It hurts! It hurts! Does it? Ah, never mind...
My hands dragged, my body rolling like a carcass in the wet corridor. The voices were still gnawing at my skull. Fools! Traitor! They were strangling, more agonizing than a whip on the back. Maybe if there were enough of them, I'd pass out. Better than being a spectacle in the square later.
Why do I deserve this? Because I spoke the truth they were hiding? But is it really my fault? Challenging a giant with a wooden stick. Fool! What a fool! The voice scoffed again, merging with the hum of electricity in the prison cell.
"Move! Hurry up, scum!" The warden's shout roared, never out of breath.
I hate it. Hate the smell of this rusty iron. Hate the taste of chemical drugs that force spasms in my nerves. Hate the bone-chilling cold of the cold room, leaving me naked as an experimental animal. I hated them. The white-robed doctors in disguise, tearing at my mind with poisonous questions. The tyrants up there, munching wealth while watching our suffering.
What for? My cries of "common good" were just echoes on wet walls. There was no point.
**"Tonight, at 8 p.m., the prisoner named... 'Crazy Journalist' will be executed by order of ***."
The sound sliced through the frozen air. The gaping hole in the snowy ground was waiting. Their carbines are ready. My hands were tied tightly to the wooden poles. I did not resist. Despair was no longer pain; it was a cold emptiness, more frozen than the snow that chewed at my feet.
Ivan, the old warden who often gave me leftover cigarettes, approached. His eyes were red. "Pathetic," he muttered, his voice hoarse. "I thought you had a bright future... Now, you're dead by my hand."
I stared at him blankly. "The world is changing, Ivan," I whispered, barely audible. The wind picked up, scoffing at my words. "I... once imagined a future... It wasn't supposed to be... like this forever..."
Silence. Only the wind and the creak of the shovel. Ivan threw away his cigarette butt. His tears fell, freezing before they hit the earth. He backed away, his face contorted.
"What future? You...су́ка блядь!" he shouted, but the tremble in his voice was more like a wail.
I stared straight at the barrel of the Kar98k aimed at my forehead. Is this what I call resignation? In a matter of seconds, everything would be over. The hatred, the pain, the fear... all gone. Only absurd relief: there would be no more torment, no more experiments.
A faint smile spread across my lips.
No! Don't give up so easily! The voice urged again, wild, desperate. I'm still here! The part of you they can't kill!
He laughed. A maniacal laugh, shrill as a lullaby to eternity. What does he say? The gun barrel, black and cold, was my last focal point.
Dorr! At the interval of one second i felt an incredible pain in my chest.
...
Ivan took a long, smoky breath. "Bury the carcass!"
What a miserable life. Born from the womb of poverty. Grown up in bitterness. Became a starving student. Then a journalist who died of hunger and truth. What's next? Oh yes... ending up in this hole.
In the darkness that began to envelope, before consciousness completely faded, a prayer rang out, not to a God who might not hear, but to whatever power was out there:
If there is reincarnation... if there is a glimmer of compassion in this cruel universe...
Give me the life of an ordinary child.
A warm family.
A chance to grow up in peace...
Ah, if only...
Just that... is enough...
***
"Look, darling! Our child has been born!"
That woman's voice... Who? My head was heavy, my consciousness still foggy. Before I could comprehend, heavy footsteps approached quickly, climbing the creaking wooden stairs.
That's when I realized...
"Our son?"
No way.
NO WAY.
Is this a near-death dream? Or...?
Reflexively, a smile stretched across my tiny lips. It felt strange-the uncontrollable facial muscles, the cold air stinging bare skin, the dim light that was too bright after eternal darkness... I became a baby?
Reincarnation...?
This tiny heart was beating fast, not out of pain, but hope. Will my last prayer at the edge of the grave be heard? Will it finally be... peaceful?
"Look, darling! He's smiling!"
The woman-my mother now-lifts me up with rough but gentle hands. The scent of blood, sweat, and something warm... like firewood? wrapped around me. She handed me over to a tall, bearded figure whose eyes were glazed over. My father?" He smiled, his callus finger touching my cheek carefully, like holding a bird that could break.
"He also had white hair... just like you, Ares."
White hair?
Thoughts raced. This isn't a joke? Not the beginning of a new cycle of torment? Their happiness was genuine, but... doubts hovered like a cold mist. This body... is something wrong? Why is my hair white?
Ding!
A loud, piercing sound, like a small bell breaking inside my skull!
PAIN!
The pain-short but deep-made me convulse for a moment, a strangled cry escaping my mouth that I couldn't control.
What?! Migraine? After birth?!
My mom immediately rocked me, whispering softly. "Shhh... My darling, it's... it's..."
My father's panic was felt. "What's wrong, rose?!"
It seemed to subside. But the residual sting and the sound lingered.
What was that?
The system? A message? Or... the damaged remnants of my old shattered mind?
I stared up at the rickety wooden ceiling, a small chest rising and falling rapidly.
Hope and fear fought in my mind.
Please... let this be real.
Please... don't take this away from me.
Just when I thought everything was calm...
BRAAK!
The door to the room slammed open! A small shadow-only about the height of an adult's knee-came crashing in like a mini hurricane.
"Mom!!!" She shouted, her voice shrill with panic. A little girl, her gray hair disheveled, her simple clothes smeared with mud. Her eyes-big and the color of honey-immediately sought out my mother. "Is Mommy okay? Papa said there's a baby!"
My mom giggled weakly, but her smile was warm. "Calm down, Ara. Mom is fine. Look, your brother is born."
Ara - that's her name, my sister - approached cautiously, her wide eyes becomes more widened as she watched me in my mother's arms. There was amazement, a little anxiety, but most of all: a burning curiosity.
I accidently over analyzed again! these are my families, i shouldn't do that.
That night, everything feels magical. For once the drops of rain outside isn't the sound of water pouring over concrete, instead into a wooden and thatched roof. And the dim lightning...didn't come close to what only moonlight give me when i was rotting in that leaky prison cell. I felt at peace.
The warm sensation of burning charcoal, and the warm sensation of a family. ah, why do i feel like crying now? I'm a man! But now I'm a baby though...but still.
Even though my body is still weak. I won't let this pass me by. My life-which is peaceful-has just begun. In this time, when I can do nothing but cry and suckle... maybe it's time to really do nothing. Just... feel. And believe.
Could i bear to believe?
"Oh yeah!" Ara suddenly exclaimed, jolting my thoughts. She pointed at me with her tiny finger. "What's his name, Mom?"
My mom was silent. Her gaze was fixed on me. Behind the tiredness and happiness in her blue eyes, there was something deeper-a glimpse of a fine wrinkle on the forehead, a slightly dreamy gaze. What are you thinking, Mother? I tried to read her face, something I used to do with interviewees to catch lies or fear. But her face was... different. It was too clear, too loving for me to read it that way. I turned my still-red face towards Ara, finding it easier to see the innocent joy on my sister's face.
calm down...i just need to believe.
my mother sighed, it seems as if she's had a very bad day. But a smile is put on her face once more, and somehow that feels more genuine.
I smiled seeing her smile.
With a soft voice she says it...
"Blanc..."
White?
"Et Noir."
And Black...
What an interesting name to give to a newborn...
"Blanc Et Noir." She repeated.
Suddenly, the tightness hit me.
Not in my stomach, but in my chest-like a boulder crushing my tiny ribs. My breath hitches. The panic of the past pushed out, looking for a way...
Then, the voice broke.
"Waaah-!!!"
A loud, guttural cry, not like an ordinary baby's. My legs kicked wildly, hands shaking to claw at the air.
Rose was startled. "Shhh, sweetheart... why?" She immediately hugged me tightly, rocking my body in a typical motherly rhythm.
To them, it's just a fussy baby. Ara approached, a worried look on her face. "Noir crying, Mommy?"
But to me...
This wasn't the cry of a baby.
It's the scream of my soul trapped in a cell for years.
It's rage at the executioners, at the hunger pangs, at the cold of the prison floor. It's despair as the barrel of the rifle points to the forehead.
It all explodes out-with a sound they can't understand.
My mother giggles slowly...
"That's what babies do..."
After fifteen minutes or so i finally calm down, the warmth and lullaby by my mother calmed me. Such fool am i. I wanna commit to this life, i want to make a new story in my life but... can i trust anyone?
Calm state of my mind make me overthink a lot, as a baby i shouldn't do that...
Hello Noir
The voices...still lingers here?
That voice...
Ringing, loud, but at the same time... hollow. Like an echo in an empty room. Its tone was shrill-not friendly, but mocking. Slicing through the post-crying silence.
What do you want?! I challenged in my mind, my body rigid in Mom's arms. The voice rudely cut off the remnants of my sadness.
Just wanted to say hello... His laughter was broken, short, metallic, and unnatural. Look at you. The dashing warrior of righteousness... now a red baby crying in mom's arms.
I squeeze my little eyes shut. No, no, no. Don't let his poison this. "This family is real. This peace is real," I whispered to myself. "it is real i swear...."
Why is this happening, huh...? His voice changed, suddenly pensive, as if questioning the universe. A frozen grave... then light... then a baby's scream... It's a strange jump, isn't it?
What do you mean?! My mind is heating up. Isn't this your doing? Or some kind of dirty joke?! Besides- I'm out of breath. -Who are you anyway?!
I don't know... His answer is...cold and ambiguous. I am... something. A being? An echo? A fragmentation of consciousness? The exact answer... I can't give you.(because i don't know)
Silence for a moment, then he continued, faster, like a whisper on the wind: Well, the point is, it wasn't ME that pulled you here. You were just... sucked in. An anomaly. Probably.
You can make this your new life goal, 'Blanc et Noir'. Find out. Investigate. How did YOU end up here? What was the mechanism? Is there a way back-
I DON'T WANT TO GO HOME!
My inner scream broke the silence, full of desperation and determination. Listen carefully, Voice! This world I was reborn into... This FAMILY that embraces me... this is what I beg for before I die! I gaze (though blurred) at Rose's tired but loving face, feel Ares's pounding heart from across the room, hear Ara playing softly.
This is my HEAVEN. No matter what you, or anyone else out there plans... I WON'T LEAVE. No one needs to be 'sent home'!
Silent fills the air again, That night, my mother and sister was already asleep. I was put into a separated baby bed alone, and my father was going out.
Then his voice breaks out again, his...somewhat maniacal laughter. But his voice? Now become somewhat puzzled.
Interesting. He says, So then, this is my goodbye for now.
I yawned, he's right...it's time for bed...I closed my eyes, lots of things are happening today. Then, farewell...'Voice'
After You reach the age of five...Befriend the green haired girl...It's your fist task.
His voice gradually became more and more unheard, like backing off from me. Whatever...