“Dammit!”
The sounds that I had tried hard to ignore finally managed to break my concentration on the book I was reading. “What is he even doing at this hour?” I murmured to myself. With angry steps, I left my room. As I walked down the long corridor, the voices that had initially annoyed me began to take on a terrifying quality. Strangely, the closer I got to my father’s lab, the more the muted noises resembled choking.
I reached the open door of the lab and decided to take a peek. I didn’t know how I managed to remain so composed in that moment, but I was strangely more courageous than usual. Pressing my back against the wall, I peered inside. The scene before me was more than enough to explain the source of the disturbing sounds.
A man, choking my father with a rope, came to my vision. Unable to move, I could only watch the situation unfold. The man was dressed like a butler, and a small glint caught my eye on his ankle. A dagger, with a small, red flag on the grip. In a moment of shock, I muttered something under my breath.
“The Russians.”
I thought I had said it silently, but apparently, I hadn't. Both my father and the man turned their shocked eyes towards me. I quickly covered my mouth, but it was too late.
“No, Vincent!”
Gathering his last breath, my father shouted my name, though his voice was weak. Frustrated and enraged, the man struck my father with a punch, rendering him unconscious.
He then began to approach me. My body begged at me to scream for help, to run, to do something, but I remained frozen. I stood there, watching the man come closer, his intent clear.
“Я собирался сделать это по-другому, но…”(1)
He said something in Russian and drew his dagger.
“This is the end for you,” he added, surprisingly with a perfect British accent. He grabbed my left shoulder, hoisting me up. It was only then when I felt a searing pain on the left side of my chest that I realised I had been stabbed.
He flung me to the ground and turned to walk back to my father. Crimson fluid rushed out of my body as I sank to the ground. A metallic taste filled my mouth as my own blood filled my lung. As my vision slowly blurred, my eyes focused on the man as a weird last effort.
In a horrifyingly swift motion, the man slit my father’s throat. As I watched the blood pool spreading on the floor, he calmly approached the window. The last thing I saw before my vision faded to black was him leaping out of the window.
(1):[ “I was going to do this differently but…”]
----------------------------------------
First purple, then blue, followed by the whole spectrum. Colourful, but muted… I drifted along for what felt like hours, days, weeks. Then, all colour suddenly cut out, leaving me alone in darkness.
Unauthorized usage: this tale is on Amazon without the author's consent. Report any sightings.
Dark… Too dark… I didn’t know what exactly I expected from death, but at the very least I wasn’t expecting to feel… conscious. I was expecting nothing actually. But here I was, in the middle of nothingness, but somehow it wasn’t feeling like nothing at all. Because I still existed. Whatever I was, I still did. Then I slowly realised something, I didn’t know who I was, or what I was.
Vision came to me in a flash of yellowish light. Then suddenly, I started to feel again. My whole body. It felt numb, like an army of ants were walking all over me, but it was still a nice change.
I was being pushed towards the light and my eyes closed shut in response. With that motion, I began to remember who I was, and what I was. My last memories hit me, making me realise that I… had died. Overwhelmed with emotions, I cried.
Fear took hold of me again as tears filled my eyes. I screamed, but only a very high pitched and underdeveloped voice came out of me. I tried to open my eyes, but it felt like an elephant was sitting on my eyelids, holding them shut. I tried flexing my arms, moving my legs, but my muscles refused to listen. Everything I tried to do felt half-baked.
Then rather large arms took hold of me, pulling me into a soft, warm embrace. A soft kiss landed on my forehead, a hand larger than my face slowly caressing me. My dark emotions slowly subsided as a newfound comfort washed over me.
Following the comfort, the numbness and heaviness on my eyelids slowly lifted as well. I opened my eyes and blinked, trying to adjust to the bright light. What I found, however, more than shocked me.
A man with bright hazel eyes, almost green, was holding me firmly, his blonde curly hair and sharp facial features making his smiling face even brighter. His eyes were a little small, but that didn't make his loving gaze any smaller.
Behind him, a woman lay on a bed. She was wearing sacks for clothes and her face was covered in beads of sweat. Unlike the man, she wore a tired expression, relief and love hidden within. Much like the man, she was young, barely in her late twenties. Her dark, black hair was matched by a pair of ocean blue eyes that contrasted beautifully with her hair. She eyed me carefully as the man turned towards her.
“It’s a boy, honey!” the man exclaimed joyfully, his eyes looking for a response in the woman’s face. His wife, I thought. Then that makes me-
Fearful of the conclusion I had come to, I slowly tilted my head down to inspect myself. When I saw my small limbs, I began to cry again. I was reborn.
My cry cut off as the door behind us flung open, a girl no more than five, rushed in.
“Mommy!”
The girl jumped into her mother’s arms. My mom too, I guessed, feeling calm momentarily. The nurse nearby, which I hadn’t noticed until that exact moment, slowly pulled the girl away.
“Carefull,” she said slowly. “She just gave birth.”
As the girl looked around with almost teary eyes my father crouched down to her level.
“Well, meet your brother, Eve.”
“Brother? Yay, little brother!” she exclaimed, her arms in air, causing her blonde hair to flail over.
“Can I hold him?” she asked, wearing the cutest smile I’d ever seen.
“Unfortunately not. In fact, the baby spent enough time without any cover,” the nurse said as she picked me up and covered me with a sheet of blanket. Then I was finally handed over to my mother. To no one’s surprise, she couldn’t hold back her tears any longer and began to cry softly with a tender smile on her face.
Rotating my underdeveloped neck, I took a last look around. The view I saw around me pushed one big smile to my face. Unfortunately, the baby muscles on my face couldn’t really reflect that smile. Well, not that I care, I thought as I began to drift off into a peaceful sleep.