Fear of the Dark

Though the lamps in the coastal park were deployed densely, they formed blurs in the thick tree crowns under which nothing but the vague outlines of the dark trunks could be seen.

“Why should we leave the car?” – Yana whispered while hurrying on the alley.

She knew that the creepy creatures go out only at night and felt the cold sweat on her back just when thinking what could happen if they smell her. She had met them not only once and those meetings were not very pleasant. Moreover – they could be deadly to her though she had escaped them so far.

“Calm down” – Gennady answered. – “We haven’t noticed them so far, even you.”

“Quiet” – she strangled him but it was clear that those creatures were not affected by noise, sounds, even a human voice.

They were moved by another thing and she knew very well what it was. The smell of blood. That impalpable and almost mysterious smell that attracted the bloodthirsty scum that was her hell.

“It’s just your imagination that makes you think you’ve been marked in any way.”

“My imagination?” – she raised her voice but continued silently – “You want to tell me that what has happened to me so many times is only in my imagination?”

Her eyes shone in the dark and the boy felt her anger but only chuckled:

“No, but perhaps it has already been blown over. Even if you had been marked, as you think, even if they had pointed you out as their victim, maybe it’s over because of aging.”

“No way!” – she snapped at him. – “It’s over! I wish it could be over like that.”

“And where do you know it from? Here, I’ve been knowing you for two years but nothing happened to you” – the boy insisted and spread his arms. – “Well, some of those vampires have appeared but nobody attacked you in a way you describe it.”

“Fluke!” – she shook her head and started walking even faster.

They turned on another alley and heard the silent murmur of the brook that passed through the park and down, through the bleak beach flowed into the sea.

“Well, yes. Probably when you age, your blood isn’t as attractive to them as it used to be” – he tried to calm her down.

“You want to tell me that I’m old, don’t you?” – she looked at him.

“Oh... no!” – Gennady sighed and put his arm around her shoulder. – “Why don’t you want to accept what is obvious? They don’t chase you anymore. Probably, they have found another victims who…”

“Don’t explain it to me!” – the girl interrupted. – “Instead of clattering, you had to take the car and not to make us pass through such a wilderness. You know that such places are full of them.”

“Well, we both decided to walk some to that bar on the beach and to shake a leg.” – the boy spread his arms. – “And why didn’t you take…”

Noise spread above them. They raised their heads but saw only the shadow of a little bat who flew in the darkness.

“You don’t know what it is” – Yana sighed. – “You don’t know what it is to feel how they attack you, how you run but they follow you, how they stuck into you, to feel your own blood running down your skin, to feel suffocated to death, how you die but you can do nothing...”

“Well, well, I believe you” – the boy felt almost physically the goosebumps on her body and decided not to contradict her.

He only teased her in that way and that did not make the situation better. He wished he could find a way to make his girlfriend relax and calm down at least a little. “And there’s a chance she doesn’t imagine it and what she tells me to be the truth?” – he thought while walking by her. They crossed the little bridge almost running when suddenly she froze.

“Here they are” – she whispered. – “I can hear them. They’re coming.”

“I can hear nothing” – Gennady lowered his voice.

“Of course you can’t. You’ve never been like me” – she was looking around nervously. – “I’ve developed almost supernatural senses for all those years.”

The boy tried to answer something but Yana ran down the alley. He hardly reached her. She was running to the lights of the roadway beyond the park.

“Not there!” – he yelled. – “Probably the light attracts them.”

“No, it doesn’t” – Yana was out of breath. – “The light has nothing to do with them. They follow me. They’re a lot” – she looked around.

Gennady took a quick look back instinctively but it was pointless. He knew that they were invisible. The girl had already started running through the meadow.

“Don’t! There could be more of them here” – he cried out after her but she did not pay any attention to him.

He was running over the meadow, his ankles were caught by weeds here and there, he stepped on the roots shown above the ground and managed to hold her when she tripped over. They kept running to the roadway – the parking-lot was beyond it.

He shuddered when she crossed the road without looking around. Fortunately, there were not any cars but after all he took a look aside and then he saw them – enormous and scented blood. He reached Yana, opened the car door, they slipped into the car and slammed the doors.

“Awfully!” – she was breathing heavily. – “Finally! And we had to go by car not to leave it at the parking-lot, really.”

“Agree but you don’t forget your bag next time” – the boy answered while she was going through it.

He leaned back and turned on the player. They heard from speakers:

Fear of the dark, Fear of the dark,

I have a constant fear of something’s always near.

Fear of the dark, Fear of the dark,

I have a phobia that someone’s always there.[1]

“Take that song off. It’s nasty” – Yana snapped, took out a flask, threw her bag on the backseat, opened the cork and passed it to him.

“The song is nice” – Gennady chuckled while she was squirting her skin hard. He looked at the little bottle and sighed: – “Well, the allergy, however, isn’t.”

The label said: “Mosquito repellent”.

---

[1] Fear of the Dark – a song from Iron Maiden.

~~~~~~~~~
Translated by: Vessislava Savova

Explorers

“All the systems fully operational. The engines work normally.”

“The radio communication is clear as well as the radar.”

“Great. Did you check the oxygen, John?”

“Yes, everything is operational.”

The two explorers looked back at the mothership which was growing smaller imperceptibly, turning into a white flake, raised and descent by the stretched blue moveable hills.

“Close the hatch, it is time to dive” – the project manager said and the two of them settled themselves on the seats in front of the control panels.

The submarine – one almost miniature miracle of the technology – had everything necessary for the successful fulfillment of the mission which supposed two-hour diving at more than three thousand and two hundred fifty meters of depth, three hours of exploratory job and two more hours and a half for floating up. The two explorers’ target was one of the volcanos of the Mid-Ocean Ridge, that swept mainly hot sulfur, carbon dioxide, and other poisonous gases from their depths. The latest measurements made by their scientific group had stated that the water temperature around the crater reached a hundred and ten degrees Celsius but the risk of a recent eruption was almost zero.

According to the madcap for many people theory by professor Cameron, who had been researching the biodiversity of the ecosystems in the Atlantic Ocean around the peaks of the underwater volcanoes turned the ocean bottom into an underwater mountain chain, that halved it from north to the south, undiscovered yet microorganisms existed, for more than ten years. One of the professor’s main arguments was that shrimp colonies that obviously had to eat something existed near the volcanic cones, under the craters that erupted glowing gases. Most of Cameron’s colleagues dismissed the theory as crazy, with the undoubtable argument that there was not a single microorganism able to survive at that temperature and poisonous environment. Only John – his friend since the childhood and a prominent volcanologist, a madcap like him – believed him wholeheartedly and joined the expedition willingly; moreover, it would let him make exceptional of their kind explorations of the bottom volcano and geological structures.

They needed a bit less than two years until the little submarine was build. It had to meet the numerous conditions. They needed also a few more months till they mastered the skill to rule that rather high-technologically scientific instrument than a vehicle but the Day of their Truth had come.

The two explorers were shivering with excitement to see the ocean bottom at the light of the powerful floodlights but meanwhile their stomachs sank when thinking about the millions tones of water that was left behind them.

“We begin the descent” – Cameron murmured.

The cape slightly angled and while one of the men was following the movement direction, the other one was careful not to let the submarine careen.

At first, the golden flashes of the water surface, watched from bellow, and the fish that passed along the small hatches from time to time, created the pleasant feeling of a journey. However, gradually, the darkness among them started gaining density until finally the only spot of light among the gross darkness was the one of the floodlights, the two lamps above their heads and somehow relaxing blue spreading from the little screens and instruments on the panel.

During their training, the two scientists had managed to dive to a depth big enough but had not overcome the feeling of being in a coffin yet. This feeling was reinforced by the burdensome realizing of the fact that the trainings had already been behind their back and then they could rely only on their own skills.

“What depth are we at?” – John asked and Cameron murmured:

“Five hundred and twenty meters.”

The biologist’s voice echoed deafly in the narrow room. The world as if had stayed in some other dimension or rather they had tuned out to be in some nonentity of darkness. The only thing that reminded about the reality existence was the connection with the mothership that had been left some far, far above them.

“A thousand meters” – Cameron reported a while ago, rubbing his chin while gazing at the map and comparing the statements from the three-dimensional graphics of the relief far under them that had been modeled by the sonar.

John felt it like hours had passed since they had left the shipboard but in fact a bit more than thirty minutes had passed.

“Do you really think there could be life down there?” – the volcanologist said not so much in order to get an answer but to break the deafened rumbling of the engines that made the silence stand out more and more and to press them into it.

 “I don’t know...” – Cameron mumbled. – “I have told you; there is a great possibility to find some unknown organisms that had developed or rather that have kept their capability to live in such conditions. After all, you know it not worse than me that the conditions around the craters resemble the ones when Earth life was established largely. Can you imagine it to find organisms that have stayed unchanged since that time?”

“It would be a great deal” – John joked but his words sunk into the ocean’s silence.

“Two thousand meters, the lowering continues normally” – Cameron reported and the information was confirmed by the ship when suddenly something massive ran against the submarine.

“What was that?” – the biologist made buggy eyes.

“A monster?” – John hardly whispered when an enormous tentacle emerged at the light of the floodlights, pushed the blanket up and grandma Nadya bent over the destroyed wall of the submarine.

“Ah, here it is where you hid, vagabonds! Theo, what are you doing there?”

 “Why are you destroying our game?!” – the two explorers sat up from under the desk and started shouting with one voice. – “You disarranged our submarine!”

“What a submarine is chattering in your heads? Hit and run to the kitchen that I have served the lunch and your soup is cooling! Christo! What did you get that colander for?”

“It is not a colander but a pressure helmet!” – the geologist walked away offended and the boys shuffled down the hall.

“It has just started to get interesting...” – the biologist murmured while stirring the spoon in his bowl.

“Never mind! Let’s pretend that this is the submarine canteen and grandma Nadya is the board cook” – his friend said and dragged a little book with an enormous Earth on its cover.

~~~~~~~~~
Translated by: Vessislava Savova

The Checkup

            His work day had finished and Latchezar was walking home. He had nowhere to hurry for and wanted to move somewhat after the long hours behind the desk. There were quite many people in the street and nevertheless the city noisiness, the chaotic movement around made him feel a pleasant sense of vitality. He was gazing at the shop windows absent-mindedly, almost without paying attention to the goods on them and kept an eye on the passers-by.
            He remembered he had nothing to eat at home but decided to order a pizza and watch some movie. He had almost reached his home when his attention was dragged by the conversation between a young couple he had overtaken.
            “Of course, it is important for two people to get along” – the man was speaking in a response of the girl’s catchword.
            “I mean that the most important thing is to show interest to each other,” – she said. – “to feel the person by their side, his or her moods...”
            “Sure!”
            “...and if they lose this relationship, sooner or later, everything between them will die. I even don’t mention the care...”
            “The care is something important.”
            “...and that’s why they have to hear each other, not only to listen when they speak but really to hear what the other one says...”
            “It should be so.”
            “...because if this relationship between them doesn’t exist, they are going to lose each other from their sight, they are going to drift apart...”
            “Naturally” – the man interrupted her again and waved his hand. – “When there’s a problem, it should be confronted directly, they both should sit down and eliminate it otherwise, nothing will work. Everyone thinks about something, just supposing what the other one thinks, however quite often they are wrong and it gets messed-up.”
            Latchezar was watching the man’s curtly gesturing and almost bumped into the woman who had slowed her pace down.
            “Excuse me.”
            She only nodded, stopped at one place and gazed ahead where the man whom she was with kept walking, waving his arms confidently.
            “If the things do not become clear on time, the misunderstandings occur...”
            A step, two, three... the man was walking and talking without turning back. Latchezar had stopped and looked at the woman who was staying without moving. He smiled.
            Four, five...
            “...and then the scandals begin” – the man kept babbling.
            Six, seven...
            The woman noticed his smile and felt embarrassed for a while. Latchezar raised his eyebrows and stretched his arms to her crossing fingers.
            Eight...
            “Come on! Where have you gone?”
            “I’m coming” – the woman smiled sadly. – “Something... the shoe...”
            Latchezar hardly helped laughing after them. “People” – he laughed silently, turned back and went into his entrance.

~~~~~~~~~
Translated by: Vessislava Savova

The Demiurge

The Demiurge was looking carefully at the world he had created. That fabulous world, born by his mind and will, sculpted pedantically till the least possible details, with an endless love and diligence. Vast plains, yellowing fields, lush valleys through which sparkling streams that started from the bowels of the high mountains and their hackly rocky spires to gather together into abounding rivers were spread in front of him. He was staggering the world around and watching his creatures: people who had settled it thinking their cities were built by them without having any idea that all those things were his deed. Everything, till the last grain of sand: the roads, the automobiles that they drove, the different installations that improved their lives. Little ones, fragile and defenseless, depending completely on his will. They did not realize that he was above them, taking care for each one of them and it was in his power without any effort to mow down as a separate human, as the whole that small, refined universe. They were walking, rushing to and fro, staying at a place, sitting in the sun, meeting each other, talking to each other.

The Demiurge remembered the difficulties he had had while he was sculpting that world, the problems he had met, the ways he had solved them in, so everything to be at its place, to be separate and meanwhile inseparably connected with everything else and to be realized as a whole, complete creation. Of course, the Demiurge was able to see the small bugs he had not avoided, discovered some imperfections, trying to eliminate them; he exulted when he managed to do it and suffered when it did not work but he realized that those small imperfections were too exiguous to be noticed by the people, by those ones who did not have his eyes.

He was observing the movement in this world of his. The perfect dance of that amalgam of organisms and mechanisms; he was amazed by the beauty he discovered even into the machines which people rarely paid attention to as if they were some kind of granted thing. He was admiring the automobiles and airplanes, that gave them freedom but mostly to the beautiful trains that were curving around valleys and hills. He had been shivering in front of the ebullience at the railway stations – one of his most favorite places – that were holding into them both history and modern time, journeys to the new places and coming home still since the time of the steam engines far to the slim, drafting high-speed trains. He was enjoying the travelers who were getting on and off them, some of them indifferent by the gathered habit, others, still joyful because of the travelling, the welcoming people who were running to their closest ones, the people, accompanying the departures, waving with a bit of sadness. He was keeping an eye whether everything was alright though people thought they ruled over.

A sudden rumble sniffed him out of his contemplation. The error in the system had missed a freight train running over the passing counter express-train through the railroad switch. He switched the power off instantly but the inertia of the heavy cistern cut the diesel locomotive into the long passenger carriages. The first ones had derailed, the third and the fourth were inverted by the machine which had hit them and the rest of them were stacking up one above another, the cisterns were turning over. The Demiurge shuddered. He was looking at the descended chaos and was checking for damages.

“Daddy, what happened?” – his curious son, who always helped him with an interest, shouted.

“Don’t ask!”

“Is anything broken?”

The Demiurge was looking carefully at the layout.

“Fortunately, there’s nothing damaged” – he sighed.

He started arranging the wagons carefully without paying any attention to his wife who had peeped behind the door and ticking her tongue graciously:

“Are you playing model trains? Kid stuff...”

He was amused but did not answer: she could not, she would never realize the beauty of his hobby. The Demiurge reversed the time, arranged the two compositions again and let them move so that to pass along each other and he did not feel that somewhere above him God was looking at him, smiling and remembering: “Truly I tell you, unless you change and become like little children, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven.”

~~~~~~~~~
Dedicated to all the railway nerds :)

Translated by: Vessislava Savova

The Battle

            Flags flapping, gun carriage chattering and gunpowder smell were floating in the air. The general was conducting with his eyes the both armies tensely form the high hill. The powers were almost equal. The weather was clear, the terrene – flat, there were no clogs that could be used strategically form any of both sides. At the distance, on the other eminence the general could see the opposing commander-in-chief’s camp. They had known each other for a long time, they had led not one or two heavy battles in which the victory was flying from a camp to a camp. He knew his long-standing enemy’s strategy very well but he knew also that his enemy knew his own tactics as well. They were completely equivalent in their art and they had turned into two old fellows full of respect but with no mercy to each other during the long war. “Hi, pal, here, we are meeting again. You have your chances but don’t think I will go down easily”, he welcomed the general who was staring beyond the field in his mind and as if he was feeling that the opposing commander-in-chief was welcoming him too with a tiny smile, tense with excitement before the coming battle.
            His eyes glided again along his lined up velites, the dragoons on both flanks, the feathers of the grenadiers, staying by their cannons, the guards of the second line. He had chosen the classic strategy with the central strike in which he would to unleash his full might. He decided that there was nothing more to wait for. He reached his arm ahead and the bugle signal spread above the field, the drum rumble led the infantry ahead, followed by the guards and opening space for cavalry expand.
            The general was monitoring the rival lines movement – they tried to avoid the collision – tensely. They opened the flanks and brought ahead the artillery brigade. The general kept the attack to the middle of the enemy army and threw the cavalry into attack when the enemy threw the whole infantry ahead and the lines met in a heavy impact. A whole mess happened along the wide field; powder smoke was spread above the field. The general was monitoring closely the movement of each unit from the highland. When he noticed a gap in the enemy’s army, he used it immediately by breaking enemy’s resistance. The battle was his from now on but he did not let his attention weaken.
            An hour later, his zeal was awarded by the view of the retreating and fragmented rival army.
            “This time luck was by your side, Tony!”
            “Come on, it was not luck but a natural result!” – Tony stroked his belly satisfied.
            “A pattern, no way! If I hadn’t let you take my rook with that bishop, you would have realized what a natural result was but it isn’t my day today” – Daniel stretched, scratched his stubble and called out to the café:
            “Ilya, bring us two mastic-brandies!” – and then added silently. – “The deal is a deal but next two will be your treat, you have to know it.”
            “One more game?”
            “Sure!” – Daniel answered and they put the chess pieces on the board.
            Flags flapping, gun carriage chattering and gunpowder smell were floating in the air again... 

~~~~~~~~~
Translated by: Vessislava Savova