Hello, darlings. I owe you one more story told by Odette. (Part 1 in here . Part 2 in here )
We took a long pause after that night, as it was clear she was pretty distressed by retailing it. I kept in contact with Sophie, of course, even if all of us have had many things to manage.
Odette became secluded, she related with Sophie and less with anybody else. They did some exploration of magic on their own. Indeed, the good thing was that Odette started to show more positive feelings towards Sophie’s pregnancy and her granddaughter. But she was very focused on exploring their new found Elvishness and less on solving practical issues regarding the situation after the child will be born. Michael and his mother started exerting pressure over them, mostly his mother, of legal action and things like that. Odette seemed less and less interested in those. In the end, they decided to just ignore them and get on with their lives. Things were already complicated enough to lose time and energy with them.
One night after doing our usual things, Odette remained for a glass of wine with me. As she drank a small sip, she said. ”I am becoming nocturnal myself, it seems. The Elves tend to be nocturnal in the myths, as I see.” ”You weren’t so in ancient days, as far as I know. But secrecy must have made you like this, when your kin became weaker and Humans stronger.” ”I don„t know, now that I know what I am, I look at the full moon in a different way now, there is a vibe there. I loved the night before, but now there is a difference. During the day I do not feel like this.” ”You know, I have seen Full Elves with my own eyes, even some High Elves. You know how they felt when I looked at them? I realized this now, after meeting you and Sophie. They looked very much like a full moon. Their light, their halo and the rest. But more than this.” ”Will we look like this? Like living full moons?” ”I do not know how much of a High Elf ancestorship you are. I have seen lesser Elves who did not shine at all. Still beautiful to look at, nonetheless.”
Odette gave a sigh, as she looked at the moon. ”I remember looking at the moon that night. When it was all over.” She looked at me, gave another sigh, and said: ”Am I sorry for going that day? No. They wanted to go.” So Odette started the story:
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I was checked out of the hospital a few days later. By then, already in the city of Timișoara the first uprisings leading to the Romanian Anticommunist revolution of December 1989. It was not official, but we knew from Europa Liberă radio and from word of mouth. Already several people were killed and their dead bodies brought to Bucharest, to be burned in the same crematory near the Tineretului park. I kept myself in my house, pretty much still in shock and expecting agents of the Securitate to come and take me again to continue burning my brain. The only one of my friends I was able to tell some of the things I went through was Philip.
It was the 20th of december, I think, I was alone in my house. I heard the doorbell. It was pretty insistent. In the end, my mother decided to go to the door and open it. I was shaking, expecting to see some agents, but no. In my living room there were the Duke and Razorblade. When I first saw them, I could not find any words to speak. Razorblood looked at me sharply, as she liked to, and said: ”So, I was told you chirped some things about your friends at the Securitate. And about me and my people. Shame on you!” My first reaction was to mumble: ”I did not…” and shake, but the Duke came between me and Razorblade: ”Stop it! She has been through a lot. I accepted to be here with you on the condition of being gentle!” I broke out in tears and sat on the sofa, covering my eyes with my hands. I said: ”Yes, she is right. I said about all of you! Shame on me!”
The Duke came to comfort me, as I was crying. Indeed, his hands felt really cold, and I remembered I felt some anxiety with his pale face that was close to my own. Perhaps he really was a Vampire. But he was my friend and I betrayed him, like I did for the others. ”I do not think it is you who are guilty, as I do not think you said anything out of your free will or to gain something, like many people do.” He signaled Razorblade to be silent, as he continued gently: ”But please tell us what happened and what you said. We need to know.” I looked at him and said, still crying: ”Aren’t you afraid they shall come for you as well, if I tell you? Heck, they may come for me again again due to telling you.”
Razorbalde replied: ”We take our chances. Do not worry about us. And if you are afraid of them; I think it is unlikely they shall grant you too much attention now. The country caught fire at Timișoara. Soon it will be here, in Bucharest, as well. There are rumors about a group that wants to bring down the president Ceaușescu.” That was news for me, so I asked: ”You heard something? Whom?” ”Probably a part of Communist Party and the Securitate who are also sick of all. They say there is somebody called the Woodcracker who is supposed to be the next leader. There is news about hundreds, if not thousands of foreigners who entered the country, for whom they entered, we do not know. Now, tell us what happened.” The Duke said gently: ”Please, we need to know what they know about us.” ”Ok, let me gather my thoughts a bit.” I answered.
I told them, probably better than I told you, being fresh, but I stopped at the moment when the man ordered me to say those things about me and my family. The Duke seemed sympathetic and considered it enough. I told them, in the end, that I do not remember anything after that point. They saw the bandages on my head anyway. The Duke seemed really worried about the whole thing and looked at the ground. Razorblade looked at him and said: ”I told you were asking for trouble. I smelled it.” ”Come one, there was no way we could have known. And, besides, it is not like she had anything serious to tell them, anyway…” Razorblade turned to me and asked in a much gentler tone: ”Anything else you remember? Anything at all?” ”Not really.” I answered. ”Ok then, thank you.” she said.
She looked at the Duke: ”You screwed it already. If things blow out in the streets, how I think they would, I expect you to be there, all of you. Except for her, as she is in this state.” I looked into the eyes of Razorblade and, although she was calm and seemed to be sympathetic, there was something, I do not know how to say, wild about her, in her eyes. Animalistic, like I would not like to startle her, like you would not like to startle a bear or a tiger. But yet, no bear or tiger could be scarier to me now like the machine that drilled in my skull.
After they left, the rest of the day and the night my consciousness kept tormenting me for what all, that I should have been silent, that I could have ”played dead”. Some things were silly, of course but I felt something heavy on me, I do not remember what. I dreamed some blurry things in the previous nights, in that night the little sleep I had was tormented as well. I woke up pretty early in the morning of 21 december. Philip came to my door about 9 am. He was far sweeter, gentler than he’s ever been to me, brought some really expensive flowers and candy, and he massaged me. He told me Razorblade called us to be present at the great political rally at 12, near the headquarters of the Communist Party. She knew something was about to happen, that it is our duty to fight. For freedom, for the future. I was supposed to stay at home, since I was injured. I felt Philip was saying goodbye, with all this. I felt it. They were ready to die, like soldiers sent to battle. I remember starting to cry. Philip wanted to leave, so I pulled him back several times. It was like he would have wanted to cry, but could not. He gave one last hug, when the idea creeped into my head.
I asked Philip for a bit, I got dressed, got my boots on, the same boots, I even styled my hair a bit and put some makeup on. He wanted to stop me, but he couldn’t. I would not let this escape me, history was happening, also this was the only way I could ease my consciousness. He had to give in and accept. I left a goodbye note for my parents and went off. On impulse. Do I regret I left? I do. But also I do not.
We reached the Palace Square and we remained in the back of the crowd. There were other Goths as well, and a lot more Punk (They were much more in general population anyway.), metalheads and classical rockers a lot. Razorblade looked at me surprised when she saw me, with my bandages, and said, with her harsh cheekiness: ”It seems you really like to live it…” I noticed some vans parked close at the edges of the crowd, as we were gathered around. We were pretty close to the Kretzulescu church, in the back.
Well, some may be curious about the moment things broke out. From the vans a rumble started to be heard, like coming from stadium speakers. Screams, unreal screams started to be heard, mixed with real ones, as we noticed people started to attack each other in the crowd. There were a few seconds of not making sense of what was going on, I tried to look in the crowd. There were some young men, with buzz cut hair, dressed pretty casually, yet who looked a bit out of place. I remember I looked into the eyes of a random guy, who had brown hair and buzz cut, wearing a sweater. He stared for a few seconds blankly, and his eyes got blurry. I was blocked at first, then blended in the crowd.
I could hear Razorblade shouting, like giving orders. Philip grabbed me and pulled me in a group; I could hear the bullets. For a few moments of panic, regarding what I do not remember much, we were pushed towards Kretzulescu church, where the area around the church was empty (the historical buildings around were demolished to make room for some sort of park). and Militia officers started to fight and shoot. Philip held me close to him, until I managed to get my mind together. My heart started beating fast, I remember some two guys from the gang of Razorblade were close to us, I could see the Duke and Laura further back. I managed to whisper to Philip: ”His eyes got blurry… His eyes got blurry…” ”What?” he replied confused, as he tried to cover me with his jacket (Kind of a silly thing with the jacket, but he did his best, I guess.) and moved around. ”That guy’s eyes got blurry, when I looked at him…” It took him a few seconds to process what I meant, the proximity of a Militia officer who hit me on the back pretty bad made me run towards the Duke, Philip ran after me. A bullet passed near my ear, as I tried to signal to the Duke.
I hit someone sideways. I was pretty fiercely grabbed and put down on the grass. I heard Philip say: ”Stop it, it„s us!” The person I ran into was Razorblade. Her look was savage, as she put me to the ground, while I gave a moan. A few seconds were necessary for both of us to understand what was going on and her gaze to become more human-like. I managed to whisper: ”His eyes got blurry…” ”Who’s eyes?” she shook me, yet some of her anger was still there. ”A guy„s in the crowd… They were blurry, like then, I told you about it…” Razorblade had a clear change of expression, turning a bit pale. She brought me and signaled the Duke, who was not very far. As we managed to gather around, she said to the Duke: ”Odette saw a guy in the square… With those eyes she told us about.” ”Yeah, a guy’s eyes got blurry for a bit, like it was on the tram and when those from Securitate took me… They are here…” The Duke turned pale as well and looked at Razorblade. In a moment, she signaled us to get to the left, where Laura was among a larger group, where Militia uniforms were not visible.
(I think I can safely go over the things Odette told me about the next few hours, since it seems no significant details happened, much of the city turned into a war zone, the four of them took part in certain street fights with the military, maybe not as much as Razorblade and her gang, but I can say they were brave. People were killed close to them. Odette told me a lot of things, perhaps I shall share them sometime in the future. During that evening, after two of the friends of Razorblade were wounded, the four Goths were tired and went with Odette to her house on the I.C. Visarion street. They eventually went to sleep on the first floor of the building, on couches and armchairs, keeping the lights out and barricading the doors and windows.Bullets kept going, like little red dots outside. )
I think it was about 3 am, when I was woken up by Laura. The Duke and Philip were already watching through a crack of the wooden cardboard piece placed in the windows. She signaled me to be quiet. ”What is it?” ”There is a van outside.” Laura whispered. I went up and we went behind the guys. The Duke was looking really careful and troubled outside. The street was silent. ”I want to see what it is.” I said. ”Ok.”, said the Duke, ”be as quiet as possible and don’t stay long.” It was a grey van, with two men in. They seemed not to move at all and to keep guns tucked at chest levels, like waiting for a signal to act. It took about half an hour or so, so we kept looking outside. At some point, the men went down, they were in war gear, with helmets, they had their guns and started patrolling for about an hour on the sidewalk, in silence. Eventually, they went up in the van and left.
We did not dare to move until the sunrise. All the people in the house discussed and watched the streets. Around 7 am, a neighbor checked to see if we were alright, it seems the surrounding streets were clear. We waited until around 9 am, and we decided to go back to the streets.
(The four of them went back to the south and managed to see the helicopter of the president Ceaușescu, while leaving. As with many people then, the next hours were joyful, some celebrated, it seemed the political regime was changed. They got really relaxed and, as people entered the headquarters of the public radio broadcasting system, they decided to get there themselves and play some of their Goth music. Since they were on the Magheru boulevard, and the house of Odette was the closest, they turned north, towards it, to get the cassettes from there. A larger group joined, made of alternative people like punk or metalheads, but also just common people who got in the rush.)
We were close to the crossroad between Magheru boulevard and George Enescu Street. We were about 30 people in all. There was a guy in a leather jacket, with a small, poorly maintained beard. As I was humming to myself from Sisters of Mercy, the guy stopped and looked at me: ”You know, that tune sounds really good. What is it?” ”That is This Corrosion, from Sisters of Mercy.” ”I have an idea. I shall make some lyrics about Ceaușescu.” He started composing stuff, we all stopped, some started to cheer and bring contributions. In about five minutes, the new lyrics started to get a clear shape, as the night had finally come over the last remnants of sunlight. Me and that guy who’s name I never found out were under a street light, like in a spotlight, with the crowd around us.
Someone asked: ”I have a guitar. I live close by, we could get there and pick it up. ” Someone else said: ”Go for it! We shall wait.” I started to sing the new lyrics, in an almost euphoric state. I do not know how I was able to hear that faint metallic whistle, as I saw the red light. The bearded guy stopped in his tracks, his facial expression changed at once. As he tried to stay up, we became all silent at once. Blood started gushing out of his mouth, as he collapsed on the street. Blood poured. I started screaming, other women started to scream as well, people started to move chaotically.
Another red dot came from the west as well. More screams, I do not know if anyone was hit by this second bullet made someone say: ”Follow me! It came from across the street!” and most of us started running into the eastern segment of George Enescu street, towards Cosmonauților square (now called Lahovari square). Faint rumble was heard around us.
When we were close to where the statue is now, on the right, we saw a military Aro (a Jeep-like vehicle that is no longer produced), two soldiers wearing helmets and some sort of dark face paint. The guy who said he lived nearby, who wanted to bring his guitar, sat next to one of the soldiers, waving at us. I froze when I realized he was not waving himself, as a giant bullet hole was on his left eye socket and the whole jacket was covered in blood. The soldier held his neck to keep the body upright in one hand, and moved the right arm of the corpse with the other hand, like a puppet. As I screamed, he dropped the body and put the hand on his gun, pointing it towards me. For a second, I looked into his ruthless, stern eyes, as they got blurry. We all started running towards the north, in Calea Dorobanți as we heard the rumble coming towards us, coming from all sides.
Reaching the crossroads between Calea Dorobanți and the Dacia boulevard, some started running in all four senses. I would have turned left, towards home, if not for someone coming back from there, shouting: ”Bullets in the Romană square! They shoot!” The Duke shouted to all: ”People, stop! Let’s think about it! Where does all this come from? Stop and listen!” Many indeed stopped and listened. The rumble seems to come from the back, mostly, where we knew the soldiers were, but also from Romană, also something faint from the right side of the Dacia boulevard was heard so, without much thought, we decided to keep running north, on Dorobanți.
Reaching the next, smallest, crossroad, some went left and right. I wanted to turn left, once again since my home was not far, Philip stopped me and said, while he held me in his arms: ”This is too close to Romană, they are there. Too dangerous yet.” Behind us, we heard the rumble, and expected for the Aro vehicle to be here at once. But it did not seem to come close to us, we could not even see too clearly, fast enough, if it continued to pursue us. But none of us were really eager to go back and find out. The Beldiceau street came next, to the left, some wanted to get there, but they were stopped, since it led back to the Romană area. Yet, a girl went into it and left the group.
Next crossroad, it became chaotic, some wanted to get in different directions, we could not keep the group together, especially since we needed to decide on the spot. So, some went into one sense, some into another. I took left, finally, knowing a way to get back home without getting in the Romană area. Philip could not stop me, so he followed me. The Duke came towards Philip, perhaps wanting to stop him, but this made others follow him, including Laura, so a pretty large group ended up in the narrow Crăciun street. In the short term, this proved a good idea, since we slowed down the pace and talked about the situation.
”What is going on? Ceaușescu is gone. Who are they?” someone asked. The Duke said: ”Probably the Securitate. Who else?” ”What do they want?” ”I don„t know. It makes no sense. We need to stay alive, at least for now, until we can figure it all out. It is wonderful to be a hero, but a hero needs to find out who they fight with and for what. Otherwise, they waste their life for nothing.” Philip added: ”Where next? We hear the sound of shooting and bombing in the south, towards the center. North, east, west?” ”I think west, into the area of Victoriei square, is the worst idea, since there is the Victoriei palace, that is the headquarters of the government cabinet. Things could be really nasty there as well, like they are downtown, in the south. I suggest going north. Going east then, on Ștefan cel Mare, where Militia resides, probably not the best idea. But let’s reach the Ilie Pintilie boulevard first, see what is in there first.
National TV was already in control of the self proclaimed Revolutionary council, most people watched TV but us, being in the street, did not know what they said there. So, we were quite surprised, when we reached Căderea Bastiliei street, that there was a middle aged woman, with short hair in the street who was there, started screaming when she saw us and shouting: ”Here they are! The terrorists! They are those who shoot!” Several people opened the windows and started throwing things away. Even a brick landed in a guy„s head, bringing him down. A few screams, then few people come out in the street. The guy hit on the head was dead. They started shouting: ”The terrorists! Call the Militia, to take them!” We tried to talk to them, but it was no use, others came out of the houses, due to all the shouting. A mob started to form. To avoid things escalating, we backed down towards Ilie Pintilie. Some followed us.
We could have standed our ground, I do not know if it made any sense. I realized afterwards that all that was happening then was pointed to the ”terrorists” by those on TV. People were really scared and confused. We ran away from them, as they came, some armed with crowbars and other tools at us. They tried to bring other people with them, the mob was getting bigger, slowly. I was focused on getting away from them, I noticed the rumble pretty late, when we were in Ilie Pintilie already.
Like the downtown boulevards, Ilie Pintilie was, mostly, deserted. Somebody stopped and looked back, then shouted at us: ”Look back! Look back!” We looked back and, behind the mob, there was an Aro with two soldiers coming towards us. The mob was still on us, then the Duke shouted at them: ”Look back, you fools! There lie your terrorists!” Some of them looked back and stopped, then the rest followed. They joined us in the boulevard, as the vehicle approached us. From the east, another rumble. A military truck was coming. It had some load in it. It stopped close to us. The wounds in my temple started to hurt, and I felt the need to let my bandages down.
I could see the load of the truck. There were corpses. Covered in blood. On the top of the pile, there was the girl I had seen earlier going into the Beldiceanu street. People’s eyes bulged to all this, as screams started. The soldiers came with their guns towards us. Their green and black painted faces were a mixture of calm and cruelty. Their gear was smeared with symbols. As I looked at them, I started to hear whispers in my thoughts: ”Let go. You shall be terminated soon anyway. Let go. Let go. Let go. Let go.” My temples hurt more and more, as the wounds felt like some sort of fingers touched them. I had to remove the bandages. As I finished removing the last of them, the sensation in the wounds turned into some sort of vibration. Then they opened fire.
People started falling. All I could do was to run as fast as I could into the Roma street, over the boulevard. Some people ran in the same direction, being kind of the only possible way. Then I noticed Philip. He noticed me, looked into my eyes, then one bullet hit his chest. Then another bullet in the back. I screamed: ”Nooooo!” but there was nothing I could do. I kept eye contact with him, as he felt like drifting away. Perhaps this is my imagination, as the memory became distant and I revisited it over and over again. I could not move, I wanted to lie down, as the voices in my head kept saying, like a stream: ”Give up. This is it. Give up.” I barely noticed the Duke and Laura managing to come close to me, grab my arms and drag me forward. Several people followed.
I collapsed to the ground, once we reached the crossroad with Washington street. Laura stayed with me, and hugged me on the ground, as best as she could. The Duke remained with us, as most people started running in different ways. Some tried to get me off the ground, but I could not move. Only the rumble heard from somewhere made me rise up and let myself be walked by the two. We moved around in circles, on those streets, as the sound of guns was heard from time to time on the streets near us, but never too close. I was crying, but my tears muffled Laura„s chest. I could not run anymore, so we just walked those streets. In the end, we reached the Dorobanți square, where several streets met Calea Dorobanți.
I think my sobbing drew some attention, after all. As I finally sat down where the statue of Constantin Brâncuși is now, we heard a whisper. I raised my eyes and noticed one of the guys from the gang of Razorblade. He signaled us to follow him, and we complied. Already I was too tired to cry too loudly. We crossed Calea Doboranți towards what was, mostly, empty and, close to the entrance at the Dorobanți market, there was Razorblade, some of her peers, among a small crowd.
”What is going on?” she asked. The Duke replied: ”They killed Philip. We ran from Romană, the soldiers killed many.” ”We were called to defend the National Television (TVR) headquarters from those terrorists” she replied, ”then I was told the Woodcracker is in the streets, among those soldiers. No, there is a group who want to get power, now that Ceaușescu is gone. Those are not the supporters of Ceaușescu, they are something else. You heard they already bombed the downtown?” ”We have been on the streets since yesterday, we planned to go to the radio, they caught us on Magheru, close to Romană. There were soldiers who chased us. They already killed many, Philip was among them.” ”They killed some of us as well. They chase and shoot. I do not realize why and how, like they want to play with us.”
Military vehicles came and passed, from time to time. I felt the need to scratch my eyes, like some sort of black sparkles became visible in my vision. Something tried to make my wounds open, somehow. As what happened with Philip still felt unreal, a weird fatigue was creeping in. Like a faint layer of mist came over my eyes from time to time. At the same time, something alien to me grew stronger, bit by bit, making me stronger, in a way, but maybe becoming stronger on my behalf? Whispers in my thoughts kept telling me to comply. Comply to what?
”We could leave and get in the east, towards Floreasca. If all goes well, we shall pass Floreasca market, then near the Dinamo stadium and reach Barbu Văcărescu. Probably it’s all going to be clear there.” said the Duke.
”Ok, we will be safe. But what will be tomorrow? As it seems, the communists shall keep power, perhaps not the same communists on top, but from the same stock. And they could be worse than Ceaușescu. What we saw in the last hours shows precisely that. We can escape today, but they could hunt us down tomorrow. Ok, let’s say they shall not hunt us down, but how would it be our life? In fear and in chains, like it was to this day? No, I shall not take it. I shall go to the TVR headquarters and fight them.” ”Ok, how shall you fight them? With your bare hands?” ”If I must, I will. But we have something else. There are people there, and more are coming. We can tell them the truth. Those who claim to be representative of the people are, actually, the enemies, that we shall be prisoners tomorrow, if we do not defeat the imposters. We need to wake up the people. If the people are awake, they shall fall!” The last word fell like thunder. We all remained silent. A small breeze touched us. It was cold, like the coldness of death around and behind us, but it felt like an energy nudge.
I said: ”I shall come.” I wanted to avenge Philip, in a way, but also life felt senseless now, and dying for freedom made sense to me. I stood up and went to her. Others followed. The Duke remained on the spot, calm and sad, as the wind blew in his long, dark hair. ”We shall die and we shall be free.” said Razorblade, almost like a whisper. She started walking towards the headquarters of TVR, as it was close. Some people turned back.
As we finished crossing the Dorobanți square, the whispers in my thoughts got stronger. Yet still like a swishing. I could feel something in the wind, it felt like some sort of invisible birds that came and went. As we walked further, it felt like I was also drifting from one world to another.
The National Television broadcasting system was on the location of a former park, most of it was made of studios like airshed, in the top north corner it was the headquarters, a 12 level building, similar to an apartment block. Calea Dorobanți seemed deserted. Razorblade placed us in the middle of the street, where some trees were present. Rumble started to be heard in the distance, behind, but also in front of us. Rhythmic, like the swish in my head. Rhythmic, like the pulsating wounds in my skull. The fog on my mind was getting stronger, and those bird-like sensations started to take shape. First, for a split of a second, something darker than the night around us. Then, a second, and their shape got clearer. And bigger. A cold fear descended deeper inside me, as the shapes became clearer and bigger.
I needed to talk to someone. I went to the Duke, and told him as best as I could, as I found expressing what I felt pretty difficult. Even now, it feels difficult. He gave his worried gaze and replied calmly: ”Do you hear something else? Think about it, please.” ”It is rhythmic, like… Like a chant.” Indeed, the swish turned into some sort of chant. Like some sort of hellish symphony taking shape. ”I feel like I am drifting away from this world.” The Duke remained silent. I realized that, if this thing continues, I shall soon not be able to see properly, this world at least. But I started seeing other things. Dark things that I felt I became more and more connected with.
Eventually, several military vehicles stopped in front of us, blocking the way. Razorbalde signaled us to stop. She went further, towards the vehicles. Soldiers like the ones we saw before came out. But this time, they looked different. What was flesh and clothes were fading, and some sort of dark halo was around them. I could see on their clothes and on the vehicles some symbols, I was not sure if they were physical or part of the new reality it opened up to me. It felt very much like when I saw the Charming Man without eyes, but this time the two types of sight blended. Another group of vehicles stopped behind us among the soldiers, the truck with dead bodies we saw earlier. They gathered around us in a strange formation. In circles. The voices on my mind started to become more clear. They said, among other things: ”Comply. Comply. You shall be given.” The soldiers started a weird circle choreography and said things in a language and with voices that sounded less and less Human. It all unified with the chant.
Dread was coming over the people, some started to move in a chaotic way, like something gave a cold fear, a fear I felt myself. Some would have tried to escape, but the soldiers with their guns were all around. Razorblade shouted: ”Stand your ground! They shall not get us!”
They stopped dancing. but they kept chanting, if this is the proper word. We waited in silence as the door to one of the military vehicles opened and someone stepped out. Two soldiers came with him, one on his left, one on the right. I heard whispers around me: ”The Woodcracker!”
An old man, wearing a sweater and a jacket over it, walked towards us. His hair was laid back, with heavy oil on it. His expression was hard to read, something very calm, yet very angry. A hatred very contained, yet so visible. I think the best description would be like the contempt you have towards a filthy cockroach that comes up at night in your freshly cleaned house or like towards an annoying mosquito that wants to pinch your beloved child, a cockroach or mosquito you would be really satisfied crushing, but on an enormous scale, if it makes sense. Around him was a dark halo greater than around any of the soldiers, that gave chills to look at. His eyes were like chasms of darkness. He chanted in his own way, making my ears and my head hurt.
People started panicking, some tried to escape the encircle, but they were shot on the spot. The Woodcracker started raising his hand in the air, showing them being the nucleus of some sort of wings of darkness, a darkness that gained power as the chanting progressed and the world around was fading. The voices in mind almost covered my own thoughts: ”You all shall be given to darkness. Let go! Let go” Let go!” and I knew we were destined to be sacrificed to some dark power. All this fading and shifting came with a cosmic hopelessness and fatality I can never, truly, describe. Razorblade came close to him, some faint power of light arose in her and shouted: ”You shall not get us! We are free and we shall die free! You can kill our bodies, but you can not kill our souls and you can not get them. If we are a sacrifice, we are for freedom and for our brothers and sisters, not that you shall gain power over all of us.” The darkness grew heavier, the material world was disappearing, yet a very discrete power was opposing this. I thought to myself: ”If this goes on, I shall not see anything around me. Perhaps I shall forget even that I was alive, once.
The soldiers started moving again and, among the unbearable noise of chanting, voices and vibrations, I could hear bullets coming out. People around me started to fall, one by one. I saw Laura being struck in the chest and falling on her back. Razorblade was hit in the chest twice, but she was still standing. A last shout: ”We are not your sacrifice! We are free! And our sacrifice shall bring the freedom of tomorrow! And you…! You and your kind shall fall! Freedom!”. Then she became quiet and fell on her knees, then on her back.
The moment Razorblade fell, it was like the power I felt in her grew stronger and more sensible, like a gush, a calm, steady wind, bringing down a mist. A sweet hope touched my heart and I felt like coming back to the world. A bullet hit my shoulder, but little I cared about it. I discovered myself in front of the Duke. Blood was on his face, on his clothes, he was calm. I looked into his eyes. Death was near for all of us, but we were not defeated. I prayed for mercy. Mercy for me and for my fellow people there. A second bullet hit my leg and I fell to the ground. I kept praying. The Duke shed a tear as he looked at me, then he knelt down, then another bullet hit him in the back and he fell over me.
First, it was numbness. Then this numbness became peaceful. The guns were silent. The footsteps of the soldiers were heard around me. I kept my eyes closed and barely breathed. I felt the wet smell of the pavement, a dirty, wet pavement. Material pavement. The soldiers checked in silence some people who still seemed to be alive on the ground and gave them a bullet, to make sure they were dead. I knew they could find me any moment and it would be over. I prayed and tried not to move at all. A soldier checked the Duke, he was dead, another one came and checked another person, next to me, then both left.
Slowly, I began to hear words. The soldiers spoke. Harsh words, about how dumb another soldier was in taking the bodies to the truck. I realized the whispers in thoughts were gone. The chant was gone. No rumble. Just a giant sadness and a giant peace. A giant emptiness in the heart and a giant, unexplainable, hope. After a while, it was my turn to be grabbed, pulled up, then tossed into the truck. I played dead as best as I could, not daring to open my eyes or breathe too visibly. The soldiers checked verbally, but pretty Human, that all was ok and the truck left, as other vehicles. I remember something about the clean up team coming soon.
I dared to open my eyes faintly, as my head was not covered by any corpse and, fortunately, I was pretty close to the top of the body pile. Slowly, although pretty hard, I made my way up to the top and looked around. There was no soldier near the pile, only driving and only another military vehicle in front of the truck. I could breathe and see around. It was Odăii highway, at the outskirts of Bucharest. We passed the Străulești cemetery complex, into the east. The speed was quite big, but I knew I had to take a leap, otherwise I would be over soon. I crawled to the edge, as the pain in my leg and back grew stronger. Enduring the pain was hard, but trying to be silent was enduring the pain was harder. I do not know how I was able to push my body over the edge and let myself fall to the asphalt, even managing to protect my head. I did not care if I shall get my back broken and get paraplegic for the rest of my life, it will still be alive.
The impact was harsh. Really harsh. As the truck moved away, I started moaning. My whole body ached immensely, I could not bear the pain anymore. It took me a while to check if I was able to move my arms and feet, I could. I crawled to the edge of the highway and waited for morning to come.
Finally, at sunrise, a passing driver discovered me and took me to the hospital. Fortunately, he didn’t call the Miltia or something, he took a great risk for me. I kept in touch with him for years to come.
Days passed and I was checked out of the hospital, there was a new age in my country. The former president was executed, a new government was in place. It seems Razorblade was right, former members of the communist party and of Securitate formed the new regime, only that it declared itself democratic as a facade. Many fellow citizens fell for it. No, the Woodcracker was not the new president. I remember several months later I saw him on TV, being invited on a talk show as a political analyst. Unfortunately, he was never convicted, he managed to keep a respectable public persona and never got involved in official politics. He looked Human on TV, but each time I saw him I got cold chills. He died in the late 2000s.
—
Those were the three stories of Odette I wanted to share with you. They were edited by me, placed in order. Some details were kept out on purpose. She told a lot more, of course, during those nights, but they are other kinds of things. Some too personal to share.
That is it for now. Sorry for abruptly finishing but I am pretty tired, it took me a very long time to put all those down and post it.
See you soon.
I blow you a kiss, your dearly,
Helena