PROLOGUE
Left Behind

A tornado of black hair veined with red crossed the room, a ray of mother-of-pearl illuminating a few curls in its path. A slender body, suspended for a few seconds in the air, crashed heavily onto a table which collapsed under the shock, like a bird hit in mid-flight. A muffled groan escaped the young woman's throat and she had to fight against fainting.

Division No. 18

Saskatchewan, Canada

In the dark space, only the whites of her eyes contrasted with her copper skin, the latter giving the impression of blending into the darkness. A puff of steam formed before her lips in contact with the cold and her gaze fixed on the gap between two wood boards.

It was an old abandoned shack whose windows and other holes in the walls had been blocked by a faded sofa or ruined mattresses. From the outside, the place looked more like a prison where children were held captive than a real home, once occupied by a family of honest workers. But no one had been there for years.

The earth was already wrapped in its white coat which reflected the brightness of the sun. A ray illuminated the young woman's face to bring her back to life. A trickle of blood dripping from the corner of her lips, she felt the metallic taste spread deep down her throat. Her eyelids were so heavy, her fatigue so strong, that all she wanted was to fall into a blissful sleep.

In the distance, she saw what looked like a tree, the last leaves of which would fall with the next breath of wind. She blinked and a tear slipped, rolling from her high cheekbone to her ear. Nothing else existed. She didn't hear the screams around her. Nor did she feel the pain in the small of her back, nor did she notice the shadows moving. She would have liked to, but the space left between the two slats of the cabin was like a blessed gift from the gods. Her doom was near, the tip of her nose was frozen, her extremities had lost all sensitivity and her teeth were chattering.

Her hair was dotted with ice crystals, but the simple feeling of the few rays of sunlight on her skin warmed her heart.

Optimistic and fighter by nature, this young woman, driven by faith, could never have believed that one day, she would have asked to end it, right now, so as to no longer suffer. It had been several days that an illness had been taking hold in her body, creeping into her veins. And this nagging migraine that never left her, this threatening nausea, and since that morning, the oxygen that was becoming scarce...

The journey was getting rougher every day. Her lips murmured a silent prayer, asking for clemency, for freedom. For the first time in her life, she abdicated.

A shadow blocked her vision, returning her to the dark cold and suddenly she began to cough, as if the sun had lifted its blessing. After this flash of lucidity, she plunged back into hell. She twisted herself and tried to escape the hands that grabbed her. Her shoulders were squeezed so tightly that she beat her feet to flee until she felt herself being lifted from the debris of the broken table.

Under the light filter, the dust shines like a thousand golden flakes.

November 2026

She gasped for air as if she hadn't breathed for hours, locked in a black box.

One arm under her legs and the other behind her back, she gagged as she felt the dizziness of the height. It was only by his smell that she recognized him. Despite the temperature, he was sweating profusely and smelled of powder mixed with the earth. His breath reached her, imbued with the scent of wine, a warm memory of the day before when they had unearthed the cabin's cellar. However, their treasure hunt had stopped there.

She opened her eyes to see his rough beard which distorted his chin and was aging him. She was already infected, but he showed no symptoms. His eyes were still blue, contrasting with the grime of his face, and a grin of effort stretched his lips to reveal large teeth. They had thought the cold would eradicate this nasty virus, but it had only gotten worse.

She clung to him with one hand, consoled by his voice, deep and low, which told her not to worry, that he held her. Each step was a jolt, like hammering a nail, the shock vibrating through his back. Between two painful sobs, she prayed.

After a moment, she felt herself capsize and her feet hit the ground again. He then put an arm under hers to help her walk. Then, one step after another, she began to move forward alone, guided by the man's voice which gradually became clearer to her.

Their car had been stolen and they had sold the horses they found abandoned on a farm, for food and some medicine. They had nothing left.

They had been walking for two days and all they had eaten was a sick rabbit which they had no trouble catching.

She was now so weak that every breath was an ordeal, especially in such weather. But they fought against fatigue with the hope of coming across a village, a shelter, a settlement, something, someone who could help them, even take them to a hospital. The houses remained desperately empty.

There was only a sparkling white desert, and each city offered them less than the last. To combat melancholy, he said everything that came into his head:

– When you feel better, he panted, I will introduce you to my brother, William. Well technically he's my half-brother, but we grew up together. He is a pastor in Baltimore. What a killjoy he is!

Silence.

– This is the only family I have left today. It's still ironic, isn't it? A pastor.

He had a forced laugh.

– I’d give my whole realm for a church. And I will deny ever saying that. Damn, Baltimore seems like it's on the other side of the world... Do you have any sisters?

But all he could hear were his own footsteps.

– Lux?

A few meters behind him, collapsed on her knees with her head bowed, the young woman did not respond. From her lips blood wept, drop after drop onto her thighs. He screamed her name again and, in two brisk strides, was at her side, one arm encircling her shoulders as she toppled backwards, one hand in the snow.

She was at the end of the line. She had already lived well for her age, she could let go, in good company.

– What’s the point of trying to save the planet… she began.

Her voice was raspy, hoarse, full of sadness and anger at the same time.

– When we see what they make of it.

He brushed hair from her face. Her empty, dull eyes were lost in the clouds. A trace of dried blood flowed from her nostrils and her chest contracted from the lack of oxygen. She tried to open her mouth to continue, but no sound came out.

She raised an emaciated and tortured hand, trying to reassure him, to tell him that everything would be okay. He had stayed with her no matter what. He had told her jokes when melancholy had overcome her. He had given him his last crouton of dry bread when hunger ate away at his stomach. He would have preferred that she dies quickly. Her, and all the other victims of this atrociously devastating virus. He would rather have been taken in her place. She deserved to live a long happy life way more than him.

Some lucky people didn't have time to understand. The strain had been so strong and powerful that they had all collapsed in less than seven hours. Some liked to say that, seen from above, one could have witnessed the country sinking into a macabre and sinister silence from space in a few hours, after a long agony of desperate screams and callings for help. Almost three weeks after the disaster, although the flames had gone out, the damage was done and it was spreading to regions hitherto spared. Air, food, water, pollen… What should have been limited to North American borders would soon spread across the planet.

Entire families eradicated in big cities. A clean and flawless genocide. The survivors still asked themselves… “Why him and not me?” How many were there waiting for an end that did not come? How many found themselves alone after losing everything?

He himself had hoped that death would strike him quickly. Instead, they had given him a prophetic mission: to escort a correspondent journalist from Jakarta, who had arrived just days before the disaster. A committed activist covering global warming which had caused the snow to recede by half, in Canada alone. He had been impressed by her strength of character, had admired her will to act, her great ambition, her loyalty to humanity and her unfailing optimism. But she no longer had anything to do with the National Geographic reporter. Her copper complexion had faded, the whites of her dark eyes were dotted with petechiae and her hair had lost its shine. The poison traced ebony curves following the path of her veins. This still unknown disease distorted each of her features, once so beautiful and delicate.

The memory of the woman would be forever tarnished by the vision of her bruised body. He hugged her so tightly that for a moment he thought she had responded to his embrace. Against her chest, he intertwined his fingers with hers.

As dusk approached, the fir branches filtered the orange light. She no longer felt the cold. Despite everything, a pain shot through her spine, like electricity, and she tightened her eyelids in a grimace, groaning as she twisted. She gasped between tears, gasping for air, and opened her eyes to the warm, dying colors of the sun contrasting with the snow.

For a moment her voice came to him like a dark song in the distance, then his fingers finally slipped. He held them, begging her to stay with him. But her heart was no longer beating and the steam no longer escaped his lips.

No one had told him why he had survived and the others had not. This was something he would learn later. In time.

“I think people love monsters.

So when they get the chance, they want to see them.

It's people projecting their fears.

They want the reassurance that they know who the bad people are

and it's not them.

So maybe that's what it is.

We're all afraid.

And fear makes people crazy.”

― Amanda Knox

CHAPTER 1

The Shadowy Forest

– Bogdan, where is your brother?

I sigh. Vlad is a real electric battery. Oddly, he always disappears at bath time, because he knows that means bedtime and he's afraid of the dark. When he comes running, I grab him and throw him over my shoulder. He weighs his weight for his eight years. When my father's arms are full, I call my other brother, Vasile, to help him.

– Bogdan, are you listening to me? Magda calls out to me behind my back.

Sitting on the kitchen table, sheets of crumpled paper in her hands, the redhead looks at me with her blue eyes, her eyebrows furrowed. She's our neighbor, but she spends a lot of time at home.

– I’m listening to you, darling, my mother reassures her as she collects my bags. Keep on going.

– Bogdan, look at my drawing!

My youngest, Erika.

– It’s very beautiful, congratulates my mother. We're going to hang it on the fridge!

I head to the bathroom, my little brother flapping his arms behind my back.

– Bogdan, I have to return this letter in a week! Magda insists, following me. You have to help me.

– I can wash myself, protests Vlad.

I take a napkin out of the cupboard and wave my hand at Magda to continue reading.

– Bogdan, don’t you smell a weird smell? asks Vasile.

I stand up, showing off his rag from the dirty laundry bin.

– Ah, ah, very funny, he grimaces.

A proud smile appears on my lips as he leaves, growling.

– I can take care of myself, Vlad continues, crossing his arms.

I look at him all over, one eyebrow raised.

– He can take care of himself for two minutes, confirms Magda.

For many, all this fanfare would be deafening. For me, it's everyday life. I imagine that after a while, you get used to it and you no longer pay attention.

– Attached is a letter of recommendation from the Petrescu family which will support my statements, Magda reads. Due to the particularity of my situation, I had to take responsibility and learn to take responsibility for each of my decisions. Today, I am fully aware of the difficulties that await me, but will they at least be synonymous with choice and free will?

While Vlad watches the water run, I collect the laundry bin, the redhead close behind.

– In light of these facts, she continues as I fill the washing machine, I request your assistance in launching an emancipation procedure.

– Bogdan, Vasile comes back, Dad asks if it’s you who has his book of legends of Transylvania.

– On his nightstand, Magda replies. Now leave us, toad.

She shakes her head and returns to my attention:

– Okay, what do you think?

I get up with a sigh. Digesting all this information at once is a real endurance sport.

– Are you sure you want this? I insist, with a worried expression.

– Do you see another option?

– I don’t know, but that seems a bit extreme, don’t you think? Where would you go?

– Your father can admit me to the Metropolitan Circus of Bucharest as soon as the judge validates my request.

– Shouldn’t you talk to your parents about it first?

– When ? When they are passing through and have time between snores? You can see that it's useless. I'm not who they expected me to be.

– Why are you so hard on yourself?

– I'm not harsh, it's the truth, they never wanted to have a child, I'm just a coincidence with poor timing.

– I think you’re exaggerating, I said, returning to Vlad in the bathroom.

This one is still dressed.

– Bogdan, there’s a really weird smell!

– Go, I don't feel anything, everything is fine.

– I'm not exaggerating, Magda protests, with a hint of sadness in her voice. I need to know if you support me or not.

– Of course, I do ! I will always be there for you. Me, my father, my mother... No one in the village will let you down. Whatever happens, you will have a home with us.

– Yes, but will you stay with me?

I sense the trick question. I don't really approve of her choice, even though I understand it. Magda has been left to her own devices for so long that some people take us for brother and sister. God forbid it doesn't. But I am close to my family, this process of emancipation sends shivers down my spine. I'm worried she'll regret it one day.

I want to support her, yes, she has always been there when I needed her, she helps me at home. She is a sister to my younger siblings. Despite her situation, Magda never complained, which is why this sudden determination to live on her own catches me off guard, but does not surprise me.

Still, this is all extreme. And will I stay with her? This is a very big question. I can't promise to always be there. If she leaves, does that mean I have to follow her? I can't leave my family.

I open my mouth to try a response that would get me out of this predicament when my father's yelling interrupts me:

– BOGDAN!

Magda and I frown, turning our heads away. His voice is strange. This is the first time I've heard him so panicked.

– We are here, I shout, everything is going-

I don't have time to finish my sentence before he bursts into the hallway and throws Erika into my arms.

– Gather your brothers and leave this place. Right away !

– What ? But…

– Come on ! he says, pushing me towards the exit. Martin is with Tibor. You will meet them in the forest.

Little by little, anxiety builds within me. I've never seen him like that. Without further discussion, Magda takes Vlad with her, Vasile close behind. I am about to follow in their footsteps when my father stops me. His face is so close to mine that our noses brush.

– Listen to me carefully.

– Where is Mama?

– She prepares a bag.

– Dad, you’re scaring me, I say, out of breath.

– Everything is true.

– What ? What is happening !

– All my stories, everything is true. Never forget it. Never be surprised, monsters exist, but they will not always be your enemies. You hear me ?

– Y-yes…, I say, hesitant.

– Monsters are not necessarily what we think they are. Remember that.

I purse my lips as I nod. Erika hugs my neck, sobbing.

– But, I repeat, these are only legends that you invent and improvise! Not true?

– Not always, son.

Vasile calls me again, but his voice is drowned out by the sound of a helicopter. We look up at the ceiling, as if we could see the sky through it.

– Come on, go! Dad pushes me.

– What is happening ? Dad !

– Later. Take everyone to safety, I'll meet you in the forest!

Vasile at the head of the line, we leave the house.

Southwestern Romania

July 20, 2061

I was sixteen when they came for us.

I am getting ready to celebrate my birthday with my family and friends in our village, located quite far from civilization, in the west of the country. Although we are nomads for a good part of the year, we always return home at this time. The rest of the time, we circulate, we move from town to town with a mini circus of farm animals and we amaze our visitors with the acrobatics of some, the magic tricks of others. But when we are here, in the shadow of this immense forest, we find ourselves. And there is nothing more important to us than being together.

But everything changed that night. The sky turned an ominous red. Tonight, dusk does not herald the end of a long day, nor the hope of the one to come, but the beginning of a horrible nightmare. I had never heard such screams before. Everyone is running in all directions, looking for their loved ones. Some are stopped in their tracks by soldiers. They wear khaki green uniforms and carry terrifying weapons, but I don't recognize the embroidered flag on their shoulders.

Where do they come from? What do they want?

Trying to protect us, our fathers are severely beaten. Magda holds my sister at arm's length and my mother pulls my two brothers in an awkward run as we try to escape. We were never prepared for such an assault. The forest is both within reach and yet so far away. So many obstacles stand in the way.

My mother is violently hit in the head and I intervene. In response, I take a punch to the face which makes me take a few steps back.

– You…, cries Magda, throwing herself at them.

But she receives the same welcome as me and finds herself face down in the grass.

– Please, my mother screams, crying, don’t hurt my children!

It's the first time I've taken a hit, I didn't think I'd see so many stars. I shake my head, staggering a little. We stand up to face the barrel of a gun. I stare at her, eyes wide, and raise my hands:

– No, no, wait!

The man pulls and I feel a strong heat in my chest. I'm out of breath. A dart is stuck in my chest.

Magda roars, ready to fight, but soldiers grab her by the shoulders to control her and force something into her neck.

My vision is failing, I try to fight sleep. Stars dance in front of my face again and confuse my brain, but it's no punch. Shivers run down my neck to my lower back and I stagger.

Soon my legs gave out. They slip away and I fall to my knees. A few seconds later, I can't move. I continue to struggle with fainting. The last thing I see is Vasile, held firmly on the ground, calling out for me.

And then, darkness swallows me up.

CHAPTER 2

Dawning of an Endless Night

– Bogdan!

I wake up with a start, raising my fist sharply in front of my face, as much to protect myself as to retaliate. Long hair obscures my vision, but I recognize Irina. I stand up, my heart still racing, but a sharp pain against my temples forces me to slow my movement.

I rub the back of my neck while leaning on the ground, covered in a strange texture. I look down at a wood eaten away by dirt, sticky with grease. I quickly withdraw my hand with a grimace of disgust.

Judging by the steady sound of the wheels on the tracks, I'm on a train. And it drives fast.

– Where are we? I ask.

– I don’t know, Irina replies, looking worried. But it's still dark.

She shakes her head.

– I can't wake him up.

The young girl pulls my sleeve and I come painfully back to reality with a violent urge to scream and cry like a newborn. Everything is so dark, I can barely see.

Irina leads me to a still body. My head is upside down and my mind is foggy. It takes me a few seconds before I recognize this wacky blond mop of hair and this face carved in stone. Something catches my eye despite the darkness, I frown, gently brushing a strand of hair from his forehead. A trickle of dried blood contrasts with the clarity of her hair.

– Well, go ahead, wake him up! Irina says impatiently.

I shake his shoulder.

– Tibor.

No reaction, he looks like a rag doll.

– Hit him !

I slowly look up at Irina.

– What ?! I protest. No, you, hit him!

– He’s your best friend!

– Exactly ! Why would I hit him?

– I don’t hit boys.

I remain silent for a few seconds before responding.

– Did you just wake me up with slaps or did I just dream it?

She blinks, feigning innocence.

– Well, if he retaliates, your head is harder than me.

I sigh and turn my attention back to Tibor. At least he's breathing. I give him a few friendly slaps on the jaw, to no avail.

I quickly look around us. Other children and adolescents emerge, including Vasile who stands up, rubbing his arm, but I see neither my mother nor my sister.

– Are you okay? I ask.

Without answering a word, he nods. I shake Tibor more vigorously.

– Wake up !

I try the slap myself. Finally, he slowly opens his eyelids. I place my hand on his shoulder as he grimaces at his injury and Irina helps him sit back down.

– Gently, she accompanies him, you were hit on the head.

He growls like a bear, his face tense. I raise my index finger under his nose:

– How many fingers do I have?

– One, he replies with a dark look.

His voice is hoarse, as if he hasn't drunk or spoken in days.

– What's your name ? I continue.

– Tibor.

– And your father ?

– Martin.

– How old are you ?

– Almost 18, he said after a moment of reflection. Like how many loud slaps I'm going to give you if you continue to take me for an idiot.

– Have you seen mine? I ask.

– Your father ?

– Yes, he told us to meet you in the forest.

Tibor shakes his head.

– OK, it doesn’t matter, he must have stayed behind with my mother.

– Sorry.

He closes his eyes again while massaging his head.

– It’s okay. I'm sure they're fine.

Despite everything, my heart is heavy and Irina places a hand on my shoulder. I leave them to take a tour of the owner. The wagon is rather large and poorly insulated. It looks like a freight train, the sliding doors are protected by sturdy bars and on one side there are crates stacked with sandbags and moldy cardboard boxes. I don't yet realize what's happening, it's too unclear. My sister is missing. Where is she, was someone trying to kidnap her too, did she succumb to her attackers? My parents must be devastated...

Vlad starts crying as soon as he wakes up. I hold him against me and rock him to soothe him. Vasile is much quieter. He broods over his rage, arms around his knees and staring at a point on the wall of the train.

Sitting on the ground, Magda observes me attentively. Her light eyes are like two headlights on her filthy face and she has dirt under her nails. I take it she fought like hell. That doesn't surprise me about her. My grandfather had this expression which illustrates it very well: big mouth, big character. Magda was looking for emancipation. She finally got what she wanted.

In total, there are nine of us, from eight to eighteen years old. Besides us, there is Lars, Irina's twin. If she is thin and slender, he is a robust guy. He is as blond as her and takes care of the last one, Andrea, a little plump guy no older than Vlad, who keeps asking where he is. Patience is not Lars' strong point, but he tries to remain calm. This time it's not an adventure like one of my father's tales.

What is happening to us is very real.

The train runs for hours without stopping. In this day and age, I find it crazy that cans like this still exist. It makes an incredible racket, each of my muscles vibrates with the roar and we are shaken like common merchandise. Whoever our kidnappers were, the budget for their package was not high.

Lars rushes into the wall of the train, shoulder first. What is he hoping for to happen? What if it overturns and us with it? We have a better chance of surviving by remaining calm than by causing an accident. I frown as he tries a second time.

– It’s no use, I say, following him with my eyes as his gaze glares at me on the spot.

– You know what, have you tried?

I don't see the connection and shrug my shoulders:

– No.

– Then shut up.

He barely cuts me off, as if this was exactly the response he expected from me. He probably thinks I'm a coward, sitting idly by while our fate is decided. I look down and he puts the train's strength to the test again. In vain.

– Lars, that’s enough! Irina exclaims.

She points to the others with a gesture of her chin. In other words, my brothers, Andrea and me.

– You’re scaring them, she adds.

Lars turns towards us and puffs out his chest, continuing in a deep voice:

– They better be afraid! We don't know where we're going, what we're doing here and even less why!

– Lars.

– They killed our parents because they intervened, I'm not going to stay here, as if it was useless !

A knot forms in my stomach. Vlad sobs again.

– We must defend ourselves!

Lars is determined, I give him that.

– I don’t know how to fight, I say in a small voice.

At first he says nothing and stares at me.

– No shit, he quips.

I grit my teeth. I then notice something in his expression that I can't describe. I don't know if he's softening or hardening.

– I saw how your father took one down. If it's not genetic, it's a shame, for once you could have been of some use to us...

– That’s enough, orders Tibor. You're not helping.

We are on the train to hell with no idea of the destination or the reasons that justify our captivity. I would like to say something, but I can't. Lars' vehemence deprives me of all my means. I pull Vlad closer to me, keeping an eye on the door.

The wagon is so archaic that light from outside seeps through the body's seams. The day reveals a wall of crates and bulky items rising in the background. The first ones were too sturdy to open and the second ones were too sticky to use. But some of us perch high up to avoid direct contact with the ground and try to get some rest. I don't know what time it is, but I'm not tired anyway. I already tried to close my eyes while my brother calmed down, without success. It's been hours now since we left, and I'm starting to despair of feeling the sun's rays warm my face again. Irina sits down next to me and wraps her arms around her knees to play with her nails.

– I was wondering, what is your favorite color?

I smile softly.

– Is that all that comes to mind right now? My favorite color?

She shrugs one shoulder.

– Green, I respond in a small voice, as if I were ashamed to talk about such trivial things when we don't know how much time we have left to live.

– Like what ? she asks.

– Like the forest. The one surrounding the village has particular reflections. And you ?

– Electric purple.

I smile.

– Electric purple, is that even a color?

– Yes, you never paid attention? Mushrooms are phosphorescent. They glow an electric mauve that tends towards turquoise.

Faced with my amused expression, Irina blushes and lowers her head, laughing.

– You’re mocking me..

– No, no, never, I find that… Interesting.

– Interesting, yet stupid !

– No it's…

I look at her smiling, searching for words. My lips stretch even more.

– A pretty color.

– Yes, THANK YOU!

Magda sighs and gets up. As she approaches Lars to study the sliding door of the train, the latter brakes abruptly and they both almost fall. She barely catches herself at a crate and grimaces in pain as she hits her hip. Lars listens, my brothers straighten up, Irina gets up and Tibor cranes his neck to try to hear something. On the lookout for the slightest sound or the slightest clue that would tell us where we are, we wait.

– This way !

Vasile spotted something behind Magda. It shifts and he climbs the bulky objects, pushing them until he finds a hole in the wall. After greedily inhaling the fresh air, he sticks his eye into this makeshift loophole.

– SO ? asks the redhead.

We moved closer, jostling each other, but my brother didn't decide to give up his place. We are champing at the bit while we wait.

– Soldiers, he finally says.

– What is their uniform like? wonders Irina.

Vasile squirms.

– Hard to say. Brown ?

Tibor stops beside me.

– They wear helmets, Vas’ continues. I count ten, maybe twelve. They have weapons.

I try to think by rehashing all the events again, looking for something useful in them. My fanciful mind visits all the most marginal hypotheses. I go from Doctor Parnassus' Imaginarium to Battle Royale to all the Brothers Grimm tales involving an old woman or just a witch with a questionable colored apple. I have not reached any satisfactory conclusion.

– There are others, Vasile continues.

– What others?

– Like us. They’re bringing other children up.

Vasile doesn't seem keen to give up his place of choice.

– Do you see a symbol on the uniforms?

– Yes, uh... It looks like a big silver star with smaller ones around it on a red rectangle.

– It doesn’t look like any flag I know, comments Irina.

Tibor is deep in thought, and turns to me.

– Your aunt.

A moment of perplexity undermines the gravity of the moment. I can't help but giggle.

– What about her?

– The last time we went to pick her up at the airport, remember?

I still don't see where he's going with this.

– No...

– She mentioned soldiers whose uniforms she had never seen, who wandered around and looked at people strangely. She had heard them speaking with an oriental accent, but she didn't know the language.

When it comes to me, I nod slowly.

– Where was your aunt? Tibor continues.

– She was returning from Moscow.

Vasile shows the outside of his thumb, raising his eyebrows.

– There are hieroglyphs on the wall.

– What?! I choke.

– You know, the weird Russian letters.

– It’s Cyrillic, Vas’!

Tibor pushes my brother to take his place.

– It’s a border crossing, he describes. It says “Intersector 4”.

– What is an Intersector? Magda asks. What does it mean ?

Tibor stands up and turns towards us.

– That we are now in Russia.

Vlad sobs beside me and I wrap my arm around his shoulders to reassure him:

– Everything will be alright.

– How will everything be okay?

Lars approaches me, his gaze menacing, full of anger. In fact, I take a step back because I don't want to become his punching bag.

– Lars, calls Irina.

– Go ahead, tell me how everything will go well!

I frown and stare at him. Magda crosses her arms to observe the spectacle. Irina, for her part, stands ready to intervene. Helpless, I let Lars unleash his diatribe on me, Vlad hidden behind my back.

– We are sequestered on a train guarded by an army of madmen! No one can tell us where we're going! No one answers when we call! I don't know about you, but I'm sick, I'm dying of cold and I'm having trouble breathing! Not to mention hygiene! So, go ahead, little genius, shine a light, we’re listening to you!

– I don’t know, okay?! I exclaim.

This time he is silent. I don't know why he expects me to have all the answers, but I do the best I can to hold on, to keep my head afloat. I breathe in the silence, then I continue:

– If you think that it enchants me more than you, you are wrong! But acting like a big thick bully to hide your panic and getting angry at walls won't be of any help to anyone.

I struck a chord. He lunges at me and I take two steps back, my brother with me. I'm convinced that Lars is about to punch me just to clear his nerves, I see him clenching his fists. But Tibor intervenes, out of nowhere, with a proud chin. I always admired his confidence. If Lars has all the facial expressions of frustration, anger and a certain deviousness, Tibor has a cold and emotionless face. Lars breaks the ice first:

– Do you want your share too, weakling? That's good, I have a score to settle with you. I'm tired of seeing you fidgeting around my sister.

For a long time, the people of the village looked upon Tibor and his father as birds of ill omen. We have to admit that we don't like foreigners very much. But Martin was a friend of my aunt, so when he asked for help after his wife died, my father asked him to join us. At first, it seemed strange to me, but since I have a strong contradictory spirit, the more the others grumbled about their presence, the more I wanted to be with them. Like Irina! She didn't care about these prejudices, she rather saw it as an opportunity to make new friends. And the more Tibor was hateful to her, the closer she got to him. Which was never to Lars' taste, of course.

Tibor remains impassive in the face of the accusation, except for his perplexed eyebrow.

– What, you’re jealous because she’s sexier than you? he provokes.

I forgot... He's a nasty hothead. A mischievous half-smile stretches across his lips. If I don't know how to fight, he does. As Lars raises his fist, Magda dissuades him by waving a hand to get our attention.

– Shh! Someone comes !

She had taken Vasile's place at the observatory and in three seconds, she joined us. We don't have time to find a harmless position before the door opens to reveal two armed soldiers. They throw one bag at us, then another, without even looking at us. Lars tries to grab one, but all he gets is a blow to the nose with the rifle butt. I wince at the sound of bones being crushed as he screams, bringing his hands to his face. The door closes on Tibor who was also thinking of trying his luck and Irina rushes towards her twin. Instinctively, I spread my arms to protect the youngest and Magda behind my back. Tibor hits a wall, but no one answers. In frustration, he bangs on the door with a cry of rage.

In all this chaos, Andrea opens a bag and gloriously holds up a loaf of bread and a bottle of water.

– Look what I found!

His joy gradually dissipates as he stares at us all. Among us there are the hungry, the thirsty, the injured. I myself stare hungrily at the child and wonder which of us will pounce on him first. We don't know how long we will be on this train and what we will be entitled to once we arrive at our destination. I can't let them waste this food, even though I can already sense from here that it's only good for the sparrows.

Two or three seconds pass before Irina takes the lead. I'm surprised, I would have thought Lars would have been the most aggressive. Magda in turn throws herself into the battle to prevent the blonde from appropriating the goods.

Andrea joins Vlad behind my back while Magda pulls the bag towards her, pushing Irina with one foot on her stomach. I jump on Magda to bring her back with me, and Tibor imitates me with Irina who has released her claws in the meantime.

– No one made you responsible for the food! shouts Irina.

– I don’t think I saw your name on it either! Let go of me!

I hold Magda close to me as the train starts again. She foams like a draft horse and I can imagine her murderous gaze which has nothing to envy of Irina in front of me. She gets rid of Tibor with an elbow and moves away with a huff, pulling her hair back to give herself some composure. Magda struggles, but I only let go of her when I have managed to take the bag from her. We all have strong characters, but I am the only one who has kept a cool head, until now.

– She's right ! Lars agrees to defend his sister. No one put you in charge of food.

In good faith, I raise my hands to present the loot.

– It doesn’t weigh much and there are many of us. I suggest giving a bigger share to the youngest.

– I suggest that I'm no less starving than your brothers, acrobat.

I don't react. He is far from affecting me. Tibor is silent, but he stays close to me.

– Perhaps, I repeat, but they need more strength than you. We must protect them.

– And then what?

– And then we defend ourselves.

– I don’t hit on an empty stomach, Lars grumbles.

– Well, you will make an effort! Tibor replies, raising his voice.

At the end of arguments, Lars takes a step back. I take advantage of this lull to continue in a more confident voice:

– How long have we lived together? Eh? All our lives.

Lars can't help but add more by pointing an inquisitive finger at Tibor.

– Except for that chalk face.

I'm starting to lose my patience. I jerk his hand away from his wrist.

– This rascal is as much a part of my family as of yours.

– What a shame.

– We're not going to struggle for a piece of bread!

– We have to stay united, continues Tibor. They must not divide us.

Even knowing that Lars won't listen to me, I insist:

– We need each other to get off this train.

– I don’t need anyone, no more than your dickheads.

Tibor is now threatening and raises his voice.

– If you don't stop whining like a sick dog, one of these guys is going to put lead in your head, is that what you want?

Magda in turn takes a step alongside Tibor to face Lars with a smirk.

– I confirm, she adds. I saw their weapons, there's enough to make a head full of them.

Lars starts again quickly. And here we go again... screams. It's getting annoying, but Irina stops her brother from teaching a lesson to the other two who, after all, are smart enough not to engage more. Tibor tries to reason with him one last time:

– We must stay together. We'll ration ourselves, keep warm at night, and look for a way out of here. Altogether! No matter what they want from us, we won't let them take it without a fight! Alright?

For once, it is a speech to which Lars strongly agrees.

– Yeah!

I didn't say he had a big vocabulary...

By the time we find a compromise, it will at least have had the merit of keeping us busy. We distribute one more piece of bread to the youngest. With a tight stomach, I give Vlad my share and settle for an extra sip of water. I'm starving, but I can't eat and by the looks of it, it doesn't look very tasty anyway. No surprise there, though.

Despite everything, this calms the troop. Vlad sits on my lap, imitated by Andrea, Vasile leans against me and very quickly, they fall asleep. At last. I tilt my head back. I'm on edge, much more than I thought. I sigh and close my eyes for a few moments.

Vasile wakes me up by shaking my shoulder. Everything hurts like hell and I wince while rubbing the back of my neck. How could I have slept in such a position? I can barely feel my buttocks because they are so numb. My brother gestures to the others with a nod.

– They heard a noise behind the crates, he tells me.

The more Tibor and Lars push these to free them, at the cost of a superhuman effort, the more we discover a breakthrough.

– Our wagon is bigger than I thought, Vasile is surprised.

– Did you think we were traveling first class in a VIP room?

He doesn't really appreciate my humor. His face even remains impassive. I stand up with difficulty, my legs heavy.

– No, it’s a freight train. And we are the cattle.

Through the gap, a hand moves with nervous laughter. Tibor being in the front row, he tries to establish contact. That said, the girl's flow of words borders on migraine. It's Italian. From what he can see, there is at least one girl and one boy, but there are probably more. At this speed, between the hubbub of the rails and his high-pitched voice, I couldn't catch a single word. Tibor is no more advanced than me and uses gestures to communicate. In all this gibberish, we understand that their names are Maren and Italo, and that they don't know what they're doing there either. The girl must be my age and looks completely scared. I see her trembling and the dark complexion of her face is marked by the tears that have made their way through the dirt. Tibor reaches into the small space to take hers.

– Everything will be fine, he told her in a firm and confident voice.

Maren does not need translation to understand these simple reassuring words. She squeezes Tibor's fingertips and holds on as best she can. I exchange a look with Magda. Our friend is not really a very tactile person, he never was. At first glance, he is a cold and distant boy with sometimes excessive and unpredictable reactions. However, when you try to get to know him, he is a great joker. It's funny, I never imagined him playing the role of protector.

During the rest of the trip, I take a look at each of us. I think about what binds us and differentiates us, what makes them take us and not the others, but I don't find anything very significant.

Irina is blonde with a hooked nose and brown eyes that I have difficulty seeing in the night. Magda is a little stockier, with light blue eyes and thin lips, a round face and fiery hair to match her strong character. On the boys' side, Tibor is the only blond one besides Lars, and his hair is completely shaggy. He is of Norwegian origin and his mother was Russian, from what I know. My brothers and I are brown with green eyes, but the others have brown or blue eyes.

At first glance, we have nothing in common other than the place we come from. To understand, unfortunately I have to wait some more.

We are confined in this uncomfortable wagon for several days. I prefer to skip over the everyday details. Let’s just say we got to know each other better.

The journey seems to last forever. Some crates gave way under Lars' blows, but none revealed anything useful. The majority were empty despite their significant weight. Tibor's fingers are red and scratched from trying to open the one he fell asleep on. With its wrought iron frames, it withstood the violent shocks exerted by Lars' muscular shoulders. Also, Tibor tried the gentle way by unscrewing each bolt, with his bare hands. In vain. Lars was unable to enlarge the breakthrough through the crates, they being far too heavy and bulky. We are so cold that we no longer know the difference between our own tremors and those caused by the train whose frantic race has not slowed down since its last stop, two days earlier.

– Do you think we are being punished? Irina suddenly asks me in a whisper.

She observes Tibor in silence with a melancholy look to the rhythm of the tumult of the wagon. I imitate her for a second before returning my attention to her.

– For what ?

– Or tested.

– I don’t think so, no.

– The law of the strongest. Only the bravest and most courageous will survive.

Her eyes don't leave Tibor’s sight. I let my head fall back against the wall of the train and sigh.

– No, I think that you and your brother have seen too many American movies and that it got to your heads.

– What we do with our lives does not determine who we are, but defines how we deserve to die.

Her words make my blood run cold. I look down at her, still thoughtful.

– Who told you such a thing?

After a short silence, she replied, grimly:

– His father.

I stare at Tibor and a wave of sorrow churns through my stomach.

– And I deserve better than dying like a mangy dog in this cage.

Lars jumps from a crate he's been sitting on for hours.

– It’s slowing down, he warns us.

Irina leans on the ground to get up. The general movement wakes Tibor who in turn informs the Italians, before joining us.

The younger ones stick to me, even if Vasile has his gaze fixed on the door. Irina and Lars are ready to fight body and soul to defend themselves and Magda intervenes with Tibor between the elders and me. They are hungry for a fight.

The twins chose their weapons: a poorly cut plank of wood with frayed, razor-sharp points like a multitude of razor blades, and a crowbar. He’s got heavy muscles, yet he’s quick. The large door slides and they roar, animated by a lion's heart, making our attackers step back in surprise. And they don't give up. We try to block them, to control them, but they return blow for blow, as if they have been doing this all their lives. Tibor and Magda join the battle. They knock two of the soldiers to the ground and then I hear screams. We are not the only ones rebelling. Or some take their example. The other teenagers that my brother had seen were pulled out of the neighboring cars. It’s full chaos. We hit, we scream, we knock people... At this moment, I feel safer on the train than outside.

When reinforcements arrive, the recalcitrants bend under the blows, weakened by the journey. They are mistreated, they are hit and I sink further and further into the background. My heart races at the thought of being next in line. My cadets become tiny, cornered behind me. Even Vasile, despite the murderous glint in his eyes, hides behind my back. They are counting on me, but I am immobilized by fear.

Tibor defends himself tooth and nail, proving to be a valiant fighter, and even when Magda is down, I’m convinced he can escape. It's a blow to the knees that makes him bend and four of them try to keep him on the ground. With Tibor and Magda, they take on board the Italians, including Maren, whom I recognize by her thick curly hair framing her head. The latter screams when she sees Tibor grunting, but she can't do anything, they hold him firmly. And now they're coming for me. It's me they turn to. My heart stops beating.

Two of them approach me, they have scratches all over their faces and one of them has a bloody nose. They are suspicious, we are harmless, but we are scared, which makes us unpredictable. Others wait behind to prevent the little ones from running away. The twins, Tibor and Magda have cleared the way for me, now it is my turn to show what I am capable of. I think about Irina's last words. I'm terrified, but I don't want to die without a fight. I'm a big brother and I have to live up to it, I can't abandon them. I have to defend myself. For them. Protecting them is my duty. My one and only mission.

Suddenly, I roar and engage.

My fist crashes into his sternum and knocks his breath away for a second, leaving the other to swing his baton into my ribs. The first traps me in his arms, but I crush his foot and bite the edge of his hand as hard as possible before sending my knee into the second's crotch. Soldiers intervene to control me. I'm flattered. I reproduce the attacks that Tibor used. My forehead kisses the guy's nose to get him to let me go, but my ankles are grabbed and I capsize onto my back. My heart skips a beat as my head hits the ground and I groan in pain as stars dance before my eyes. It's my turn to get crushed and I hear my brothers screaming to leave me alone. Our executioners don't speak our language, but I don't think it would have made any difference if they had.

I abdicate.

They hold me tight and I nearly trip several times as they push me forward. My eye is already so swollen that I have difficulty making out their faces in the shadow of their caps.

In front of me are lined up many military trucks into which the other children are put. I shift my shoulders while looking for my brothers.

At the same time, one of the soldiers let go of my arm to cock his rifle and aim at someone. One of the kids managed to free himself and ran off at full speed. The man does not hesitate and shoots him in the back. The small body collapses as the sinister detonation still resonates.

There followed long seconds of stupefaction during which I no longer breathed. I'm white as a sheet, my eyes are wide and I suddenly want to vomit.

I swallow as the other soldier gets angry. Even without understanding what they are saying, it is clear that there is a difference of opinion.

– Bogdan! calls Vlad when he finally sees me.

My little brother took advantage of the general astonishment to free himself and run towards me. But immediately, a rifle stands in front of him. Without thinking, I intervene by raising my hands.

– No, don’t shoot! I scream.

I squint at the cannon pointed at me. In a split second, my life flashes before me, I have never seen death so closely. If he kills us both, my intervention will only have been more stupid and useless... But there was no way Vlad would end up like this kid.

– He’s my brother!

The soldier stares at me with the firm intention of pulling the trigger. His colleague is visibly trying to reason with him in turn with large, abrupt gestures, so he hesitates. They may not know our language, but I don't understand a word of what they say either. Which makes the negotiations a little complex.

– It’s okay, we’ll be quiet! We follow you, okay?

I take Vlad's hand to bring him back to me.

– We’re coming…

And on my own, I move forward, holding my brother close to me. The soldier doesn't lower his weapon, he uses it to show me the way, barking orders in his booming voice. With my head on my shoulders, I obey and get into the truck to join other children and teenagers, crowded together, injured, in shock. The soldier hops on too.

The doors close on me. Sitting on a bench attached to the metal wall, my thigh touches the gun on the side of me. I look up at him as he positions his rifle against his chest. If we are in Russia, there are a lot of Asians. This one's skin is more matte than the others. But maybe it's the light. He is as menacing as his compatriots. Sensing my gaze, he now stares at me and grimaces while muttering something that I would translate as “Do you want my picture?” I shake my head mechanically and look down, holding Vlad a little closer to me, my arm around his shoulders.

The road is bumpy, generating an infernal noise even worse than the train. I hear the axles grinding beneath our feet. Where are we being taken now?

I don't know where the others are and that terrifies me more than anything.

A large, sharp lump forms in my throat and I purse my lips, clinging tightly to my little brother.

All I know is how far I am from home. And this nightmare has only just begun.

CHAPTER 3

Muma Pādurii

The truck eventually stops. I feel like I've been in this moving cage for months. My legs still shiver and shake from the tumult on rocky terrain. My brother jumps up after dozing off.

The door opens and the two soldiers who were “guarding” us jump to the ground. We all stand there, staring at them. They are watching us, probably waiting for one of us to give them a good reason to shoot.

Finally, one of them orders us to get off, continuing to encourage us to move faster.

Once on the ground, my feet sink into a few centimeters of snow mixed with muddy earth. Without wasting any time, I reach out to my brother to help him.

The cold burns my eyes and freezes the ends of my hair instantly. Or that's what I imagine. Under my sweater, I have goosebumps and a shiver runs down my back. Snow covers the mountains as far as the eye can see. A huge building resembling an old castle stands out from the landscape... Or is it a prison?

I don't know if I would be able to tell the difference. I have the uncomfortable feeling of seeing in black and white. Even the soldiers fade into shades of gray. The only touch of color that finally appeals to me is the blood on teenager faces. And again, it is dried. When I feel a gun at my back pushing me, I move forward, docile. I don't want to taste the kindness of home again.

After a macabre march, we were thrown into cells. At the top, in the back, there is a loophole which lets in fresh air. It's summer, but it already almost feels like winter. There are only three of us.

On either side of our new cage, the walls are concrete, but in places they are in poor condition with holes revealing the foundation framework. I wonder who had enough strength to damage something like that. When I see scratches streaking the walls, just imagining what happened here makes my blood run cold. Around us, people cry and scream, while others remain silent.

Along with my brother and I, there is Irina. She too struggles, screams, threatens them all, openly insults them. She wears her nails on the walls. As for me, I learned my lesson well, so I stay in my corner.

I don't have the strength to call our neighbors, I'm afraid that Vasile won't answer or any other.

– Hey big lemon puffers! I know you can hear me! I know you’re there!

Irina grabs the bars of our cell and tries to shake them to get noticed.

– I'm starving, do you understand what I'm saying?

– No, Irina, I sigh. And I doubt they'll care, anyway.

She ends up giving up with a weary air. She had been screaming for hours and I was starting to have a headache. Some people complain about her. The only voice I recognized in this whole melee was Lars, but it had been several long minutes since he last uttered a word. Irina is also getting exhausted. At last. Her armor is cracking. She turns around and looks at me with despair. She's tried everything, to no avail, no one wants to hear it.

My brother is shaking, as much from the cold as from fear. After a moment, Irina drops down beside me and takes refuge against me. I watch her do it with a bewildered look, my eyebrows raised in surprise, despite my fatigue. She places her head on my shoulder, then wraps her arms around my waist. We remain like this for a moment in silence.

– Everything will be fine, I say, optimistically. It will be okay.

– You always say that, murmurs Vlad, and then it gets worse.

I look down at him:

– Oh yeah?

– Do you remember the last time you said that? Irina continues, her nose buried in my sweater. It snowed continuously for seven days and six nights. It was the biggest storm we had ever seen in the village.

– Oh.

– It was the biggest snow in the world!

My eyes dart from one to the other as they converse without paying attention to me. They must be cold because they are tightening up even more to keep warm. From the outside, we look like three small animals crowded into the corner of a cage.

After a while, Vlad falls asleep. I don't think it's a restful sleep, but it must be much more peaceful than this frozen cell. It's dark and I'm tired myself. If I close my eyes, it is in the hope of doing the same, of escaping far from here. Maybe I'll even wake up somewhere else, in the real world, with my parents, like in a fiction novel or a story. My story would end when I found my way home.

Except nothing happens.

Sleep doesn't win me over. I take a deep breath and sigh longly.

Everything is so peaceful, I only hear the sound of drops of water. We are plunged into darkness with the only light being a faint flash of moonlight thanks to the loophole. A lump forms in the hollow of my throat and I purse my lips as I swallow. Something threatens to explode inside me.

I won't wake up anywhere else, I have no idea where I am, or what will happen to me. I feel terribly alone and I don't know what I should do, let alone how. I sniff softly and go to rub my nose when a hand passes over my stomach. Irina. She barely moved against me, staring into space. I suspect she is wondering the same as me.

Her arm imprisons me a little more every second. I have a chill again, but it's not because of the cold. Gently, Irina intertwines her fingers with mine and I stand there, observing her gesture without saying anything. What does that mean ? What is she trying to tell me? How should I respond, what should I do? What is she doing ?

My heart is beating harder and harder. Her thumb runs along the lines of my palm to my wrist. My gaze meets hers before wandering over the features of his face. Irina is nowhere near as pretty as Magda, but I find her all the more attractive. She has this little scar on her cheekbone, the result of a fall during a performance, which gives her even more charm. Irina fascinates me. The village is the embodiment of peace, I have often wondered where this warlike character, inclined to fight, comes from. Yet, at this moment, she is the sweetest thing I have ever knew.

I gently remove a lock of her blond hair that was blocking her face and she closes her eyes, resting her head in the palm of my hand. Our foreheads meet. Her nose brushes against mine in an unexpected caress. I have always known her to be so energetic, dynamic, mocking and mischievous that this new side of her impresses me even more. Under her rebel armor hides such a tender girl. My heart races as she brushes her fingertips over my cheek. I can feel her breath against my skin.

I am frozen in a space-time over which I have no control. This proximity should make me uncomfortable, but it's actually quite the opposite.

Her hands slide to my neck and I remain speechless. I want to answer it, but I have to admit, I have no idea how to go about it. Still, it doesn't deter her as her fingers grip my collar. My own breathing quickens and it's my turn to play with her nose. What if it was just a dream? When I wake up, will she still be there? Will she always think of me? Will I feel this warmth in my chest again, reassuring and soft? I would like this moment to last forever, to keep her close to me for as long as I have left to live.

I slowly slide my fingers through her hair to pull her closer to me. I no longer feel the biting cold on my back. Irina's face against mine, I am in a comfortable, safe cocoon. And, when her lips finally find mines, I am transported to another world and all my senses awaken for the first time in my life.

My hand traps her against my chest. I don't know if it's my imagination, but a familiar smell, of wood and leaves, emanates from Irina and I feel like I'm far away from all this hell, back home. My kiss becomes more eager second by second and she responds with equal ardor. My heart thumps against her chest as a consuming hunger grows within me. Her fingers grip the back of my neck forcefully. She clings as if she fears I will disappear. My lips united with her, I miss breathing.

My brother fidgets on my legs, pulling me out of my trance. Out of modesty, as much as out of surprise, I quickly break away from Irina's embrace to watch Vlad settle back into a ball against my thigh. He opens his eyes to us and frowns. She buries her nose in my neck and hides to laugh. As for me, my cheeks are red. Fortunately, it's dark. Vlad rolls balls and closes them again, without worrying about us. I can't suppress a shy smile when Irina finds my lips again.

Eventually, I fall asleep like a lump, without seeing it coming. Vlad and Irina keep me warm. I hold her in my arm, her head nestled in the crook of my shoulder. Ultimately, of the three, I am the best settled. I fade into a world of darkness, without dreams or rest. I barely feel Irina moving and getting up in the early morning.

– Hey, rednecks, I'm hungry!

I jump when I hear a knock against the bars. I open my eyes, still full of sleep, wide to see her getting angry on our cage, screaming. Obviously, the night fulled her up with energy. I already know it's a bad sign. Vlad follows me as I stand up, grimacing from the aches.

– You hear me ? Irina continues loudly.

She alerts the others until someone gets carried away in a foreign language, but I don't know if it's to side with Irina or to tell her to shut up. I hesitate. I lean towards the second option.

– You know what ? I'm so mad that if I could, I'd eat you steak tartare! But I'm too afraid of being poisoned so I'll just roast you in front of your mothers!

I give a faint smile. Her overactive imagination would surely amuse me in other circumstances, but here, she's mostly going to get into trouble. Again. And when we talk about the wolf, we see its tail. I hear the hallway door open and footsteps approaching.

– It’s not a shame, I almost waited. Did you bring ketchup? I could swallow three wild boars whole and the carcass with it.

With one hand, I encourage Irina to step back a little, warning her.

– Definitely not a good idea, I whisper to her.

There are three of them and they stop in front of our cell. I notice that one of them is wearing a slightly different uniform than the ones I've seen so far. His stature, his posture, he reminds me of a head of state. Additionally, there are patches on his shoulders where the other two soldiers next to him have nothing. He is very tall with a broad build and a straight back. He's as white as a buttock, and I frown when his almond-shaped eyes meet mine. Perhaps he wonders if I am a significant danger or a potential ally.

– Hello to you, too, Irina continues with a huge smile. How are you ? GOOD ?

The man nods, uttering incomprehensible words in a soft voice and encourages his two minions to open our cell with a gesture.

I squeeze Irina's arm in my hand to pull her back towards me, but she resists. One of the soldiers approaches her, the other towards me. Nothing good can come out of this.

– I can’t wait to learn about the country’s specialties! she exclaims happily. Would you like to discover mine?

She does it on purpose, actually! Irina quickly frees herself from the first man's hold and he draws a baton to hit her, but she fights back. Once again, she struggles like a lioness while I try to escape my own assailant.

– Hands off !

He grabs my arm and I try to throw him off balance by pulling him towards me and then dodging. Nothing, he has more strength and experience than me, I take a blow to the ribs. Doubled over in pain, I search for Irina with my eyes. She screams while struggling relentlessly, until her opponent manages to overpower her. The fight calls out to the others who in turn bang on the cell bars. I want to defend her, but my soldier pins me against the wall, one of his forearms pinning my neck, trapping my wrist behind my back. The second guy lifts Irina off the ground, his baton strangling her. Gasping for air, she moves quickly, clawing at the hands that are choking her. Lars gets angry and others join him in shouting in broken English.

– What is happening ?

– Let us out!

– What do you want from us?

I remain the unfortunate spectator of the mistreatment of Irina. She is suffocating. With my head against the wall, I am forced to look. Let this be a lesson for me. With an effort, she manages to elbow her opponent in the ribs who releases enough pressure on her throat for her to hit the ground. She calls out to me, but her voice fades into a cough and she falls to her knees. I try to struggle, but a sharp pain radiates through my twisted arm. The last man, who had stayed behind until then, took the opportunity to stick a needle in her neck. I scream and try to free myself more than ever, in vain.

Irina is released and she gets up to hit the soldiers. Every sound coming out of her mouth are insults and taunts. Soon, her movements are disordered and she wobbles. Her voice gradually declines and words become incomprehensible. Then she staggers until she faints. Before she collapses, the guard catches her and lifts her into his arms. No matter how much I call, her eyes are closed and her body is inert. Lars is unleashed in the hallway and I beat my shoulders to free myself.

– What did you do to her?

The only response I get is being freed. I take the opportunity to turn around quickly, ready to fight. I then face his baton, pointed under my nose, sparks sizzling all around the stick. I raise my eyebrows and take a step or two back, raising my hands in surrender. He knows I'm not reckless, I don't want to kiss his gun. He leaves the cell and closes it behind him while I approach. I try to see them move away with Irina, without success. When the door slams harshly, we are once again alone in the silence. My forehead against the bars, I close my eyes and let myself slide to the ground, my face distorted by distress. The muffled sobs of despair are then lost in my throat.

Irina is the first they come for.

The sun has already set for hours when they bring her back. All this time, Vlad has been hiding in a corner. Sitting with my back to the wall, I hug my knees between my arms, my head buried, curled up on myself. I don't move, even when they bring a ration of vile food.

They throw Irina into the cell like a common rag. She is only a shadow of herself, inert at my feet. Her complexion is pale, grayish, she is obviously very sick. Her nose is even thicker than before, she fought like no tomorrow. Her eyes have lost their shine and her hair is like straw. She has marks on her skin, but even though she breathes, all strength has left her and traces of tears stain her cheeks.

My gaze fixed on the door, I wait for them to close it before rushing towards Irina and taking her in my arms. She doesn't seem to see me at first, then she starts coughing. She's burning hot.

Meanwhile, soldiers come back and forth to take more of us. I don't know how many are leaving, I don't count, my attention is focused on Irina. It starts with nosebleeds and a little cough. Her skin is so pale, her eyes are glassy and she is shaking like a leaf with fever.

Her condition then worsens second by second.

I remember Vlad being sick before with similar symptoms, a sore after a fall that became infected. But how can we appease her here?

I try to get her to talk, whatever it takes to keep her awake. I want to hear her breathe and see her move.

– Hey, Acrobat!

This is Lars asking for news about his sister. I brush some hair from Irina's forehead and she opens her eyes painfully. She's weak, but I smile. My mother always had a tendency to dramatize minor colds as major flu, who knows if I haven't inherited her paranoia !

– Bogdan! Lars shouts, suddenly remembering my name. I know you're there!

I raise my chin to answer him in a loud voice.

– She is fine !

– She didn't look like it when I saw her pass!

– It’s dark and she’s tired, that’s all. It will be better after a night rest.

I don't like lying to him, but I really don't need an angry Lars bellowing like a rabid dog down the hall. I understand it and I know I wouldn't stand it either if the roles were reversed. Besides, where is Vasile? Tibor, Magda and the others? I'm worried to death, but I have to stay calm. I turn my attention to Irina who responds to my smile.

– She doesn’t look well, my brother intervenes in an uncertain voice from the corner of the cell.

I look at him to keep quiet, it's better for everyone. She's not doing well at all, no, but I'd rather avoid a panic. I gently caress his cheek.

– What did they do to you?

Irina is shaken by a coughing fit as she tries to answer me. Her whole body is limp, she barely has the strength to raise a hand to put it in front of her mouth.

– I don’t know… Everything stank, it caught my nostrils and burned my eyes. And then they injected me with something.

Her voice is hoarse and scratchy, breathing is getting difficult. In her arm, I see puncture marks. All around, her skin is purple and something dark snakes along her veins up towards her shoulder. I try not to show how worried I am. And furious, too. Whatever they injected into her, it's spreading fast to the rest of her body. I pull her into my arms and hold her head against me.

– It will be okay.

– You always say that and then...

Her voice is so weak... She doesn't finish her sentence, interrupted by a new coughing fit. With my eyes, I search the cell in search of water. As I am too far away to catch it and I don't want to let go of Irina, I call on my brother.

– Vlad, bring me the pitcher.

But he doesn't move from his corner. Curled up on himself, I only see his nose protruding from the top of his knock-knees. I don't have time to deal with his night terrors, nor do I have time to be emotional or play diplomat. So I frown.

– Vlad! I said, more firmly. Please! NOW!

He jumps, but finally complies after a few seconds. When he finally moves forward, it is with small, unsteady steps. He hands me the water and hesitates to give it to me. In fact, I even have the impression that he doesn't want to come near at all.

– What's the matter ? I ask him.

– Is it contagious ?

What am I supposed to say? I keep my hand open while waiting for my brother to deign to comply. My eyes don't leave him, surely sending back a silent reproach sufficiently dissuasive for Vlad to finally obey.

I may well be contaminated, I don't care. I'm crazy at the idea of seeing her leave, run away from this nightmare and abandon me here, to endure it without her. I don't have the courage to face this all alone.

I stroke her hair, try to reassure her, tell her stories, hum her a few songs, I make her drink, force her to eat and her condition seems to stabilize. At least for just a few hours.

After a while, the pain becomes so severe that it becomes nothing more than a living moan. Her fever occurs hallucinations. As I refuse to let go, I scream for help. It's been a while since I last heard from Lars. They took the most rebellious ones first, which means my turn is coming. Let them come.

– Hey, dickheads!

A guard finally arrives in front of the cell, a rifle slung over his shoulder. That's new. They exchanged their batons for a much more deadly weapon. Have they increased security? Someone must have caused them more trouble than Irina and me. I don't know anything that's going on here except that she's dying in my arms. I approach the door, carrying Irina as best I can. She barely moves, her head rolling against my chest.

– You have to help me! I implore the soldier. She is sick!

The man stares at me without blinking. He doesn't look down at Irina and I find myself holding his gaze as my breathing quickens. Anger rises within me. He has one hand on his rifle, the other at his side, he doesn't even look suspicious, perfectly aware that I can't do anything to him. I can't quite figure it out, the corridor is dark. Asian type, I am unable to give him an age. His angular, expressionless face does not inspire danger in me. Paradoxically, he seems likable to me despite his little beady eyes. There's his name hanging on his jacket: Hwang.

I try my luck again and take a step towards him. He tightens his grip on his weapon. I don't know what language to speak with him. I'm trying my hand at the most universal, which I don't master very well: English.

– Please. I do whatever you ask.

The man finally looks down at Irina. That's when I notice him: he swallows, clenching his jaw. I wonder what he is waiting for to act and help me. After a short moment of hesitation, I understand from his look that my attempts are in vain.

– Please, she didn’t do anything, she innocent. I...

The man suddenly interrupts me:

– No.

I freeze. He spoke, he reacted, maybe I have a chance! I take advantage of it.

– She is all I have. I do anything. I beg you !

– I'm sorry.

He answers me in much better English than mine. He is the first soldier who does not bark a series of incomprehensible sounds.

– Don’t be sorry, help me! Can't you see that she's not well?

– I can not do anything for her.

– You can! Get her out of here! Please save her and I will do whatever you ask me, I will not fight, I will not make waves. I will be obedient.

He shakes his head.

– You do not understand. I can't do anything, even if I wanted to.

I become livid.

– It’s already too late.

My heart speeds up. The soldier lowers his weapon and leaves the way he came.

– No, wait!

I shout to stop him, but he ignores me and disappears down the hall.

– Hey! Come back!

If he can hear me, only silence answers me. Irina weighs on my arms and I am tired. I breathe in and out to give myself courage. I must not panic. As I land heavily on the ground and my back against the wall, she stares at me. She must only see a rag, half slumped over with dark circles up to the navel and the breath of a deep-sea seal. I'm hungry, I'm thirsty, but most of all, I'm depressed. All I want to do is curl up in a ball and cry. But if I break down now, it means that Irina is definitely lost.

– Hello, beauty, I say to her with a smile that she tries to imitate.

Her skin has turned yellowish, her eyes are bloodshot, and her veins are such a purplish blue that I can trace the disease eating away at her from her arm. It first spread toward her chest, but now it's moving up her neck and probably heading toward the brain. This poison spreads incredibly quickly.

– Bogdan… she begins.

I stop her with one finger on her lips and take the opportunity to brush strands of hair from her sweat-soaked forehead.

– Don’t say anything, rest.

– Bogdan, it’s useless. Listen to me. I saw Tibor. They injected him with the same thing as me.

Gently, I rock her, doing my best to remain calm. The most important thing is to keep your cool.

– Where is he now ?

– I don't know.

She begins to have difficulty speaking and her weak voice is interrupted by violent coughs. Her lips tremble and her eyes keeps on crying.

– There are so many things I would have liked to tell him.

– What are you talking about, it’s going to be okay, you’ll tell him yourself when you’re better. And that we will find him.

I hold Irina close to me as her shoulders shake with a sob.

– No, it won’t get better. They forced him to watch while they injected me with this thing. He was screaming at the top of his lungs. And then, it was his turn, I couldn't do anything to help him. He was in so much pain. His whole body was in convulsions, it was horrible. When it was over, they took him away. But as I myself was falling into madness, I saw his face. She was hanging in the air.

Hot tears roll down her cheeks.

– He is dead, Bogdan. They killed him. Right before my eyes. I could not do anything. I was paralyzed. I'm next.

– No. Do not say that. You're not going to die.

– Don’t let them inject you with that stuff, you hear me? You have to defend yourself. You have to fight, for the others, they will need to be protected. Promise it to me.

This all gives me goosebumps. Irina's words echo in my head like a farewell, but I remain in denial.

– I promise if you rest.

Her fingers caress my cheek and his gaze expresses a strange curiosity.

- What ? I ask, worried.

– I never noticed you had freckles.

– Some yes, but...

– It's cute.

I am confused. If anything, I’m puzzled. I reply in a low voice:

– You're not bad yourself.

It also makes her smile and she closes her eyes. I wrap her in my arms to protect her from the cold.

The lull is only short-lived. The cough starts again, to the point that she coughs up blood clots. Her lungs won't give her any respite and it looks like she's going to suffocate. Her skin is almost gray and veins are swollen. These form a maze through her body now.

– Bogdan, she sobs, pulling on the sleeve of my sweater.

Her voice trembles and she can barely pronounce my name without a hiccup. I reassure her by tenderly stroking her hair.

– I am here.

– Please.

She's getting worse by the minute now, and I'm at a loss. I don't know what to do, no one answers. I can't even hear the other prisoners anymore, to the point I wonder if there’s actually anyone else left. Vlad tries to disappear into the corner of the cell, he hasn't come near me or Irina since she came back. At least no one came looking for him either.

– My lungs... My throat... They burn so much.

I feel so bad for her, I purse my lips and clench my jaw. All I can do is stay there for her. And watch it fade away before my eyes.

– Tell me a story.

Her words sound like a last wish.

– No.

I am so categorical that I come across as a capricious child. I rock her even more. Irina sobs and turns my face to her. The poison has risen the temples and her skin is no longer yellow or gray, it got transparent. It seems she lost ten pounds in a few hours, but that's probably just an optical illusion.

I'm angry, I'm furious, my heart is threatening to burst out of my chest.

Still, Irina's fingers slide across my cheek. I won't survive this place. Not without her.

– You must be strong. You have to be courageous.

I purse my lips.

– Help me... I don’t want to end up like this. I deserve better. Don't let them win!

Her plea twists my eardrums. She is in pain and her chest is heaving more and more as she struggles to breathe.

– No.

– Please, she insists, grabbing my collar.

I grit my teeth and shake my head again.

– Bogdan...

I straighten her up to hold her against me. Her body is like a disjointed puppet. I rock her against me with burning eyes..

– I don’t want to die, she moaned in a high-pitched voice.

– I know, me neither, I whisper in his ear.

– I'm so afraid.

– I am here.

Irina is suddenly shaken by a violent cough, after which she bursts into tears. From fatigue and pain.

Swallowing becomes difficult, her gaze on mine. I record every detail of her pretty face so as not to forget any.

She is condemned, I see, to the poison that imprisons her entire body.

– Everything will be okay, I said in a deep, barely audible, but determined voice. I promise you.

She nods, closing her eyes.

– I trust you, she reassures me in the same tone. Only you can save me. I need you. We stay together ?

– Until the end.

– Your father... she continues. He always told us this story on All Saints Day.

It's actually a nursery rhyme to calm down crying babies.

– Will you… hold me very tightly against you while singing it to me? I don't remember it very well anymore.

I stay there, saying nothing. Her fingers slide down my cheek again until they brush my mouth.

– I will miss your lips, she says softly. And everything attached to it.

I close my hand on her, feeling faint. A faint smile momentarily lights up his face.

– Please, she begs again.

I grit my teeth and finally nod. I pick her up and she's holding on to me, clinging to my neck. Her breath is hot on my skin. I squeeze it, in the crook of my shoulder. After a few seconds, she starts to moan. She is too weak to free herself.

Raising my eyes to the high loophole through which the brilliance of the moon pierces, my mouth then begins mechanically:

The mother takes the child in her arms and goes out into the yard, with a piece of polenta in her hand. She breaks the polenta into three pieces and says the charm, throwing it towards the forest.

Muma Padurii,

I sent a sign to you,

From my child

To hug you in tears,

And give my child sleep and rest,

To sleep like a log

And hush like a kitten.

How birds sleep in the forest,

So let my baby sleep.

Quiet at last.

The sobbing had stopped.

A mournful silence fell over the cell.

Irina's hand slides from my shoulder slowly, revealing the mark of her nails on my skin. And as I release my grip, her head falls sinisterly back into the crook of my elbow. I open my eyes to see her inert, her eyelids half-closed. Still supporting her, I shake her lightly, hoping she wakes up. In vain. A hiccup escapes my throat. I held her so tight against me.

I tenderly brush a lock of hair from her forehead before cradling her against me.

Ever since, Irina's shadow haunts each of my nights.

CHAPTER 4

Aether

Two days later, it's my turn.

Vlad and I are apart. I suffered one or two new bruises while struggling as our executioners came back to collect Irina. I refused to let go of her, I felt like she was being taken away from me and that I was abandoning her.

Since then, I haven't swallowed anything, or almost nothing. My hands keep shaking and my whole body struggles with unpleasant shivers. I managed to doze off for a few moments, but not enough to rest.

I am tired, withdrawn into myself in the corner of the cell. All I can do is wait like a lost soul. All strength has left me. I don't pay any attention to the door opening and the footsteps approaching me.

– Get up.

Somebody is talking to me, but I don't hear it, stuck in some sort of catatonia that isolates me from the real world. I remain still.

Someone grabs my arm and lifts me up. It's that soldier again. Hwang, the one who took us out of the truck, who brought us here, who came to pick up Irina, who refused to help me... His face becomes familiar. However, that does not make us friends, nor allies. When I realize the meaning of him being here, a wave of panic awakens my muscles.

– Let me go.

I lower my elbows, but I am so weak... Vlad feels himself growing wings. He breaks his silence and shouts, trying to stop one of the two soldiers pulling him by the arm. He’s so small and frail, restraining him requires no effort. The man holds him as I leave the cell, firmly accompanied.

– Bogdan! Don’t leave me!

I look over my shoulder and try to look as confident as possible.

– I will be back ! Just stay calm and everything will be fine!

– You always say that and then...

– I promise you, Vlad. I promise!

They shall not come after my brother to punish me, so I try to set a docile example. Anyway, even if I wanted to run away, I wouldn't go far. Every step is torture. One hand under each arm holding me firmly, we walk up the corridor of cells. The majority of them are empty, but a few faces rise to observe me. So I was not alone. However, I don't recognize anyone.

To exit, we pass a large secure door opening onto a path bathed in light. Dazzled, I narrow my eyes and grin. They push my back so I move forward. I glare at the soldier, but he doesn't seem keen to deal with yet another resistance. With his chin, he orders me to obey and I give up. I'm tired of taking hits.

We pass through several doors, and the further it goes, the cleaner and brighter it gets. Casually, it feels good to stretch my legs after all this time. I have no idea where I'm going, or what will happen to me, but part of me is curious.

The corridors are wide and two Asians in white coats are pushing a stretcher on which is hidden a shapeless mass which means nothing to me. It's quite imposing, too much for a human or maybe it's Lars. I swallow hard as I watch the men not paying any attention to us. Guess they see kids like me every day. One of them talks while the other takes notes, and as they pass us, a sudden movement catches my eye.

Something moved under the sheet.

I jumped to the side to get as far away from the stretcher as possible, seeking refuge behind one of my guards. How ironic. Alerted by my sudden reaction, one of them raises his rifle to point it at me. Hwang follows my gaze. The two blouses stare at me curiously.

An arm swings sinisterly in the air. It's greenish and... rotten, totally misshapen, eaten away by decomposition and the smell that emanates from it... I press a hand to my nose. It looks like not fresh fish. I think I'm going to vomit. My escort protects me by interposing between the stretcher and me. Hwang barks at the white coats and the one who was taking notes works to hide the monstrosity. It's too late, I saw it! Each time, the lifeless arm escapes him, as if it were covered in a viscous substance... Which drips onto the ground. I don't know what it is, but it makes my heart ache and I turn pale. The other soldier pulls me away and I follow with pleasure! Out of misplaced curiosity, I take one last look over my shoulder and watch the thing until it disappears around the corner.

I don't want to end up like this. My eyes are wide with panic and I'm shaking like a leaf. Is this what awaits me? Is it my turn to die? Is this all I deserve? I'm terrified. Even more than before, if that's possible.

– What was that ? I ask carefully.

Unsurprisingly, none answer. On the other hand, they lengthen their pace, mine with it.

– Hey, I’m talking to you! You've been detaining us for long enough now, I have a right to know! I want to know what's going on!

They barely listen, but I feel a hand tighten on my arm. It's Hwang's.

– No! I scream, trying to step back to free myself.

Prisoner in their embrace, I can do nothing and here they are, threatening me with their guns to make me obey.

– If you want to kill me, what are you waiting for! Huh?

They force me to walk towards a door secured by a strange box. This thing glows and turns green when one of the guards shows his card to it. A space resembling an operating room is then revealed. Now I'm panicking for real. I don't have good memories of the last one I visited at all. What strikes me more than anything is the smell and I place my hand on my face again to reduce it. If I had to describe it, I would say it stinks of death.

The light is so bright here. As walls, white cupboards line the room. Some are display cases in which products are stored. A sink, a few towels and a lounge chair like I saw at the dentist once. Above, a large lamp illuminates a shelf on which tools are lined up. I have a chill down my spine. Needles, vials, stuff that go into things to dig into my mouth, my eyes or my ears, what do I know...

A man in a blouse turns to me. Until then, he was busy putting away his instruments. I swallow, wondering which one he'll start with. There is blood on his chest. There are only a few drops, but it's enough to make my stomach turn. I whisper:

– No, wait...

They don't want to kill us. They want to carry out experiments that could kill us. I step back and my back meets my escort. They take me to the chair. No matter how much I fight, nothing can be done. The man approaches with a syringe, which is not reassuring. He is tall and skinny and of a certain age. With his chin, he points to my arm. The soldiers hold my wrist to offer the crook of my elbow. I implore:

– At least tell me what you’re doing!

A guard is gibbering something and the others are exchanging strange words. The scientist finally nods and smiles at me. I do not understand. He's probably trying to tell me everything will be okay… but that would surprise me. I can't move and mutter pleas as the needle digs into my skin. I barely feel it, but just seeing it... I lean my head back to hit the seat. I am failing my promise. They will kill me, like they killed Irina and Tibor and that thing in the hallway. Suddenly, the calm that I had managed to find while walking along the corridor is nothing more than a vague memory and all my distress distorts my face. With it, my silent sobs melt into a multitude of unanswered supplications.

After a moment, the old man pats my shoulder and I open my eyes. Nothing happened and I don't feel any different. I look at my arm, which the scientist has folded with a makeshift cotton ball. I cast a stunned glance at my close guard, but they remain completely expressionless.

– What, is that all? A blood test?

Once again, Hwang and the white coat exchange a few words and the latter starts to laugh. There's nothing funny about this. Did he see me whining like a baby a few seconds ago?

Meanwhile, the old man goes from one sample to another, mixes something, places it on something else, shakes it with a thingy... Damn, it's long. The longer it goes, the more I try to free myself. But whatever happens, I am well harnessed to the seat. I observe his actions and, when finally a green square appears on one of the monitors, the scientist seems satisfied.

He then prepares a new cocktail of who knows what else. Slowly he shakes the tube, but a black substance does not mix with the rest. It stagnates in the middle, looking like smoke in liquid. My imagination sees a Betta, a majestic ebony fighting fish with voluptuous fins in motion. I am captivated and terrified at the same time. I don't want that thing near me. He pours everything into a vial which he connects to a mask and comes back to me. Irina was stung several times in the arm. It doesn't match, something's wrong, it's not normal. I purse my lips, my chest heaving with my heavy breathing. I want to scream. Hwang holds my shoulders firmly.

They tie my wrists and ankles. I sob again, like an absolute loser. It's all I can do as my eyes, round as marbles, beg not to hurt me by following the path of his hand. I go from torture instrument to scientist with a panicked look. I defend myself, I try to tear off my bonds, I shake myself in all directions. In vain. He screws the mask onto my face, holding my forehead firmly so that I don't move.

After a while, I can’t help but breathe.

For a few seconds, nothing happens. It's even sweet. I am in the eye of the storm where everything is calm and serene. Until the storm hits.

The gas ends up irritating my throat and clouding my head slightly. My veins turn black, I can follow its course through each of my limbs, it surrounds my muscles, gradually spreading throughout my body. My chest heaves more and more frantically. Little by little, pain radiates through my chest before turning into a migraine. At first, it is nagging, annoying, but bearable. And then, she pinches, twists my eardrums until it feels like my eyes are going to pop out of their sockets. I shake my head sharply to get rid of the mask, but the scientist doesn't let go of me until the gas is completely released into my body.

As the pain subsides, I can no longer feel my legs or arms, nor the rest of my body. It's a terribly unpleasant feeling. I feel like I'm constantly falling into the void. No matter how much I scream, no sound comes out.

I blink. A taste of iron and sulfur makes my mouth pasty. It spins a little, it spins a lot. And, at one point, I see little pink elephants.

Or purple.

Everywhere.

I blink again, and the elephants turn into half a dozen turkeys, giggling like hyenas.

I'm hallucinating.

The scientist runs a hand through my hair, consoling me with a fatherly caress.

Now I'm high, that’s for sure.

I can hear someone talking to me, but sounds feel distant, I must be deaf. A growl raises the hairs on my body. A storm coming?

A fish, the same Betta fish from earlier, dances across the room, its long sails floating in the air like a cloud of voluptuous smoke. It swims around Hwang next to me, enveloping him in a fog. As he disappears, his skin turns black. I take a deep breath, dreading what is to come. I have a hard time looking away, if it's a hallucination it's damn convincing. Dark hairs grow on the face of the fish. Its nose lengthens, as do its ears, into a frightening maw. It gradually transforms into an imposing wolf with thick fur. This mixes with the Fighter's fins, until they merge. The spectacle is as magnificent as it is distressing.

Slowly, the wolf raises its head towards me and from its eyes emanates a reddish glow which diffuses into the mist. Its lips roll up to reveal a row of sharp fangs. The rumbling becomes more menacing and the fog almost completely hides it now. I was left alone with him. Everything around me disappeared, swallowed by darkness. I only perceive the wild beast and the Dantesque brilliance of its irises. My breathing quickens, my heart races. Despite the horrors I have experienced recently, this beast terrifies me more than anything in the world.

Suddenly, from its large monstrous mouth escapes a thunderous roar which sweeps away everything on its path. It wasn't the beginning of a storm I heard earlier...

Then the wolf pounces on me.

It is the sharpest, most excruciating and insurmountable pain I have ever known.

The men who had surrounded me until then suddenly moved aside when I let out a howl exorcizing the hell that had become my body. Something is happening inside me, I feel a poison invading me, seep into my bones, feed on my blood, eat away at my muscles. I already know how this is all going to end. I will suffer martyrdom, then my brain will explode and I will die. Alone.

The intense pain drags on. Claws tear at my chest. Fangs tear out my heart. My lungs are emptying. Darkness engulfs me.

That’s when, suddenly, something explodes in my skull. My screaming stops at once and my head falls back.

In a final sigh, I reach the abyss of a dark ocean.

A beam of light filters through my eyelids, like the sun's rays between leaves shaken by the wind.

I have no idea where I am or what happened, yet it's not okay, I'm not okay. The pain has gone away, but there is something inside me. I hear him rumbling inside, I feel him quiver, fidget. It's indescribable, but I know it's there. In me.

In this half-conscious state, I hear voices and moan in response. My head bobs briefly. I am no longer tied down, I can move my feet and hands. Groping around, I recognize a bed reminding me how tired I am.

I can't resist the urge to sink again. I didn't even have the strength to open my eyes. I'm no longer in pain, it's comfortable, it's the only information my brain needs. My heart stops and my head rolls onto a soft cushion to let my body rest.

Two masses fall onto my chest. I'm out of breath. An electric current runs down my spine. I jump. Two tons fall on my chest again.

– The End!

Irina's fingers tangle with my curls and, through my closed eyelids, the light dances.

She places the book next to her as I sit up, coming out of a daydream. I recognize the place, it's the clearing a few meters from our village.

I stare at her for a long moment. Part of me knows that her blonde hair blowing in the wind isn't real, nor is her smile. However, she is here. I brush aside one of her locks that was blocking her face and bring it back behind her ear. With a tender gesture, my palm lingers on his cheek.

– Are you okay? I ask.

– Of course! Why?

– You look tired.

– It’s nothing, I just had to sleep. I’m better now!

My eyes fall on her generous mouth which I caress with my thumb. My mind is conflicted. Irina is no more, I killed her with my bare hands, yet her presence feels perfectly normal. And real. Am I dead too?

– I’m sorry.

– For what? You have no reason to blame yourself. You did the right thing.

– There was surely another way.

– There will be a lot of difficult choices to take and you will have to accept them. It won't do you any good to be sorry.

I'm not sure what that means, but whatever. Irina is here and that's all that matters. I thread my fingers through her hair and slide a hand up to the nape of his neck. Her skin is so soft. Her eyes pierce my gaze, my heart beating wildly. She probes my soul like no one before her, I have the feeling she reads in me like an open book. My breathing quickens and our noses brush. The words that escape me are just a breath in the wind.

– I’m going to miss you.

My stomach tightens. I lean down to kiss her lips when a heartbreaking scream disrupts the peaceful atmosphere.

– Bogdan!

I jump and tense up, looking around me, on alert. I could have sworn I knew the voice. Imprint of distress and torment. She looked like Irina, but... I turn my attention back to her. The young girl bathed in light and sunshine has disappeared in favor of her ghost. A scream of horror escapes my throat and I jump back, crawling on my hands to get away from her. Her skin is gray and in place of her veins runs a whole network of black lines. Her body is covered in bruises, her lip is split and the edges of her eyelids are purplish. Little by little, her hair also turns black, and the whole clearing becomes dark. The sky darkens, the clouds thicken and the fog lifts.

She stares at me without saying anything, her face expressionless.

– Only you must protect them, Bogdan.

It is a dream.

– Who?

Her ebony eyes reflect the brightness of the moon.

– All of them.

Black blood replaces her tears. Her hair liquefies like oil on her shoulders. Each of her veins swells, taking on a hue as dark as the darkness that surrounds us more and more.

I need to wake up.

– Of what? From whom?

I have to run away.

– From themselves.

NOW !

I suddenly come out of my nightmare and sit up, my lungs empty. I suck in the oxygen, the blood drumming against my temples at a frantic pace, but a sudden coughing fit chokes me. I roll onto my side, one arm across my stomach burning from the inside, I claw at my throat, my back hunched. I can not breathe. Something is stuck. I'm suffocating.

– Are you OK ?! a female voice exclaims.

I lean over and, eventually, with my head above the void, I puke. Something dark and slimy splashes onto the ground. Oxygen finally flows to my lungs. I can breathe again. I live again, breath after breath. On the ground, the blackish puddle makes me grin. It has nothing to do with the contents of my stomach. Fortunately, it doesn't smell like it either. It looks like oil, but more matte if that's possible. I spit out a few more drops before standing up.

– You are sick ?

The female voice again.

– No, I’m brushing my teeth, I reply cynically.

A gentle warmth radiates through my chest. I take a deep breath, feeling a little better. With my forearm, I wipe my mouth and let myself fall heavily on my back, eyes closed.

– You have a funny way of doing things, if I may.

I still enjoy a few seconds of being alive before making fun of this stranger with a hoarse voice.

– I was ironic…

No response, except my stomach twisting again. I grimace as I moan, arms tight around my stomach, and painfully turn onto my side to ease the pain. Opposite, bedridden like me, there is a strange girl. I say girl because she has the voice and features. Nothing is less certain. She is wrapped in a blanket and shivering. Her skin is red, as if burned, her hair is orange with golden tips and her eyes shine like sparkling gold. They are so clear that they even appear white depending on the light. I frown.

– Am I still dreaming? I ask.

– A dream? You’re serious, right now? You wish!

Slowly, I scan the room. Here too, everything is dazzling, sanitized. It feels like a large hospital room, except there are no windows and no flowers on the furniture. There isn't even any furniture at all. It’s all empty.

– It’s scary, isn’t it?

I find myself between two beds, but the third is unoccupied, the sheets squared away, military style. After a while, I turn back to the girl. If it freaks me out? Where do I start?

– Where are we?

Leaning on one elbow, she looks around the room and responds evasively:

– I don’t know, I woke up here a while ago, just like you.

– What happened to you?

She giggles and gestures at me with her chin.

– The same thing as you, obviously.

I frown. A short needle is inserted into the back of my hand, held in place by a piece of adhesive tape. Its tip is decorated with a small flashing diode. The last time I saw one like this, it was on my sick aunt. It transmitted her vital signs and heart rate. However, there was a monitor next to her, which wasn’t here.

But that's not what leaves me speechless.

Under gray sleeveless pajamas, my skin is black. I gasp in surprise. A wave of anxiety overwhelms me, I pass my hand over my arms, black too, but the texture is strange. It is exceptionally soft, it looks like flour... Soot. I scratch, I rub, nothing helps.

Everything is black. This strange necrosis covers me from head to toe. I pull one of my hair curls. Jay black. My eyes, my nails, my tongue. I reinvented the definition of all black.

I am a shadow, a ghost.

– Are you alright?

– Yeah, I’m on fire right now.

– No, that’s me, don’t steal my lines on the first day, Don Juan, got it?

I know this voice, its intonation, this sarcastic melody. Except that's not possible. It is a little different, scratchy as after an evening of concerts singing and shouting at the top of your lungs. Or like after a life of smoking like a fireman. She pulls her blanket up under her nose.

– Aren’t you freezing?

As for me, I'm too hot. Standing up, I slowly place one foot after the other. The ground isn't even cold. I don't know what's happening to me, I don't know what to say, so I find something to keep my mind busy. In this case, the girl. Still a bit hesitant on my feet, I grab my own blanket and come closer to her.

– There.

I sit on the edge of her bed, pulling the blanket up to her chest. Then my eyes meet hers.

At first, I am struck by the beauty of her eerie looks. It has everything of a gentle, reassuring flame, and at the same time burning and passionate. And given the temperature emanating from her, I can't believe she's cold. In turn, she stands up, her eyebrows furrowed.

– What, I ask uneasy.

She studies me more closely, trapping my chin, then my cheeks, in her hands. Even her touch is burning hot. As she opens her mouth without any sound coming out, she scans the rest of my body. The more I stare at her, the more I recognize her features. Suddenly, she throws herself around my neck and hugs me against her with incredible force.

– My God, Bogdan!

I’m in shock. Magda clings to me and suddenly thousands of barriers collapse inside her and she bursts into tears.

– I thought you were dead!

I thought I was dead too.

Her distress, mixed with palpable relief, breaks my heart. I wrap her hot body in my arms and slide a protective hand through her hair. How can she be cold?

– I’m fine.

Again, that sweet feeling in my stomach also soothes my headaches.

– Everything is fine.

Nothing is well.

Her tears redouble in strength, muffled against my chest. She seems so tiny to me.

– I’m here, everything is fine now.

Nothing will ever be okay ever again.

“Courage is not the absence of fear,
but the ability to overcome it. »

― Nelson Mandela

ABOUT

The author

Shiri Ubar was born in 1995 in Qazvin, northern Iran. Coming from a wealthy family, she undertook a career in finance before meeting her partner, whom she married a few years later. Her work quickly made her an international businesswoman, which led her to travel around the world.

In October 2026, she was on board the last plane to leave American soil. Long presumed dead with all the other passengers, her name only resurfaced in the 2060s as the leader of The New Dawn, a group of Human’s rights defenders, based throughout the Middle East.

She died in September 2075 in Silopi , Turkey.

During her long life, Shiri has collected numerous testimonies from Natives, Negatives, Positives and Candidates. These writings were found after her death, in a small house in China, Mexico.

The one you are holding in your hands is one among others.