The Gigahruschevka Sun

The dark gloom was slowly dissipating - the spot of light before his eyes grew brighter and brighter, bringing Andrei back to a world where darkness reigned almost always and everywhere. As he regained consciousness, he began to feel pain in his head, arms, legs, and back. The back of his head gave off a sharp pain, and every movement was accompanied by an agonizing groan. The man tried to move and couldn't. He tried to open his eyes and look around. His legs were bound with rope, as were his hands, which were also suspended from a hook under the top. He was in a large and relatively tall room with rows of long lamps under a ceiling of uneven concrete slabs. Along the walls were dirty iron toolboxes with parts of machinery lying on them. A long concrete pit was visible in the center, and in the far corner stood something that greatly surprised Andrei - an engine suspended on a chain. An automobile engine. And not a rusty one, turned into a solid piece of slag, but cleaned, polished in some places and, apparently, even oiled. For the first time in his life he was in a garage. Andrei had never had the chance to see a car and for a second he felt a certain joy that he would finally be able to do so. He slowly turned around hoping to see the car, but unfortunately there was no car behind him. Although at the far end there was a gate designed just for vehicles.

Andrei jerked his slackened arms, testing the rope and the hook at the top for strength, causing the chains on which the hook hung to jingle. The door swung open, and a dark, hunchbacked silhouette appeared on the threshold.

"Woke up, then," someone said in a young, nasally voice. - "Good, good. They'll be coming to see you soon."

The door closed. Andrei jerked again with his hands, which were firmly fixed on the hook, then tried to move his legs, but they didn't move either. He only swayed comically around his axis, which would have been laughed at if anyone had been in the room. He stopped his futile attempts and thought for a moment. The last memory echoed painfully in his head - he had climbed into a back doorway in the wall, and at the other end a blow to the back of his head awaited him. As the realization of what had happened came to him, the man felt a surging sense of resentment and anger.

" Bastard..." - Andrei said through gritted teeth and closed his eyes. - "Nasty bastard..."

He bent down and tried to look at the wristwatch, but he couldn't see the time. He looked around the room again and noticed two bags - his and Mikhail's - lying on one of the technical crates. Apparently, their contents were still intact. Andrei twitched his hands nervously again, sighed heavily with hopelessness, and began to think. Having worked at the factory for many gigacycles, he had solved a huge number of atypical problems and used to consider himself a fairly intelligent man. However, his current situation told him otherwise. He jerked his arms a few times - more out of annoyance than to actually try to free himself.

" What a fool I am," he whispered in indignation. - "What an idiot..."

A short time later the door opened and the room erupted in a flurry of sounds. Two satisfied men were laughing, carrying Mikhail's body under their arms, his head hanging limply and his feet dragging rustling on the concrete floor. Behind them walked another man with an important look. That one was apparently a supervisor and spoke in an appropriate manner.

" ...He's always been a stupid degenerate. Can't he do math? Why should I change his son for meat," he jerked his head at Andrei, "if we now have his son, and meat, and a traitor. Three at once. And how could he possibly think to come back here and negotiate anything?"

As he approached Mikhail, the man gave him a sharp blow in the stomach, causing Andrei's guide to crouch and groan. The familiar silhouette of a hunchbacked guy appeared in the doorway. He followed the chief, closed the door behind him and stood near the passage, constantly casting a cowardly glance at the important face.

"Hang this garbage on the hook next to it," the leader ordered.

Andrei regarded this company with frightened eyes. Although they were all different in age and build, they were united by the presence of black spots on their hands, blisters and dark bags under their eyes. Two men with quick skillful movements bandaged Michael's hands and feet, one of them lowered the hook with the help of a remote, his partner hooked the captive's hands and the hook went up to the ceiling. Their leader, with a wicked smile on his face, looked alternately at Mikhail and Andrei.

" I love paintings like this," he said smugly. - "Makes me feel prosperous. I'd even say wealth."

Their chief in a dark cassock with the symbol of the Black Gods on his chest was small in stature, stocky and balding, but not because of age - on his head, as well as his arms and neck, black spots of eternally dying flesh were visible. Soon a distinctive odor reached Andrei, which made him cringe.

"What are you squirming at, huh?" - the leader addressed him. - "You should be glad you're in the Church of the Black God. Confess, reveal your sins to us, cleanse your soul."

"What sins?" - sincerely asked the frightened Andrei.

"Do you believe in the Black God?" - The bald man lifted his heavy gaze.

The captive swallowed dryly and looked around at those present, searching for an answer.

" I guess so." - he lied.

The chief laughed a slow, rolling laugh, followed by his subordinates. When the chief stopped, his subordinates also stopped, although they still had evil smiles on their faces.

"You lie, godless one. You don't believe. That's what you confess. And then we'll decide what to do with you," he reasoned aloud. - "Or we'll do the rite of purification. Or you can go to purgatory with the sinners."

"How about you just let me go?" - Andrei asked naively, which caused another explosion of laughter.

"No," the preacher replied in a calm voice. - "We won't let you go, of course. Since you came to church, it is your destiny. So God has destined you to be here," he glanced at the other prisoner. - "By the way, share with us why you came here with him?" - he nodded toward Mikhail.

Andrei thought for a few seconds about how to answer. He was desperately afraid of saying the wrong thing and, of course, hoped that he would be spared a bad fate.

"I've come for my son," Andrei replied after some thought. - "His name is Kolya. He came to you. His son came here, Sashka, and so did mine. Is he here? Can I see him? I want to see my son. His name is Kolya."

"Son. Sashka. Kolya. Misha. Masha..." - enigmatically said the chief and spat on the floor. - "All the young ones have been sent to the cathedral."

"To the cathedral?" - Andrei repeated fearfully. - "Why?"

" For the initiation rites. The time has come. Soon the young ones will have a feast."

"What holiday?"

"A celebration of the soul's reunion with the Black God."

"How's that?" - The prisoner did not stop, worrying not for himself, but for his son.

The bald man glanced at Andrei and smiled. His charges, always looking at the older man, noticed the change of mood and also bared their teeth in a silly grin.

"How curious you are," he took a step towards them to get a better look at the 'meat'. - "Whose are you going to be anyway? Do you work at the research institute?"

" No, come on," Andrei shook his head, "what research institute? I'm from the pipe-rolling plant. We make pipes. Three, five..."

"Shut up, slave," the chief ordered in a tired voice and wrinkled his nose. - "Better think about what you'll say at confession. Explain why you didn't believe in Chernobog."

He looked at Andrei for a few more seconds, rubbed his neck with his fingers in thought and turned to his subordinates.

"Bring the communication terminal here. Hurry up!" - They nodded low and quickly headed for the exit. Then he turned to the hunchback. - "And you bring me a chair."

In a few seconds he was already sitting and silently looking at the prisoners. Andrei's mind was spinning with questions, but he did not dare to voice them. Mikhail, hanging next to him, moaned from time to time, attracting the attention of the chief and the hunchback, who smiled contentedly.

"Filthy scum," the man in charge said and grimaced as he looked at the unconscious Mikhail.

" Excuse me, why do you call him that?" - Andrei asked, trying to make conversation.

" Because he's a carrion, a scum, a traitor," the blackguard replied calmly.

" What's your name? My name is Andrei."

The leader looked at the prisoner and smiled crookedly.

" Artem Pavlovich."

" Artem Pavlovich, why do you call him a traitor?" - From despair, Andrei tried to appear friendly and establish contact with the one who had complete power over him.

" He betrayed the Black God, he left us," Artem Pavlovich spat in Mikhail's direction. - "He will regret it. Remorse will come. I told him back then," he held a finger up, "that his addiction to the bottle would lead to no good. God doesn't forgive that kind of addiction. There's not enough room in the soul to hold both the booze and our faith. But he's a fool. And so are you."

"Why?"

"Got involved with a scum like that, trusted him, and the scum just traded you for his son," he said with a hard stare. - "Did you think you were going to come here, take your son by the hand and walk back?"

"I don't know," Andrew replied and swallowed dryly. - "I guess I did. Thought I'd walk back with him."

The door opened again and two men rolled a communications terminal on a cart into the room. They placed it near the entrance and began to connect the wires to the connectors on the wall. When the screen lit up, the chief blackguard rose heavily from his chair and walked toward the terminal. There was a clatter of keys, beeping of electronics, dial tone, rustling, quiet voice, rustling again, voice again... Andrew closed his eyes, trying to listen better to the conversation between the blackguard and the other end of the wire, but it was too quiet and incomprehensible. At some point, the bald man stepped away from the screen and rolled the terminal closer to the captives, apparently so that the camera would capture their faces. Andrei tried to see the image on the screen, but only someone's dark silhouette was visible. Then he closed the technique again with his broad back and continued the conversation. After a minute the communication session ended.

"Take him back," he ordered his two underlings and headed for the exit after them.

Humpy suddenly became lively and addressed the chief in a quiet voice.

" Can we..." - the next words were too quiet and incomprehensible.

Blackbeard nodded and roughly brushed the hunchback aside, but for some reason he broke into a satisfied smile. When the chief had gone, the hunchback closed the door and almost ran to the iron boxes. There he began to rummage through the bags with sudden frantic movements and to pull out the contents into the light. He almost shrieked as he clutched the pistol in the palm of his hand. Lucky lifted up his shirt and tucked it behind his belt, where a huge scabbard was already hanging. Then he took a can of canned food out of his bag and opened it with his big knife. Using it instead of a spoon, he shoveled the meat into his mouth and looked at the prisoner.

"Delicious meat," he said in a gnasal voice, and smiled predatorily. - "You'll be delicious meat too!"

As he ate the contents of the can, he looked at the prisoner and smiled sinisterly. Finished with the canned food, he tossed the tin aside and headed for the exit. When the door closed, Andrei sighed heavily, wrinkled his nose and jerked the hook with anger, making the chains jingle. The resentment made him want to cry.

A while later, Mikhail moaned. He shook his head and mumbled. He, too, was regaining consciousness and, like Andrei, tried in vain to move his bound hands and feet. Andrei waited with hidden anger for the moment when his guide opened his eyes. He groaned, wrinkled his nose and tried to lift his eyelids.

"Damn it..." - murmured Mikhail. - "Everything hurts..."

"Bastard," the deceived man cursed softly at first, then added louder. - Bastard. Bastard!

" Why are you yelling, you idiot?" - Mikhail wrinkled his nose. - "My head hurts."

" You're a bastard, you bastard!" - I heard an aggrieved shout. - "You brought me here for a trade!"

" Well, yes," replied the guide calmly, and cast a brief glance at Andrew, "I thought I'd swap you for my son. As you can see, it hasn't worked out yet."

" And you... You... So calm?" - he did not know what to say. - "You're scum!"

" No more than you are," Mikhail squeezed his eyes shut for a few seconds, trying to get rid of the cloudiness in his eyes.

" Me why?!"

"Because you're an idiot," replied the guide in his usual manner.

"Are you out of your mind?! You brought me here! And you call me a scum!"

"Don't fuss, you fool," Mikhail grumbled again, but already because of the annoying interlocutor.

"What to do now? How to get out?" - Almost panting from anger and fear ranted Andrei.

"Don't fuss," Mikhail answered calmly and said nothing more.

Andrei looked around the garage, hoping to find something that could help them. His gaze stopped on the engine. He turned around once more, as if the car could have appeared there unnoticed.

" What if..." - he bit his lip, mulling over the thought. - "Isn't that a garage? So they have transportation?"

Mikhail slowly raised his head and looked at Andrei for a few seconds. Then he shook his head and clucked.

"Decided to escape from here in a car?" - The latter said doomedly.

"Yeah, it's supposed to be fast, isn't it?"

"And where are you going?" - After a second's delay Mikhail asked.

"Somewhere! From here...!" - he ran his eyes over the face of his interlocutor.

" Here you are..." - he didn't voice the swear word. - "The tunnel from here leads to the cathedral and nowhere. Which one of those places are you going to? We don't even know how to navigate it."

"Well, there's got to be a way, right?"

" No way," he jerked his head oddly, then turned on his axis with difficulty. - "So there's no car!..." - he concluded disappointedly. - "What an idiot you are."

"So how do we get out of here!" - Andrei asked insistently.

" I don't know," the man answered honestly, "we're probably screwed. I'm sure I am. They'll send us to the sinners for meat."

"What sinners?" - Mikhail was silent for half a minute, and Andrei raised his voice. - "What sinners?!"

" Sinners," repeated the guide, "a man is dipped in black slime. If he does not die, he begins to mutate. Sometimes he changes outwardly beyond recognition, sometimes he goes mad. A man becomes an animal. They're driven by hate and hunger. They suffer so much pain that only anger saves them. They are tortured for a while so that they remember the Black Gods and fear them. And then they let them out on the floors to clean them from the other freaks."

"What freaks?"

" The ones just like them. Sinners. Or self-selected mutants. Or liquidators, if they show up. Sinners attack everyone," - while Andrei silently imagined horrible pictures of people mutilated by slime, his interlocutor continued. - "But that's only in case of bad luck, you'll be transferred to sinners."

"And with the good?" - Andrei asked with hope in his voice.

"They can send you to communion."

"What's that?" - He was both curious and scared.

"The same black slime is smeared, but in smaller quantities. They also mutate, but most of the time it's not as critical. Have you seen the black spots on their bodies?" - he shook his head toward the door. - "Those are just slime marks."

" What's that for? I don't want to!" - Andrei shook and shook his head.

"They won't ask you, you idiot. They'll dip you in a vat of black shit, and then let it be. Maybe you'll go crazy, maybe you'll get some powers."

"I don't want to, I don't want to!" - shouted Andrei, shaking the hook on which he was hanging.

The door to the room opened and a hunchback appeared in the doorway.

" Meat, don't shout!" - he ordered, and for the sake of convincing showed a huge knife.

When the door slammed shut, there was silence, interrupted only by Michael's occasional moans and Andrei's quiet sobs.