***If you do not believe that there is life after death, that there are several lives given to us, and that each person eventually reaches the top, do not waste your time on this story – it can ignite a storm of protest in your mind or, at least, make you feel grief.
Blood was everywhere. Even the feeble light of the single bedside lamp illuminated black spots on the floor. Streaks of blood covered everything: the table with her favourite notebooks and ballpoint pens, the chair over against the bed, the wall. This wall had been undraped and snow-white, just a wall, and now it was covered with stains and spatters.
She never thought there could be so much blood. He’s been dying far too long.
It was time to clean it up. She would get off the hook once again. It was already night, and she had plenty of time.
He was still lying on the blood-soaked bed, long scissors pointing upwards from his neck.
She spared the world from another bastard.
Caine entered the room at the time when she was hastily, but purposefully wiping the floor.
Nora sprang to her feet the blood-soaked cloth in hand, the blood began dripping on the floor.
Caine finally found the resolve to withdraw his eyes from the man in black, lying in the midst of the blood-stained sheets that nearly slipped down on the floor, and looked at the girl in horror.
“What have you done?!”
For a brief moment Nora felt abashed but she promptly found the right answer.
“If not me, then who else?”
It sounded like a challenge. She was sure of her righteousness.
“Who is it?” asked Caine. His legs were giving way.
“What’s the difference?! He was a murderer! I saved all of you from him. You should thank me.”
Nora dropped on her knees and continued smearing the mess with the cloth.
“Good heavens… You lost your mind…”, whispered Caine and sank into a chair. His eyes turned to the corpse transfixed with the scissors.
“And who’ll save us from you?..” Caine as if gave voice to his mind.
Nora stopped. She felt the same tension again and swung round. Her eyes stabbed Caine like the selfsame sartorial scissors. His fleeting understanding and short-lived guess. A minute of sticky heavy silence dragging endlessly while he made his decision.
Nora threw away the cloth and rushed to the table with whiplash speed. She did not have time to grab one of the pens – Caine caught Nora and began to choke her. She tried to pull free of his arms, but her naked feet was slipping on the floor covered in pools of blood. Nora was scratching Caine, kicking him with her legs, swinging her arms in search of some improvised weapon, but the struggle was futile. Caine was throttling her throat with increasing force. Nora tore off the curtain. Ultimately, Caine pushed her to the corner of the room, his hands choking and choking, and choking her…
When everything was over, Caine sat on the bed and wiped his sweaty forehead with the shirtsleeve. He noticed that he was covered with blood as well. Nora managed to dirty him up. Now, she was seated in the corner in an unnatural doll-like position, her head declined on her breast.
Caine sighed and looked round the room. Puddles of blood, Nora’s footprints, pieces of furniture and clothes strewn about during the fight, the inclined curtain track with one curtain left, the man with long scissors thrust into his neck and the white sheet crumpled in his fist…
The lamp on the bedside table suddenly blinked and buzzed.
“I feel sick…” He whispered, looked at the blinking lamp and started crying.
He knew that Nora, himself and this man in black were not to be blamed for anything. And that they all would be happy one day.
(Translate by Pavel Zamachowski)