Chapters of the Beginning V

The only difference between the Being and the Void is just one left turn.

“But it's not what I should think about now.” Vladimir thought. “I'm close to the truth about the dead man on the Moon.” Still he couldn't figure out what it was: something in the basement many years ago, something that happened there. But it was all in blur. The corridor, the door and a complete darkness. Think, Volodya, think. He found himself holding a glass of yorsh. The guys were vividly discussing somewhat, no one seemed to notice him. Maybe there really was something in that drink. Vladimir closed his eyes and drank the alcohol.

“Why are we even doing it?”

Darkness faded away at once. He was standing in the basement again, in front of the door. The world was filled with the awful heavy rhythmic sound. His friends seemed to be mesmerized. But the most scary thing here was the odd sound he couldn't make out. It was the background of the heavy pounding sounds, something unnatural for this place. It was too late when he understood it was chanting.

The door flew open and something was behind it, in the darkness. It was moving towards Vladimir and his friends. With a scream they turned around and ran. Thoughts were flashing in Vladimirs head. He tried to comprehend what was it in the darkness. He could even realize the shape of it, the form and the sight. It was nothing like anything he saw in his life. And than it dawned on him: “It was the Nothing. The Void.”

“Memories, sweet memories.” Vladimir thought and had another sip of yorsh. Now it was the past. Romans came and took the USSR apart. “Perhaps there is nothing in that damn basement now.” The sound of railroad slipped in his head, he closed his eyes and saw train wheels moving. He saw a girl sitting alone in a compartment of a train, looking out of the window. At this time a day or two ago she was forcing a smile and saying “Goodbye!” for the last time to someone very dear to her. Now she was lost in the ocean. She was an exile. Vladimir opened his eyes and saw that girl standing next to him, drinking beer and throwing angry looks at Pasha. “How do I know?” The blur of the memory started to yield again as he thought: “I know nothing.”

He was running away from the Nought in the basement of a typical soviet apartment block, that what he could remember. Was it real? How could it be real? It didn't matter at all. All what mattered was something in front of him, a trick that was very easy to reveal, but he just couldn't. As he saw the two turns they had passed when they got here he remembered the warning: “CAUTION: Avoid the left turns.”

“The dark corridor forward was the left turn when we were going here. So now, we need to turn...”

Left. He realized it too late. When they came to the fork, they turned right, so now the way back was a left turn. He and all his friends forgot about it when they were running away and they all turned left. Volodya stumbled and fell down. Grass. Dry yellow grass, not concrete floor of the corridor. He couldn't believe what he saw.

Wheresoever he could be, it wasn't Earth. There were plains of dry grass and reddish rocks, embraced with mustard-yellow mist. There was sort of a sun, but it seemed unnatural: it was many times larger than the sun and it seemed... electric? Enormous mountains far away came partly into the view through the mist. The land was crossed with railroads and spiked with pipes. The mist was asphyxiating, sickening. Volodya felt a lump going up his throat. That was the land far too unfamiliar and alien to comprehend it. This was the Left Turn Land, arid and distorted.

Volodya turned his head: “The door is still open, we can run.”

But his friends seemed to be frozen, he called them, shouted at them, shook their shoulders and finally hit Vania in his face, after which Vania regained consciousness. All the others seemed to come back too. The door was still there and they rushed to it. The land of nightmares still gasped on their throats as they came to the dark corridor again. There were two roads again, but now they chose the right way without hesitating. The right turn. They ran, without looking back, without thinking, wishing just for the earthly air.

Volodya couldn't remember running away, couldn't remember anything at all. He heard his friends running, their heavy breath. And the darkness of the basement. All his future life he would be afraid of darkness. He didn't know it then, he couldn't think at that moment. He would be afraid of darkness, closed doors and above all he would fear the left turns. And each time he would turn left he would smell the caustic mist and catch a glimpse of the arid yellowish steppe.

Who'd care.

The stairs, the door, the basement. The rain, the light cool wind. And the feeling of waking up from a nightmare.