Chapter Text
The sky was on fire. On. Fire. A flash, so bright and piercing even the turns and bends of the metro, nor shutting my eyes did nothing, as if I was staring directly at the sun. Then, like an open flame it shifted to a shining blue to orange. An orange similar to these in Cheburashka, baked inside of a deep, red crimson unlike any banner above city institutions. It was unlike anything I’d seen in my life, nor my parents or their parents nor damn anyone in my lineage.
The alarms had already rang across the entire city, piercing my ears to an ungodly amount. My ears felt as if they’d explode, at-the-least bleed. There was nowhere for me to run, trapped in a metro car, utterly hopeless.
“If there was a God, why would he do this, to cleanse his beloved world of everything, including me? A simple joke, my life washed away like shells on the shore, a child’s doll to be thrashed about and discarded?” Played through my mind, shock rising and falling in me within an instant, a lightswitch flicked on-and-off by a child. A broken record, repeating the same mantra that this was my end, my life ending with a whimper deep underground, already in a concrete grave. This mantra repeated in my head for what felt like an hour, though only seconds. Soon, a wicked blast from that mushroom swept through, tunneling and boring through the metro stairs. It blew downwards, a mad, mangy guard dog springing towards its prey, the metro car. I rocked wildly, thrown around on the rocking horse of a car. Backpacks, avoskas and children’s toys battering myself and the windows relentlessly. Then, crash.
Where
am I?
What the hell is happening?
That sound. Painful. My ears, damn! No, actually..god, it’s not my ears just.. No. Damn, my whole head, feels like some psycho went to town with a sledgehammer on the back of my skull. I don’t know where the hell I am. I’m in pain, I think. Every second it worsens and worsens, my vision clearing and that noise slowly dragging itself away, out of my aching head. There’s blood all around, I can’t tell what's mine, others or the seat colour. Okay. pull yourself together. Whining and moaning gets you nowhere, so get up.
I’m in a rail car. Toppled over. I can’t get up. Why? There’s something on top of me. It's. It's. I need to get up. Stupid, stupid garbage on top of me. I push and push, fighting to get up as my vision focuses. A suitcase. It’s a damn suitcase over me. A mere suitcase, stands over me, pinning me down as I choke, spit and suffocate in the gray, dank air. If I wasn’t in such a condition, I’d almost laugh at the situation. Whatever the hell got me here has tired my muscles out, and there seems to be no way for me to break free. Out of energy, I scan the railcar, looking for something to pry the case off me. God. Corpses, corpses everywhere around the carriage. Skin, melted and molded to the bones of the skeletons charred deep, desaturated reds. Ash everywhere, swirling and catching any faint drift it can, choking me. An umbrella, its canopy ripped and gone like the october trees with a crooked, jagged spine. I see a cane, simple and sturdy. That would work best, thankfully just in reach. I extend my fingers, barely wrapping them around its crook as I bring it closer.
It slips from my trembling hand, thankfully closer to where I can wrap my other arm around, if I strain. Hugging it close to my side, I slip it under the suitcase. What the hell is in this thing anyway, bricks? I brace myself, putting as much strength as I can into this cane. Hmmph. It’s off, but my body is exhausted, as I feel myself nodding off to sleep. I try my best, my damn best to stand up, but I crumple to the ground. I try again, holding onto the holding bar, all bent and golden like our flag’s sickle. I stand for a second, my legs and left arm trembling, barely standing on my knees. I can’t hold on any longer, my grip falls from the post as I do to, back in my seat. So I can’t walk out of here. Great. Just so, so wonderful. I need to move. I crawl, crawl with what pathetic strength I have left to crawl out of here. I flop out of my chair, my face abruptly meeting the floor. Left, right, left I throw my arms, dragging myself across the cracked linoleum. Every throw of my shoulder feels as if it’s been ripped out of its socket, kept clinging on by a meaty, spindly rope that twists with every shaky breath. Back, and forth, keep going. The pain of everything makes me want to cry and give up. That’s not for me though, I’m not a weakling.
Finally, I’m at the platform door. Took me long enough. Alright. The gap, of course. I don’t know why I wouldn’t expect one, after all I’m stuck deep under the earth. I don’t know why I’m even here, though. Damn. That’s deep. Deeper than anything I could’ve possibly imagined, a perfectly straight chasm tunneling into the deepness of concrete, stretching on and on. Miles deep, till it reaches the earth's core and tunnels and tunnels through it, nothing in its way. Focus, damnit! Go, go. Keep crawling, you didn’t get here just to stare at something you’d never understand. I’m scared, though. I don’t want to go, but I don’t want to stay. What if it opens up, and swallows me whole into the deep dark? A deep dark, where I’ll feel nothing but the wind howling through my ears, drowning out my thoughts as it gets warmer and warmer, till I burst and char from the inside-out? Maybe, maybe I’d shove myself into one of the walls. I’d become nothing but a red splatter, but at least it’d only hurt for a moment. I’d choose it too. But, I don’t want to. One push, just get over the damn gap. I splay out my fingers over it, digging them into the cracked tile as tightly as I can. I throw all I can into my arms, before throwing my upper half over. There. Not terrible. Now, my legs. Those shouldn’t be too hard, I feel like they're getting better, since I got to this gap. Left one, up and over. Now the right. Pick it up, move it, then drop it on the other side of the gap. There. I’ve crossed over, but still right where I was. The fucking metro.
I don’t know what the surface awaits me, but there’s only one way to find out. Left arm forwards, right arm forward. Just keep clawing at the ground, like a canoe. Canoes. I am a boat, not of oak or maple but flesh, pain and mind rocking back and forth as it crosses over murky water. Murky, murky water in the middle of deep night. A deep fog rolls in, its vice tight on my throat as great whales in their sardine cans beckon for others, for any company. I cannot stop though, I won’t comfort them in the deep blue. Churning across the waves, the small glimmer of a lighthouse peeks closer and closer every second.
The light looms upon me now, only miles and miles above upon a high dock where I crane my neck to new limits, still with no chance of seeing its origin. Is it solace, a respite from this place or the lure of an anglerfish? There is only one way for me to know, so keep paddling. The escalator, the only thing between me and my light is askew, steeper than any mountain goat dare to summit, razor sharp barnacles at its arêtes. I plunge my hand into the steel barnacles, a cold, grating pain in my palms from it, as it goes deeper and deeper into my hands as I climb and climb. Let go, let go. Trembling. My hands are trembling at mach fuck. I want to let go so badly, I need it like one needs food and water. I don’t give up. I’m not some spineless coward. The cliffs start receding, dragging me upwards, ripping at my skin. I blink, and I’ve summited this mountain. I don’t know how, but I’m here. The contraption shakes erratically, ripping me from my thoughts like they did my skin prior. I need to get up, I won’t lose more to the damn automatic stairs. I shift my focus upwards, towards the heavenly bronze sky that lured me closer and closer moments ago.
Fallen buildings layered upon each other, all blackened, twisted metal pillars leered out towards me, forming iron bars obstructing the sky, its grip outstretched towards the sun. Each pillar etched with the ruins of a hundred offices, all of it concrete shavings snaking upwards.
The bombs have fallen. The day has come. No word in the entire Russian language can truly describe how I feel. Despair, awe, anger? A shade of toska deeper than the pacific?
The land is ashen, the fires of that blast already snuffed out, not an ember remaining. The sky is dead silent, not an alarm nor scream sounds. Ash sluggishly drips from the sky, landing as scarce charcoal snowflakes. The pavement is already covered in it, while shadows with no master carve the walls of a maze onto it. Cars, the metro entrance and the outline of birds are sketched into it. An unidentifiable mass stands, fatter and taller than any car. It’s all smoothed lines smushed together tilted up, branches jutting outwards with a wart-like top, splayed out like a putrid, festering tumor. I stagger up the last few stairs, my right leg a sack of potatoes. I tower over this shape, my body trembling as my legs fight to stay balanced. Furry grass pushed by the wind presses out from the tumors, like a driver’s hair with the window down. I stare and stare at this formation, this, this alien shape in front of me. My eyes dance across the shape, zig-zagging from one place to another. I try and try, but nothing connects. There is nothing this could be, so I must be seeing things. Am I stupid? Of course I’d see things, that’s why I have eyes. I hallucinated it. There, that’s proper. Move on. I continue down the sidewalk, my foot dragging.