Echo of the Past

26. Marcin, Nivan, Winter

Translator: Schiotka

Editor: Pasadera, JacquelineMonaie

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Marcin

I was lying amongst a ton of colorful cables. I floated there... gently, drowning in the coils of color that twisted and moved like waves.

I was looking up at the enormous moon. Snow-white in color. Concealing the dark sky with its luminous expanse.

I was naked. Staring at the white moon.

I allowed myself to be carried away by the calming waves of tangled cables. I wasn't cold. I wasn't warm. I wasn't sad, nor happy.

I was indifferent.

Infatuated with the glow of the white moon, limply floating. Hypnotized.

My passiveness didn't last. The calm was destroyed by an approaching bird. A colorful one, just like the waves carrying me. With a long, beautiful tail...

The bird perched on my body, as if I were his boat, a great raft.

The waves churned uneasily, and I suddenly realized that I couldn't move. The only thing I could do was move my eyes. I could look at the moon, or at the bird that was picking at my entrails.

Entrails made of tangled cables.

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They entered the room with a loud bang.

Alex jumped in his seat when the door flew open.

He opened his mouth to express his disapproval, but when he saw the Redheads grim face, he decided against it.

He immediately knew something serious had happened.

He slipped his headphones off his head, watching as Nazar slid down the wall to sit on the floor.

His face glistened with small drops of perspiration; he was panting heavily.

Nivan seemed barely fatigued.

"Alex, did you ever go back to our old hideout, after all that happened? Did you ever spend time there?" Nivan asked without hesitation.

The dreadlocked guy's eyes opened wide. He didn't like the Redhead's tone.

"What?" he frowned. "Where did that come from?"

"Did you, or not?" Nivan asked, his brows drawn tightly over his eyes.

"Of course not. What the hell is this, an interrogation?"

Seeing Nivan's expression, he felt a sudden stab of anxiety.

"Fuck..." said the Redhead, in place of an explanation. Making a few random, hesitant movements, he left the room, leaving the exhausted Nazar behind with a perplexed Alex.

"What's going on?" Alex demanded, concerned and displeased.

Nazar wiped his forehead with the back of his hand.

"I found some photographs in that old hideout of yours. I was looking through them and by some weird coincidence there was a picture of the Redhead's ass."

"Marcin?" he asked, surprised.

"Never mind that," said Nazar, still sitting on the floor. "The Redhead went all ballistic because his photo, and a bunch of the others, have these sick crosses on them."