobilization. On the other ends of them there are the same doors like that one. This card,’ he showed us his card. ‘Gives an access to all the doors.’
‘The guard?’
‘Leaving this walkway you enter a surveilled area. It means you face the block guard. They aren’t special forces. You can deal with them but they signal those special squad guarding the prison. Then you have maximum five minutes provided you block all the entry doors. I would recommend you from fighting with them.’
‘The walkways are thin enough, it look like we could withstand here,’ I said.
‘You think right,’ the warden said. ‘But they will enter from all the sides. In several minutes you will be surrounded. Then a half an hour and you are done.’
‘We can withstand everywhere but the enforcement and prison,’ sleeper added. ‘the midgets are really efficient at explosions and small scaled attacks. Here they aren’t able to act. Though, they are the best in the sewers.’
‘In the hustle I will open the cells. The control desk controls the locks. I get them unlocked and sentence myself to death,’ the warden said.
‘We all are going to be sentenced at that day,’ I said.
‘You have to leave now,’ the warden said.

On the way back sleeper told me about increased complexities in weaponry dealing. Another arrest damages the network. Channels are getting closed. Dealers suspend activities. Very few go on running undue risks. Losing trust. The enforcement is working hard on it. Sooner or later they eliminate the last source. Then the end comes.
‘there is no certainty anymore. It is a done deal. I see no sign of possible resurrection. If our uprising fails we don’t lose anything. The only thing I can ascertain is that we never get another chance. It is an all-in game.’
The city has turned into a human utilization factory. As a common empire it is raising on slave’s back. It is nursed with human flesh. Its concrete is resting on human’s bones. Every civilization we know about followed the same path. New hordes were coming to destroy an established order. They showed no mercy in their stalking. They used to burn out old cities, old laws and old nations.
They were messengers bringing a new life but in reality they didn’t change anything. They substituted old slaves with new ones. They never stopped spilling human’s blood. They never learned appreciating human’s life.
Molch’s words struck me again. A Nietzsche’s quote – if you don’t have an enemy create it.
Molch was right. That bloody bastard was right.
‘Tell me,’ I addressed sleeper. ‘If we win, if we force them down what follows then?’
‘the trial,’ he said.
‘And then?’
‘I know a man who is afraid of the same,’ he said.
‘So what are we fighting for?’
A bad question with a no-answer. Never ask yourself that. You are going to be deeply disappointed as if we, the humanity, are cursed to come back to the same point. Again and again. We get us freed from slavery to become exploiters.
It is a fucking cursed vicious flat circle we are doomed to eternally follow. From start to finish which is in essence a start. We are doomed to class society. It is our curse. No way.


















PAUL

Once God was proclaimed dead and the bible became just another book. Thus i don’t rule the fact out that once the manifest will get relegated. What I am afraid of is that once it will become an misinterpreted tool of tyranny.

July, 13-19

Times are changing. Sometimes too fast. What is a week?
Tremendous. Horrendous. Enormous. Stupendous. It was Oakman’s hanging. About one hundred people were demanding Oakman’s death. Thousands voices fused into one roared “Hang!”,”kill!” and so on. There were specially appointed hypers supposed to ignite the crowd. The man brought a loudspeaker to his mouth and growled “kill”. I have never heard such a deep voice. All hatred, wrath and rage hidden in everyone in the stadium burst out of his mouth.
Jack streamlined from the scaffold when his doc proclaimed Oakman dead. We spoke before the execution. I told him about stage anxiety. He said he was ready but he looked like concussed. Such an evil irony – the only one tired from madness of craved ferocity had to execute another one for the wild amusement of a mad crowd.
I knew him from the school. He had no need for blood, violence and killings. He was too phlegmatic to want it. His destiny was a bad joke. He paved his way of a law enforcer through tons of blood and years of violence in rank of a state executioner, a person, whose job involved incessant circle of legal killings. He didn’t use to have bad conscience but we used to underrate the impact a blood color and smell of burnt flesh made on a person who didn’t really like a color of blood and a smell of burnt flesh.
On the following day we met again at Maurice. We talked of different things. Work routine. Everyday. The execution.  I told him about the fight dogs video.
‘Someone broadcasted. Illegally of course.  It is a pure murder. That man was running around. He had no chance. He was like sentenced. The pitbulls were lightning fast. They were cruelly fast.’
‘Many looks?’
‘About sixty thousands online. I don’t know how many after. But it is for the first time. What then?’
‘And surely they didn’t find the IP. We are sons of Tor generations, we are supposed to be cruelty obsessed bastards. It is all I can say.’
I heard once that we would be the last civilization. The end would come with us. And we want it. I come to think, we aren’t the last but the last of a kind.
Jack asked me how I managed not to go completely mad doing my job. I said like I was born to. We all were born to be something. We were all born to be weak and strong. It is habitus. A trait that combines us is that we all got limits. Everyone is predestined to reach that one.
I watched two wicked pitbulls tearing a young guy to pieces. I never heard such crying. It wasn’t a human anymore. It was a beast. A human couldn’t cry like that.
The video was the point of no return for me. The pitbulls ripped out the guy’s throat. I switched off. It was a murder. These people were supposed to be executed. Punished. As for me, I didn’t care cause nature abhors a vacuum.
I thought about los conquistadores. They would come and annihilate us.
The next day I came to office and knew that Jack had been arrested.
‘Is he your friend? That one who is a state executioner?’
I nodded. I couldn’t speak.
‘They say he is a traitor. He participated in extremely suspicious activities. I can tell you, he is said to have dealt with that mad midget and his team. Oakman as well. They will expose him to public with the midget in one cage.’
‘To public? In cage? Madness!’
‘The square.’
I come back to the day when we met for the first time. Just children.
‘Maurice, they execute the only man in that fucking state who abhors violence.’
‘He will be broadcasted, Paul.’
He didn’t surprised me. I had expected something like that.
If you don’t want to cry you keep silent. He came to me and put his hand on my shoulder.
‘Praise god, my friend, he will be just hanged. In a couple of months, they would dismember him.’
In dark silence we were sitting there. July. Sunny days. The fountain of life outside. Someone said the reality was subjective. I was so overwhelmed that couldn’t agree or disagree. I returned into my office. Lovren was scanning videos and news for “the accidents”. There were tens of Lovrens doing that job.
A human mass kept watching two beasts tearing a human to pieces. It was a murder and at the same time it was a future of state executing. People committed suicides everyday. The audience watched and paid. I never thought that once I would see Jack laying on the asphalt.
It was ok. It was a must channel program. It had been ok for me but never more. The system with a dead logic. Deadly straight. Deadly efficient. Deadly impartial.
On the following day I went to the central square. The cages. There were many people around the cages which were thoroughly guarded. It was a raw meat thrown to hungry dogs to ease their hunger. The state fed its dogs to keep them tamed.
I had an access card. They let me close to the cage. I talked to Jack. Once we sat in the same classroom. On the same bench. He was a welcome guest in my parents’ house. We served to this state in different roles.
Something happened. Something turned. There was a cage between us. From the moment on he was encaged, degraded, proclaimed outlaw. In two days he would be proclaimed dead. I couldn’t imagine myself watching his body hanging from the neck until his diseased soul would be vaporized in a wild growl of the hypers.
A week of truth.
At Levy’s office Maurice said:
‘Do you guys know who is that midget we execute this week? They call him Alaric.’
‘Those midgets used to have strange names,’ Levy said.
‘I tell you,’ Maurice said. ‘It is a bad name for us. He is said to be a real frenetic. I have heard something about him. A curious fact, guys, this Alaric is the only known soul who enters a cage with that wild bear in it and the bear doesn’t attack him. There was a lobbyist for midget status change.’
‘Yeah,’ Levy remembered him. ‘He was burnt in the house.’
‘That is right,’ Maurice said. ‘Let’s think, guys, who burnt him there?’
‘A rhetoric question,’ I said.
He nodded.
‘That is why I tell you. It is a bad name for us. This one got no fear. But there is someone deep under the that bloody ground who Alaric might be afraid of.’
‘Who?’ Levy asked.
Maurice shrugged the shoulders.
‘There are people who might know but I am not sure as well as they aren’t.’
‘They know his appearance or something like that?’
‘It looks like, Asm is still alive cause he might have allegedly seen him,’ Maurice cleared.
A week of revelation.
I didn’t wait for the end of a work day and went home. I drank two glasses of rum which someone presented to me. I ended it up. Sat down on the sofa.
An empty week.
Jack streamlined from the scaffold into the catacombs of the stadium deafened by the growled crowd.
A hundred thousands of people demanding Oakman’s death.
A certain boy trying to tear off a pigeon’s head to get likes.
A young guy torn to pieces by two pitbulls.
Jack encaged, exposed, humiliated, degraded. A roaring midget.
A day when my closest friend will be hanged.
There was a certain logic in that chain. In reality there had been no pivotal turn that had changed everything. It would be a mistake to say like that. There had been no violent burst out that suddenly came over me. No. Clarification? Epiphany? To a certain extent, yes. Acceptance. Acknowledgement. Confession. Catharsis. There were many notions to depict the state. Many ways to picture a room with a man in the middle of it.
Looking at that picture you would ask – what did really happen?
Many guesses and suppositions would spin around in your head. I will describe it in one sentence. At first, the sentence I am going to say would seem a kind of strange and nebulous, but there is a certain truth in that cause you never really know. You guess. Have your ever known, for sure, what this man though about right before he smashed against the asphalt? You guess but you don’t know.
That is why fuck those smart alecks speculating “true reasons why”.
Well, asked about the picture, I would say as follows:
Right in the moment the man stepped into the world behind the looking glass and looked around.















JACK
ALARIC

What frightens me is that everything is going along the flat circle. All goes and comes back again and again. What has been build is going to be destroyed.

July, 20

I have already been to that cage. It felt like Vincent was still there on the bench opposite to me. A week ago I accompanied him like an executor. Today I am on the bench with chains on my arms and legs. The truck is driving slowly so that people standing in rows all along the way could get a memorable description of our greyish faces. A man with a midget. Chained in a cage. The sea of flashing cameras. A mass exaltation.
What would you write under the photo?
‘It looks like all the military and police forces are here,’ husked Alaric. ‘Can’t believe they are so stupid.’
People are shouting something completely incomprehensible. At first it doesn’t make any impact on you. You feel nothing but then you are getting tired and your nervous system starts getting overextended, overpressed and overwhelmed by the weight which is piling up all this time. Suddenly you feel you can’t stand it anymore. But you have no option. You are damned to be dying so slow.
The noise is similar to an avalanche moving down but not that fast. A heavy, slow avalanche. From the above, from the below and from the all sides you are clamped in between.
In ten minutes the executioner appeared.
‘Sirs, my name is Lictor Galgen and tonight I will implement your execution. Herewith I would like to assure you that there are no any personal biases from my side towards you. I will execute you and hereby fulfil my professional duty of a sworn state executioner. As you know you will be hanged. I used to implement executions on the highest level. You will feel partially nothing. Just a moment eclipse, then you lose your consciousness. What means you are already dead. Now, I have to go and finish the preparations. I do my best bow and leave you here.’
He left.
He hasn’t let an emotion appear on his stoned face. A true face of justice. No biases, no prejudices, not a trace of human emotionality.
‘The guy is a pure embodiment of the regime. We would escape the rage of the regime but not cold blood of that man.’
‘Just another human,’ said Alaric. ‘My humble self has never been so crucial. And do you know why? Cause I used to be the most neglected one. It began long time before I was born. Unforgettable moment. That big man with massive breast never thought that a man like me could be such a strong piece of meat. Rounded eyes. Astonishment blended with fear and pain grimace. Outcry when  there was a crash of torn tendons. His wrist was no more to restore. Just a useless stump. It is gonna be a show today. People just look believing they see all but they find no secret hidden. Then suddenly they understand that they have been fucked. They just look and expect.’
It is a minute before eight when an unknown man in a parade uniform looking like a kind of impresario comes in and says:
‘Dear Sirs, the show begins, please follow me.’
The guards build two rows per three man in front of us - two rows behind us and per two rows on left and right sides from us. I just forgot to mention – we are all chained to each other by hands and feet.
When the construction has been completed the impresario turned his back to us and the gates went open. Those iron heavy gates. We would really need a tank with a couple of missiles to manage the gates.
So slow and with heavy sounding they rolled out having left a five meter wide opening for us to get through.
Have you ever envisioned a hundred thousand people in one place with every one of them craving for watching you being killed preferably in the cruelest way possible? Such a special feeling, you know?
It just overwhelmed me!
On the scaffold, pretty high over the ground level, there is Lictor - the central element of the whole stadium and of hundred thousand people who came there. It looks like he is accumulating the energy emitted by all of them. Being the kernel of that all he is acting pretty impressing. I can’t help admiring his cold blood and self-confidence. He has something from Vincent in his self-assured diplomacy and nobility and Alaric’s unprecedented self-confidence and determination. Nothing would make him lose his way.
With a controlled stepping we have reach the scaffold stairs.
Lictor raises his arm up to coerce the public into silence and the noise really decreases. I even can hear our stepping and chain clinging.
Silent camera flashing. Some screams, some shouts, some wished to see us die.
We raised the scaffold and got positioned behind Lictor.
He lingers holding his arm still raised. Not a move. He is stoned like a statue. Monumentality in all. His face, his chin, his glance and the posture with his arm held raised till the silence finally has come. For a moment a dark tranquility engulfes the stadium.  Not a voice.
A thousands men surge has become unvoiced. I feel like I lost hearing.
We got places in the first row. The most expensive places which costed our lives.
Then he turns to us and orders his assistances to position us under the nooses. Hatches right under our feet. So precise, so calibrated. No chance to stay alive.
We built up a tight rank right behind his back.
He places himself in front of each of us.
Alaric is short so he bows forward to be able to check the noose.
He stares me into the eyes.
‘I never executed an sworn state executioner.’
There are officers on the corners of the scaffold. Assigned to control the public and instructed when the public is supposed to rage and when to keep silence. When they raise their arms it makes the public rage, when they let their arm into the lowest position the public becomes silent.
Like on a signal they raise their arms up and then down in the same sudden manner. They are drilling them like wild beasts to follow their movements.
There are hundreds of cameras around filming us from all the points and angles.
Hang them!
The public doesn’t want to be disappointed. They demand the handing. They demand it immediately. The demand it cruelly.
Hang them!
The midget circus is there as well. They make a short show attracting the public during the procession. What for? The art of making a complete entertainment out of execution. Alaric’s glance is fixed on them. He is getting fueled by their gestures which are supposed to mean something crucial for him and consequently for us.
Lictor raises his arm again. The stadium goes silent. The dark tranquility.
A time for Lictor to say his speech.
We are sentenced to death. We are pronounced sentenced to death. He held his speech for each of us. There are two sentences.
A public murder of the citizen, a child.
At least, just a treason.
What would you think about in these last minutes of your life?
After Lictor has ended his speech, he closes the order and directs to the lever.
I threw my glance at the free place before the sectors where the midget held a show. They disappeared. I looked once again at Alaric. He turned to me and said pretty quiet:
‘It is coming on,’ and put his glance back into the direction of the free place just left by the midgets.
There is a button close to the lever. He is supposed to push it and the countdown will appear on the big screen.
My last seconds.
We have no bags on our heads. All is for the sake of profitability. People need a cruel picture. Strained eyeballs. Distorted face expression. There is so much curious about a face of a hanged man.
I am trying to abstract myself from that all, to skip that moment of my death. This millisecond moment when death rushes into me. The button. I don’t look at it but I am anticipating Lictor coming to it and push. When would start my last seconds?
…Heimlich schiebt sich eine Wolke
vor die Sonne es wird kalt…

Lictor starts to the button. Having reached it he looks up to the big screen.
‘Time to suffer,’ Alaric whispered.
Lictor presses the button. The screen blinks. “COUNTDOWN” appears. I close my eyes. Totally panicked inside.
The life is a scaffold. There is a certain truth in it. Someone is running, someone is getting done. The rest is watching. The both there are victims of the same thing and it is always about a nature law.
Hut ab! A bow.
















INTERROGATION


‘General, we are nearing the conclusion. Today I have to finish. The court demands. You have heard all the official accusations. However, you haven’t pleaded guilty to all the declared counts. Unfortunately, the war time code you referred to will not have any effect on the verdict which in my opinion is obvious.’
‘The court?’ General wondered. ‘As far as I see I am being interrogated by the interim administration which is not accepted by the state.’
‘However, we reserve the right.’
‘How many defendants?’
‘You are the only one.’
‘Don’t you think it is a extrajudicial execution?’
‘Not. We have prepared counts you are accused of. We have interrogated you and will execute according to the interim administration laws.’
‘However, my friend, your interim administration is not accepted. It is a revolutionary court. It is a extrajudicial execution like those ones you accused me of.’
General pressed his lips. A strained glance.
‘General, I have read a number of counts to you. They were all of different kinds and imply different punishments included death penalties. Nevertheless, in the whole you are accused of conducting deliberate and systematic genocide. Your subordinates will hear the same. Sure, you have a good right to question the interim administration, court, our right to execute you and not to accept us as a fully legitimate administration but still it doesn’t change anything. Besides, as far as I know, you are treated well, aren’t you?’
‘Yes, I have nothing to complain. It is a worthy deal of you.’
‘For you to know, General, as the main prosecutor assigned to your case I am authorized to delay your execution if I take it for necessary.’
He nodded.
‘I know it. As far as I understand, you are still considering a certain number of outcomes including me as a part of a possible deal, aren’t you? You haven’t won yet and honestly time seems to play against you. It is a long term stand. You need resources. Money. People. Weaponry.’
The secretary was incessantly and incredibly fast typing all the words said. General looked at her from time to time as if appreciating her deliberate work.
‘You are right, General. We consider you as a part of a possible deal but strategically it is far too complicated. Still, it looks like I don’t have to keep it from you that you are a pretty precious card we have just to execute. This interrogation is our intention to make things legitimate. You are officially charged and interrogated. We don’t do it extrajudicially as it have been done all these years. We avoid a war time executions.’
‘Nonsence. If I were just a soldier I would have already been shot. I am a good card as you said. That is why I am still alive.’
‘I am supposed to ask you whether you regret what you have done.’
General grinned.
‘They want to know the degree of catharsis. We both know that my repentance will thus have no bearing on the final verdict.’
‘No.’
‘That is what I mean. Even if it would have I wouldn’t. it would be degrading a soldier’s honor. They want just to know the degree of my catharsis. To place my photo and write beneath – I regret, I am sorry, no forgiveness for me. You see, we all humans we all need that humiliation, aren’t them?’
The interviewer said nothing.
General grinned again.
‘I see. You are not supposed to agree. You make a good impression. Anyway, you are trying to be unprejudiced. I have served my state, ma nation. My soldier’s code made me commit numerous crimes for my fatherland’s sake. I got through battlefields drown in human blood. I had to spill it. All in all it is my sacred duty to struggle against someone who threats my fatherland. I have a good recommendation for you I also was once given.’
‘Full attention.’
‘There was a wise man. He said once - He who fights against monsters should see to it that he does not become a monster in the process. I see that your interim administration is about to make a very ancient mistake. Don’t you think, that in many years, in ten, in twenty or in a century there will be a man sitting on my place right opposite to the other one asking him questions?’
A minute pause.
‘So, general, what would you choose – execution or exchange?’
‘First of all I would ask you not to treat common soldiers and officers like their commanders. I know that you are not authorized so far but there is a key in it. You have to follow orders, aren’t you? Soldiers have to do the same. The difference is that if you don’t follow an order, you lose your position. If they don’t they lose their lives. Remember, for a soldier, orders are orders. Once said.’
‘I have heard you, general.’
‘As for me, I have fully done my duty for the fatherland and have nothing to regret about. This trial I tend to see as the last act of tragedy we have witnessed. However, the victor will always be the judge and the vanquished the accused. It is inevitable. Have you ever heard about Wilhelm Keitel?’
The interviewer nodded.
‘He said on the trial - More than two million German soldiers went to their death for the fatherland before me. I follow now my sons — all for Germany. Thus, I would rather follow mine sons. An exchange will change nothing for me. I will do the same duty in the same manner. Sooner or later I will follow my sons.’
























X

What is a war? What is a murder? What is a righteousness? What is a nature’s law?
Where is the difference between them?

CLOCK TICKING.

‘Who will survive?’ I asked myself.
Eight targets at once.
1. The enforcement.
2. The prison.
3. The commodities fulfillment center.
4. The stadium.
5. The four district enforcement points - 3, 4, 5, 6.
The enforcement was the priority. The weaponry stocks.
The commodities center was a strategical source of food and pure water.
The four enforcement points. An indispensable link between the enforcement head office and all the enforcement points around the city. Besides, provided that the enforcement head office and the prison wouldn’t be available as safe havens for the authorities they would bring them in one of these points in districts three, four, five and six. Thus, talking in chess terms they wouldn’t be able to create a castle for their check. If we eliminate the district points they would bring the authorities into the military bases outside the city. We will block the highways. Anyway, to protect them they will mobilize additional squads losing power by neglecting other damaged objects.
Finally the stadium. It was a vengeance. It was an act of horror. It was supposed to demoralize everyone. A heart attack.
That is the plan. Efficiency in simplicity.
I was sitting in a caf; not far from the stadium. I thought that a cup of coffee would be nice. A young girl brought it to me. She smiled and asked whether I would like something else. I thanked her and politely declined.
Overflowed streets leading right to the stadium. An endless stream. They are crying out something I can’t understand. Looking forward to watching someone’s death. It is the essence of a crowd. A blatant madness. They are flowing into the gates of the stadium like a mighty river flowing into a sea. If they only knew that they were stepping forward into the place where most of them would find their death. Someone will burn alive. Someone will get perforated by millions of splitters. Someone will die in the panicked stampede of the crowd.
Hatred is growing up in me. I have been able to keep me cold hitherto but watching them now I am getting really angry.
Little people. Neglected by nature. Humiliated by everyone. Forced to live with rats. Without any rights to coexist in the society. Used like laughingstocks to throw tomatoes to. Fed to a bear for the sake of entertainment. Hated. Despised. And finally dehumanized.
Today they would sacrifice themselves for the sake of future generations. To get us all free. Why should they do it? They could escape but they made the other choice.
When I met Alaric for the first time I didn’t take him seriously. He wanted an explosive and a gun. He seemed to be a complete nut. I couldn’t believe this one was serious. A dirty midget from the circus. I liked his directness. He didn’t tell me sorrow stories about his past and deceased parents. He just asked me to find a gun for him. I asked him why he needed that. He said he needed that to kill a man. I asked him whether he was that serious in his intention and he asked whether I had known a thing about A bear’s hunger. I had known a thing. I should confess that never and no one has ever won my trust so soon. I told him an amount. He stole money to pay. Then they took up cleaning to earn.
If I only knew where it would end. Today Alaric is going to be executed. His people will blow half the city to save him and take their revenge. The have been craving for that day. They know that the day could be their last but they have taken guns and gone down in the sewers. They got it over.
As for me I am living this last hour of tolerated calmness. I want to taste this coffee. It looks like sentimental but I am coming back to my past now and then. In my childhood when everything was illuminated. When my mom was laughing. When all I knew was love. I am smiling unwillingly sipping the coffee. Another outcry from the crowd jerks me back out of my childhood. Today everything can end for me. If we all die today No one will ever remember me but him if he survives and puts aside his gun loaded with a bullet.
Today I put my life at stake saving Alaric’s life. The life of a little humiliated midget who I once didn’t take serious.
Can we still believe that we manage?
When millions eyes are directed at Alaric and the executioner and thousands voices demand for their death four little men with status ‘animal’ will be toiling forward along the empty corridors pushing washers in front of them. No one would ever pay any attention to them. Born to clean human’s wastes.
At the same time their brothers and sisters are entertaining the public by their new performance prepared specially for the event. It is going to be a story telling about a hard way of a human. How we struggled through hardships. How we survived in wild nature being hunted by huge monsters. They know that humans like being flattered. Humans are too arrogant to miss such a flattery. They are watching what the midgets want them to watch.
Ten minutes before the execution Lictor Galgen puts nooses around two necks. The performance ends and the midgets disappear in the catacombs scattering around the stadium and closing the gates.
Macaber and the miners has already intruded the prison but waiting for the attack.
A small truck is parking close to the central gate of the prison. A driver immediately smirks into a hatch at the front wheel. No one has noticed his disappearance. He is too small to be noticed. The guards are concentrating at the gate to control the truck and send someone to check it.
The second midget squad with Riki and two other armed formations is located at the enforcement.
The same is happening at the district enforcement points and the commodities center.
All of them are waiting for the signal.
What is about me?
I will take my place at the control panel surrounded my walkie talkies tracking all the movements and steps of the national army and police. We can’t foresee all their steps. In general I know the manner they will be acting but it would be better to keep an eye on them first hours. Then I take my two machine guns, hand grenades and set off to help Alaric. I am fucking hope he will be alive by that moment.
A minute before the countdown.
A stadium security officer notices that no one pushes washer having left it right in the middle of the walkway. He is cursing those fucking midgets. He comes up to the washer to push it to the wall and suddenly notices that somehow the gates are closed. It seems strange cause no one order to close them and how the hell they would leave the stadium. He comes up close to the gates and pushes it. It suddenly strikes him they are locked. He takes a walkie talkie to alarm.
Macaber looks at his watches. A second arm is following his heartbeat. He is pressing his machine gun as firm as never before. His breath is intensifying and his mouth is getting dry. He looks at Dock tightly clutching a gun. Macaber thought about the dog. He didn’t want to take him but he didn’t dare. The dog would never forgive it him. However, Macaber managed to find a compromise. The dog was set to mine the secret door as a crucial part of the exit strategy. It was everything but easy to persuade the dog from the participation in a fight. With an only arm he would be sentenced.
The warden puts his card at the door lock and slowly opens it. Macaber enters. The others follow him as quiet as possible.
One of the wardens comes to the truck but finds there no one. He makes several steps backwards and suddenly it strikes him. He looks up.
Riki raises his arm demanding absolute silence. He needs to hear the signal. He puts his thumb to the tumbler.
The shadow man is sitting at home watching the broadcast. He has been feeling really soar last days. He felt he had been tremendously neglected by his chiefs. They don’t want to follow his instructions. He used to fulfill his duties as proper as no one. He has never made mistakes and played a wrong card but still they refused his recommendations. He sincerely believes that he doesn’t deserve that. He is fatally soar. He is brutally angry. He wants a kind of reconciliation. In one way or another. They have deprived him of any respect in relation to them. They have strangled his loyalty. Angry eyes fixed on the TV.
As for me. I am about to blow out.
For a moment I fall down into my childhood. The manifest. My dad used to explain me every word written there. He tried to give me a right interpretation of what Theo had wanted to covey.
‘There is no black and white. There is no pure evil. You can’t just judge someone of his deeds.’
‘What is about murder?’ I asked him.
‘Do you know why wolf kills?’
‘To eat?’
He nodded.
‘He kills to survive. If it doesn’t kill nature kills him. He has to do it. Should we blame it for it?’
‘No?’
‘You see sometimes we have to commit very bad things out of righteous intentions. You can’t judge a father who killed saving his child. You can’t blame or judge someone who stole money or food to survive. You can’t judge someone’s wrath if you don’t know the reasons.’
‘But the Bible says...’
He put his hand upon my head.
‘The Bible is a very ancient book of fables about kindness, righteousness and a right way we are supposed to follow. We are humans. We make mistakes. The manifest,’ he took the book. ‘Teaches you to be wise and strong. This book was written by a man who suffered his way through the life. He made very bad things, he spilled blood, he knew what a human was in its essence, in its nakedness, in its wrath, in its death. He sacrificed himself for us to avoid mistakes he once did.’ Dad opened the book. ‘It is not just words and letters. It is suffering. It is blood. It is pain.’
He put the book back.
‘Don’t believe those who say humans are bad creatures. Don’t believe those who say people are owners and masters on the earth. We are not bad by nature. We are just too weak and too fearful. Never force someone to slavery. It is unworthy. No one has a right to be over someone. Don’t judge. There is no black and white. There are only reasons and consequences.’
As far as I know my dad was executed. There is no black and white - he taught me but somehow I am living in the dark.
Today we are dying for a beam of light.
The countdown is a signal to Gaise to switch the tumbler.


ONE BY ONE

Eight blows one by one with a second interval. For a minute nothing happens. The stadium descended into smoke. Seconds of an absolute tranquility. Just smoke and nothing in it. No messages on radio. The broadcast fell out.
Then the chaos broke out. Thousands started crying with pain, fear and despair. People looked at each other and couldn’t recognize their moms, dads, wives, husbands, children and so on. The concrete dust covered them having changed everyone beyond any recognition. Thousands turned dead in a moment. People were crying for help but no help was possible. The blows provided tremendous electromagnetic impulse and no radios functioned. Those who could see something directed to the gates which were closed. They cluttered up the walkways. No one escaped undamaged.
Someone was dead. Someone was mortally wounded expecting the death to finally come. Someone fainted. Someone was just unconscious laying on the concrete floor. However, there were people who was able to walk.
They pressed to the gates along the cluttered walkways. It weren’t human jams that was problem. The problem was that those who could walk did it over distorted bodies of the dead and wounded.
Thus, if someone happened to stay alive they were just stampeded by the crowd.
An uncontrollable cattle was literally counting heads stepping on them. They were tramping childish heads into the concrete. They paid no attention to those who begged for help. They just set a foot on their faces.
Riki got a signal and tumbled on.
Twenty blows followed. Twenty piles crashed. The head office of the law enforcement collapsed. Avalanche like the dust was covering streets leading from the enforcement. Riki didn’t expect that the blows could be so devastating. He didn’t move for a minute. Just got stoned staring at the dust devouring him. If someone happened to survive they wouldn’t pose any danger. They decided to wait for the dust to dissolve and finish those who would come out by shooting them down right on the place.
The commodities center delivered no resistance. Just a scarce guard which has been mostly blown. The others has been shot dead when left the guard station.
The four district points turned to ruins in seconds. Soldiers were crawling out of the less damaged parts of the buildings. The crawled out and were immediately shot dead. No chance to survive. Two points managed to organize the defense. They barricaded themselves behind the walls. Somehow they were able to deliver a fire resistance. However, all they could was just to delay their death desperately expecting the reinforcing they had somehow managed to signal.
They might not be aware of that no reinforcement would come soon. They had no clue about the chaos. In ten minutes after they had barricaded they got informed that they were doomed.

MACABER

The prison guard stepped back and looked up. He made an inhale to cry to warn the others but he heard blows somewhere in the far. Everyone looked in the far.
In a second the truck blew out having thrown them in all directions and torn the gates in rags and tatters. The rain of grenades showered down on the guards slowly recovering behind the walls. The first circle squad soldiers were mostly concussed and unable to resist. The second circle called the reinforcement and directed to the positions to set up a defense. For them it was definitively clear that the attackers were still outside and hesitated to intrude.
But they had no clue about what was happening right in the moment inside the blocks.
The miners broke into the doors pushing their way by shooting everyone in black uniform. The warden unlocked the doors and the prisoner flew out en masse from their cells. In several second the same happened in the adjacent block. From the moment when first shots thundered through the walkways they had just three minutes to leave the place.
They had blocked the doors as the plan entailed. The miners led prisoners along the walkways to the secret door leading to the sewers. They acted as fast as they could counting every second.
The prison security chief got a red signal from the blocks. Just at the moment he was with his squad at the gate waiting for intrusion from outside. Having received the message he turned to the blocks.
‘What the hell! Platoons A and B, the block A.’
He knew how the enemy penetrated behind their backs. The secret door lead into block A. The platoons threw themselves into the blocks doors blocked from inside. Without linger they just put plastic explosives at locking areas and stepped farther from the doors.
When the doors blew open the miners and prisoners we running through the walkways. The walkway leading to the secret door was just two persons wide. That was why they couldn’t escape that fast. Macaber noticed that and ordered to divide in two units and hold the doors leading from the block A itself to the walkways leading to the secret door. The prisoners were escaping relatively good organized. Some of them stopped asking for a gun to help. The miners had no additional weapons. Macaber was growling them not to stop.
When platoons A and B broke into the doors the miners opened a fire winning the moment for the prisoners to run. Soldiers waited for the moment and fired pretty intensive back. It was clear that the miners wouldn’t be able to keep resistance for much longer and Macaber ordered to step back.
Fortunately or unfortunately the prisoners formed a living wall for them. Soldiers didn’t stop firing. The prisoners were being killed in packs.
Macaber heard a number of distinctive clicks. The guns suddenly turned into just pieces of metal. There were many clicks. However, the soldiers heard it as well. The miners were done. The only way was to run. The soldiers were shooting their way through the flow of the prisoners who were attacking them as well throwing themselves on them, pushing them down on the floor, jerking guns from their hands, beating them. It was an extreme massacre as if no one tried to avoid it. They were annihilating each other in a wild unhuman rage.
One of the prisoners knocked down a soldier and set out to strangle him. Macaber threw himself to help. It was about quickness and he just put his thumbs on soldier’s eyes and pressed as hard as he could.
Nevertheless they had to step back. Macaber was incessantly ordering to go away. The prisoners mingled with the miners were flowing into a tiny funnel ending in the sewers. Macaber gripped his men and dragged them back. Some miners were still able to keep firing back but they were a few and couldn’t resist the soldiers anymore.
Macaber heard on radio that the prison had been once again attacked from the outside. It made them hope. He had no more bullets and had to retreat but he kept still dragging his men back. Many of them were wounded and while they were firing back he dragged them. It looked like obvious that many of them were already doomed. However, Macaber wasn’t going to stop.
It made a bullet. He was thrown back right into the doorway. His left shoulder was bleeding hard. Besides, he couldn’t get what happened just looking around and grasping air. He acted like panicked. He was drowned in that bloody chaos mingled with shots, explosions, outcries and moaning. In several second he somehow managed to come back to consciousness  and tried to stand up but couldn’t. The shoulder was extremely agonizing.
He set off to crawl to the door but the area at the door was covered with dead bodies. They were still warm but their eyes were open and fixed on the walls. They laid there as if watching the stars through the concrete walls. They were so calm, so placid. Suddenly Macaber heard someone intensely husking as if trying to say something.
Right opposite to him, leaned at the wall, there was a man with a face covered with blood. Macaber couldn’t recognize him. He strained his eyes trying to distinguish familiar traits but the man’s face was covered with masques of blood and dirt. An eye was swollen. A laceration over the other eye on his forehead.
It was Dock.
His belly was completely busted with guts glistering through the blood. An intense glance of a man struggling for his life. A heavy breath. He was trying to call Macaber.
‘Ma…ma…ma’
He could barely breathe to pronounce a word. Macaber couldn’t but look into his eyes. Someone took him and dragged over the bodies to the door. He was staring into Dock’s eyes. A silent farewell. In this massacre they didn’t have a lot of chances. They had to retreat sooner but from the very beginning the job was a way too risky and unpredictable to adhere to any plan. He was like sentenced. Tears rolling down along his cheeks weren’t seen. Blood, sweat, dust. He was crying. Someone was dragging him away from that hell.
The dog mined the door. The closing miners had to get away at least ten meters from the door. There was a newly created offshoot from both sides. Around twenty men could find there  a place to escape a blast wave. There was a wire. The last one was supposed to slap the door and put the wire to the hook. When the door opens the next time the pin gets pulled out. Three seconds and there is a pile of corps under the collapsed ground. Soldiers would be trapped. Moving ahead wouldn’t be possible. Soldiers wouldn’t even be able to see them. That was the exit strategy.
That one who ran the last did everything right. The closing group of miners and prisoners heard the door opening and turned into the offshoot. For about two minutes they were proceeding forward by touch having to inhale dust but no one paid any attention to that.
When they all reached the underground some prisoners sat down on the earth and cried. Two prisoners carried Macaber. He heard someone calling for Dock. He was brought to a trailer where the radioman was hearing messages over a walkie talkie. Macaber could barely even pronounce:
‘Tell.’
‘Everything is blown,’ the radioman said.
For a moment Macaber felt a relief. It hadn’t been in vain but he was falling asleep with a heavy heart. Dock was a person who helped him when he had come from the camp. Dock gave him a jackhammer. Dock became his friend in an unfriended world. Macaber would never forget Dock sitting there covered with blood and his guts out trying to pronounce his name. He left him there dying. The glance he would never forget anymore. A life time sentence.



















JACK - ALARIC

I got deafened and thrown back from the hatch. I made a deep inhale and opened eyes. Another blow. Then one more. Then more several blows followed. I could barely hear but still was able to see. In a moment a dust cloud swallowed everything. I turned my head left.
Alaric managed somehow to slip from the noose. Fallen on the floor he let his body go through the loop formed of bound hands. As a result he got his hand in front of him. I certainly wouldn’t be able for such a trick. I looked around. Lictor must have fallen from the scaffold as well as one of the wardens. The other one looked like being in groggy. He was sitting on the floor holding his head in the hands.
Alaric jumped on my back and took the noose from my neck.
‘Pull your hands beneath like me,’ he cried.
‘I can’t,’ I cried him back.
The warden looked at us and reached his arm out to take a rifle. With my hands bound back I ran up to him and hit with my leg against his head. Now he turned to be knocked out.
‘Run!’ Alaric shouted.
I still could scarcely hear him but I understood what he was crying. We jumped down from the scaffold. Landed at my feet I nonetheless fell on my side a meter away from Lictor. He laid on his right side with his head bleeding and his eyes directed right at me.
‘Fast!’ Alaric cried.
Lictor blinked.
‘Are you ok?’ I cried to him understanding that I wouldn’t hear his answer.
He nodded.
Alaric grabbed me at hand and helped up. Lictor turned on his back. Hope he was ok cause he was quite kind and full of respect to me. I didn’t want him to die.
We started. I followed Alaric. He definitely knew where to run. Despite his short legs he ran pretty fast taking into consideration that visibility wasn’t more than five meters. I was blown and shocked. The buzzing was all I could hear. I didn’t understand nothing but I knew I should follow Alaric. There were thousands of concrete pieces around. Due to poor visibility I had barely stumbled over them several times.  Fortunately, Alaric was a master of pathfinding. He was choosing the right runways. I felt so helpless and thanked all the gods who exist and who don’t for Alaric. He was my savior.
Thus, in couple of minutes we reached small door located right under the tribune where the midgets had disappeared after the show. Running along the thin walkway It flashed through my head that there were no blows close to this door.
We turned left and found a hatch. Alaric jerked it up. There was a vertically designed manhole.
‘Lay down,’ He commanded. ‘you have to pull your hands. There is a ladder.’
I laid down and started trying to pull them. Alaric gripped me at hands and propped his feet against my buttocks and pulled my hands really hard. I was moaning like a child at a dentist but I found my hands in front of me. The shoulders hurt but I didn’t care much about it going downwards the hole.
I Jumped down right into the water. The sewers. Alaric and a small army of the midgets. I was still feeling a bit groggy but I clearly understood that I was the happiest of all the people. Five minutes ago I counted my last second with a noose on my neck. I died five minutes ago.
Ulf embraced Alaric as firm he was able to. 
‘We all need it,’ Gaise said. ‘But we have to go.’
Someone pushed a machine gun having ripped me out of the comprehension of my reborn.
With red eyes directed into Alaric’s and welled up tears Ulf said:
‘Go! The first stage is done.’
‘The sleeper,’ Alaric said.
‘They will save the authorities. We don’t have ideas where. The sleeper is hearing the radio to localize them. I am waiting the message. To not lose time we are supposed to block the western highway. There are three main military units outside the city. On the west, north and east. Riki takes the north.’
‘How many men has he?’
‘It is ok. There are a couple of human squads. Besides, about thirty men are moving now to block the eastern highway. We have to hurry up.’
Alaric nodded. Ulf stated. We followed.












THE SLEEPER

The first stage is a success. The second stage is the authorities.
Alive or dead. Actually, I don’t care but he considers alive is better.
I had been deliberately hearing the radios and figuring out what I would do if I were one of them. I was shuffling tens of outcomes and possible consequences. What would I do? It was like playing poker. You never know your opponent’s cards. I was reading his face but seeing no emotion which could give away something precious. It was naturally a way too complicated game to win especially if your opponent was an experienced routinier.
There were four of eight. They never appeared all together being pretty prudent and it looked like they were completely right.
I had been nervously racking my brains till I got message.
Eight armored cars.
It was obvious. We were able to block only three directions. So, we had to let one escape.
I immediately messaged all three groups located on the western, northern and eastern highways to get ready for coming cars. The first car would be with reinforcement, the second with the chief.
Three generals and Lucius himself.
I hoped he started in one of three directions we had blocked.
I took my rifle and left the flat. The group were instructed as for the action plan if they would manage to capture one of the leaders. I ran out from the house and headed westward. I was running as fast as I could but surely it was pure despair. No chance I would manage on time. I needed to stop a car or just a started car. Fortunately, after a good kilometer of desperate running I ran across a man bandaging his son’s arm at the rear seat of his car which was off. I didn’t hesitate long and ran up at him with the rifle pointed at him.
‘Start up!’ I shouted.
‘Please, I;’, he wanted to say something but I cut him quite toughly short.
‘Fast!’ and shot in the door.
I grabbed him at the collar and pushed.
‘The bridge in the west! Fast!’
He obeyed. Along the way I was spurring him to drive faster. He obeyed. He got paled and could hardly say something. Excessively panicked he clutched the wheel so firm that his fingers got white.
It hadn’t been ten minutes when we reached the bridge.
‘Stop here,’ I showed him the place.
Getting out of the car I said to him:
‘Now, fuck off here as far as possible.’
He obeyed. Again. I started for concrete block positioned along the road. There was a construction site. We couldn’t find a more suitable place to attack the escort from. I noticed a squad of little people running to and fro.
‘Alaric!’ I cried out.
‘Here!’
A midget stepped forward put of the block and raised his rifle up. It was dark and I couldn’t distinguish the face but I had no doubt it was Alaric.
‘You are unbelievable mother fucker!’ I blurted out and firmly embraced him.
‘Got a hard run in that smoky hell,’ he said.
‘We are expecting them every second to come,’ Ulf said.
He had barely pronounced the last word when we heard motors roaring in the far. 
‘Them,’ I said. ‘Thorns?’ I addressed Ulf.
‘No, we throw a grenade.’
They were dramatically approaching us. Ulf started counting down from nine. They were so close but he lingered. I was burning inside. Alaric was staring at Ulf. Everyone couldn’t but staring at him. He was to throw a grenade. I heard “four”. He took out the pin stepped out from the block and threw it. In cold blood. He was astonishingly calm.
Boom!
The both cars went from the road. The first one was in fire and apparently no one survived there. I moved to the chief car which were just laying turned over. Having reached it Alaric jerked the car open and checked inside.
‘Fuck!’ he cried. ‘No one but a driver.’
He got me stricken by saying it.
I started for the other car. It was just burning. Someone yelled that no one was inside.
Alaric looked at me.
‘They are quite smart,’ Jack said.
Once here at the car I noticed him. He might have been on the other road side.
A message from the eastern group peeped in my pocket. I took the cell.
“General. Dead.”
‘It is the east. One of the generals is dead. There are still two generals and Lucius.’
‘I wouldn’t be that surprised if Lucius hasn’t left the stadium,’ Jack said.
Another message peeped. It was Riki.
“General. Taken alive!”
‘You know what?’ I said. ‘We got a general!’
Numerous exclamations followed. Instead of three generals and Lucius we captured only one general but no one showed any sign of sadness. It was a victory everyone didn’t dare to dream on. We got a joker in that game. A captured general gave us lots more room to maneuver.
It was a mass exaltation. Dozens of little people were embracing, crying and roaring something. Some of them were sitting on the ground with guns put aside. Alaric and Ulf were sitting on the block watching an armored car burning.
A moment of mental calmness. So tranquil inside I was. So slow. So relaxed. So calm. So soft.
‘Their first day of freedom,’ I said to Jack. ‘Just think a bit, they have never been free.’
‘I am as well,’ he said. ‘And you?’
I nodded and sat down next to him.
‘Sooner or later comes the time we have to answer the question – what do we do with that freedom?’ He said.
I smiled and said:
‘To live free.’
‘You have to teach us if you know how.’
Right words. He made me just think how people who had never known what the freedom felt like should manage to live free.
‘What then?’ he asked.
‘The third stage involves the channel, declaration and prevention of stand extension.’
‘And what does it mean?’
‘On TV we proclaim the revolution and a newly created administration. We will call people to join and they will do. At the same time we should avoid a continuous war. We got two options – either we get them done during two weeks, at least damage them so much that they won’t be able to retrieve that soon or we accumulate more resources to be able to wage that war longer.’
Alaric and Ulf came up to us.
‘She is in a safe place,’ Ulf said.
‘I told you,’ Alaric smiled. ‘He was quite worried in the cage,’ addressed to Ulf.
‘Thanks, guys.’
‘So, my friends, no way back anymore,’ I said.
‘What is about resources?’ Alaric asked.
‘A bus full of weapons and hundred kilo of explosives in it,’ Sleeper said. ‘Besides, you got four district points destroyed, if we dig a bit there we can reach gun rooms. They got many a gun there.’ He said.
‘So why are we sitting here?’ Alaric spurred.
He started laying out his plan to the midgets. They stopped talking, exalting and crying. They turned themselves to their newly obtained leader and didn’t dare to distract themselves from his words.
‘Jack, would you like to see the one who wrote the letters to you?’
He didn’t reply but I got that he really wanted. Actually, from now and then our eyes give us away.
‘At the moment, this man is lying on a bunk in a trailer with a bondage on his left shoulder. He can’t stand up and walk but he will in a couple of days. Today he has been on the edge of death. They attacked the prison.’
‘Madness,’ Jack said. ‘You need an army to attack that fortress. Many dead?’
‘A half. Hundreds of prisoners are free. You are right, you need an army unless you have a man therein. You know him,’ I smiled.
‘The warden?’
I nodded.
‘Who if not him,’ Jack said. ‘That man, who wrote letters, is he a miner?’
I nodded again.
‘Lead me,’ he said.
‘Right now?’ I asked him.
‘I would appreciate a lot.’










PAUL

The last I remember was a blow at the supporting column forty meters to the right from us. I barely felt it when it blew again. In a second I lost my consciousness.
I didn’t know how long I had been out. Woken up again I found myself in the middle of an impenetrable dust fog. I could hardly see my own feet. As a matter of fact I woke up cause I started coughing intensely. A sort of muted ringing in my ears. I spitted out dust settled down on my tongue and looked around for the exit doorway to get out of here.
It stated hurting hellish over the right ear. I touched there and found blood on the fingers.
I remembered that Maurice preferred to come home to watch the broadcast on TV. Levy. In the moment of the first blow he stood next to me.
‘Levy,’ I husked through the coughing.
No one replied. I called him again but no one reacted.
‘Hey!’ I tried to call louder to find anyone who could be alive. No one replied. It was still ringing in my ears. Not that I was deafened but I needed to be loader to hear myself. I sat down and made an attempt to stand up but it was everything else but an easy deal. Somehow, with a help of the wall I managed to stand up and started for the exit leaning on the wall.
I had barely made two steps when I stumbled over Levy. A second of a happy hope. I stooped to get him up and noticed a piece of steel with a concrete on it protruding from his belly. His head at a seemingly unusual angle tilted forward and aside as if he was staring at his massacred belly. His neck might have been broken.
It sounds strange but he didn’t get me shocked cause I was already deeply shocked. In a couple of minutes I reached the place with a relatively breathable air. There were many people following straight along the walkway. I joined them in that pilgrimage.
Through my professional life I had known so much about human psycho and hidden mental abilities and strengths. I had used to wonder how people could keep walking with broken legs and damaged spine, keep breathing with damaged lungs and even speaking with glistering brains through the rifts of a destroyed skull. I had wondered it but I explained it by a state of shock, by an immense eruption of adrenaline making a person calmly do things they would have never done in a sober state.
In an hour, when I was sitting on cold asphalt I got that all the way out of those ruins we had been following through the damaged walls and heaps of ruined concrete mingled with human corps. It hadn’t been a civilized evacuation through walkways and emergency stairs. Someone had just happened to find a way through ruins. I had mastered this way without being aware of it.
For several minutes I couldn’t figure out what the substance was on my right shoe. A fire man told me then it was one’s brains. I put them off and threw away into a trash box.
Under the influence of tens of black bags stocked along the pavement I couldn’t conceive that I had survived it. Somewhere in the middle of this living hell there was Levy sitting with a piece of steel in his chest. Fuck. He had never been a saint man but he had surely deserved a better way to die. The next time I would come in the office I would get immediately sick at the sight of his empty chair. Years of shoulder to shoulder and just in a moment everything gone away.
‘The whole city is on fire,’ a fireman said. ‘We just don’t have enough manpower.’
‘What else?’ I asked him.
‘The law enforcement head office, their district centers and the prison. It is a living hell, man.’
‘it is a revolution,’ suddenly I got suspicious about Maurice.
Could he be aware of the blows?
If he wouldn’t admit that he had known, that suspicion would damn me for endless guessing. It looked like a nonsense. He would have warned us unless he had wanted to avoid a panic and informational leak. That was the problem. I could explain both versions. They both made sense. I came up to an official who seemed to be a kind of responsible for evacuation or for something else but it didn’t matter for me. He was an official.
‘How could I get home?’
‘Taxi are coming there onto the parking lot,’ he pointed to the parking lot in about two hundred meters from us.
I thanked him and headed there.
‘Do you need shoes? We got one-time shoes.’
‘No, thanks, I like it barefoot.’
Too many dead men, too many black bags, too much blood and death around to be worried about one time shoes. I had really no right to complain about. I survived and it made me feel like being born dead lucky man. I had never witnessed so many reporters in the same place. They were shooting corps with severed limbs, with blown bellies, destroyed skulls and so on. They were doing quite that what made the channel a rich and powerful influencer. They i.e. we didn’t care who had blown who, what they had meant or what they had intended.
We needed blood and death. Ratings, man.
Today Shoggoth wouldn’t find an exclusive. Too much blood and guts around to find something more thrilling.
Having got a taxi I wanted to tell him my address but I changed my mind in the last moment and said Maurice’ address.  Under the way I was reckoning on what I would ask him. Would he get suspicious about me? I would say that Levy was dead and me completely shocked. I would tell him a story of my salvation through a dusty mist. I would tell him about firemen claiming the lack of manpower and a living hell.
Don’t ask question and you will hear no lie.
He opened the door and let me in. He didn’t look shocked and thrilled.
‘Playing with fire, you're going to get burned,’ he said.
I must be looking a bad pretender.
‘I didn’t know, Paul. I am a homebody. It is calm and quiet here. There is a comfortable sofa. Finally, no one here is talking rot. That is why I stayed here today.’ He sat down against me. ‘We have gone too far. We have deserved that. Sooner or later someone comes here, breaks my high tech doors and string me with my head down.’
He didn’t show any emotion. He talked like someone expecting for their execution. He was a bit drunk bit far too tired.
‘You got the bunker,’ I said.
He nodded.
‘For a week, maybe for a month. Then, if they haven’t broken that yet I will go mad and come out myself. As a matter of fact I got a gun. So,’ he grinned. ‘I don’t have to wait for hanging, I got an opportunity to do it myself.’
He emptied glass.
‘And not so painful,’ he added.
‘Levy is dead.’
He put his head into his hands.
‘That is what I don’t want to hear.’ He fumbled quietly.
He rubbed his face pretty intensely. His face got red and his hair curled.
‘Fuck!’ he cried out. ‘Fuck!’
Then he got quiet again.
A tear dropped down on the glass table.
‘What the hell, Paul, what the fucking hell. And you know what?’ he looked at me. His eyes were red and wet. He never looked so old and done. ‘We have fucking deserved it. Treating your fucking dog in a raw manner don’t wait it being a lovely pet.’
I am going to be short.
The ship is wracked. We are on the bottom. Hope the water doesn’t crush us in a second.
I haven’t seen Jack hanged.





JACK

‘You are to blame why I am here,’ I said to him.
‘You are not alone.’
‘I remember. What is your name, man?’ I asked him.
‘Macaber,’ he said.
‘I knew a good man with a strange name and I heard people lose their names in camps.’
‘That is true.’
‘Seventeen percent.’
He smiled.
‘How did you manage?’ I asked him.
He though a bit, turned to the one-handed and asked him.
‘What do you think?’
‘They killed my dog.’
‘As for me, Jack, someone has to write the letters.’
‘Thank you, Macaber,’ I shook his hand. ‘He said you are supposed to sleep much.’
Macaber looked at the one handed.
‘This one is a real thorn,’ he nodded.
‘We have much to do,’ I said. ‘So, have a rest, we all need you healthy.’
I went out. The sleeper and the one-handed stayed in the wagon.
There are too many people and too much dust down here. I have been breathing it for a pretty long time to be here any longer. I am feeling like walking away from here up to the fresh air.
I am walking away from the things I have been.
It is a pitch dark up here on the river and just rare stars are blinking on its surface. I am thinking about everything what has happened in the course of last months as if letting it go away into the darkness.
Iacubus the exorcist. I knew him just for a couple of weeks. He didn’t drastically influence me but somehow he is like an unforgettable imprint on my hands. The one who revealed an army of demons for me. A strange freak who killed an innocent man. A common psycho who killed an innocent man. However, I am like the same.
Vincent. The one who damaged me the most. Who if not him has deserved to be here but I hanged him a week ago. He is the last in my army.
Having been a part of the great. Betting human deceased lives in the bookery. Having been degraded to the nothing. Being a beast in a cage. Being hated. Being despised. Being a traitor.
Maybe, being beloved.
Whatever I made, whatever I said, whatever everyone made and said there is still a long road for us to go. It is just the first day coming.
How many bones are on the bottom of this river? There are still thousands for it to put to rest. Streaming somewhere into the pitch dark. One by one we are entering the water being in the dark about ourselves. The stream takes us up and brings somewhere far from here.
Losing the roots. Somehow it hurts. Somehow it relieves.
Where is it bringing us to?
Where the river flows.
There was a man who said once:
“It is pitch dark before a new dawn comes.”