The Newly Deceased

NEWLY DEAD.

Snow is falling, frost is creaking, painting the eyes on the windows. It's winter, it's Christmas, it's Christmas! A Christmas tree adorned with glowing baubles stands in the corner of the room, lonely, sad, and the fire blazes like crazy in the fireplace. Children are building a snowman, but they don't venture beyond the golden rectangle that the light from inside the cottage creates in the snow. All around, a dark forest stretches out its claws for everything living. Who will it kidnap, who will it eat?

1.

The room is small, but not cramped, like some kind of container, dark, cold, and gloomy, filled with frightened children, snatched straight from their warm beds, still in pajamas and slippers, sobbing. What could it be? On the brown walls are nets of thick ropes, nets with large meshes, massive, somehow sinister. On the ceiling, a kerosene lamp sways with a groan, its feeble flame flickering back and forth as if toying with the tearful little ones, frightening them with perverse glee: "I'll disappear soon and the darkness will devour you!" What could it be?

"Renford, I'm scared," the brunette with the beauty of a porcelain doll complains to the largest boy in the group, the strongest, the most handsome. To which he replies:

"We're all scared, Julka. Think of something pleasant.

" "When I'm scared!

" "Oh, stop crying!" the slender boy interjects. "You're not alone here, it's hard for us too!"

Renford gives him a reproachful look, and we're almost, almost, on the verge of breaking out into a pathetic, unnecessary argument when the one with the glasses, quiet and composed, interjects:

"Don't argue now. We have to stick together."

The group listens to Szuran's words and falls silent, though they'd really like to argue, quarrel, and insult each other, only to apologize a few minutes later and continue waiting in a de-escalated atmosphere.

Szuran has the group's ear. They haven't known each other long, hardly at all, yet the children trust him. They value his decisiveness, common sense, and knowledge, a certain instinct for self-preservation, and perhaps even his intuition, along with the composure that also characterizes Maurycy. Maurycy, however, sits in a corner, withdrawn, isolated. A thick wall separates him from his peers, one that Maurycy didn't build, or at least didn't do on purpose, but he doesn't do anything to try to tear it down. Maurycy enjoys solitude.

Suddenly, panic sets in. It begins with Renford's words:

"Look, something's happening to Ä!"

The body of Ą, a plump boy standing on the sidelines, where the rust of the dark walls creates crooked patterns, trembles slightly, and then throws himself to the floor in uncontrollable spasms. The girls shriek shrilly, and the boys try to calm Ą by gripping his limbs tightly. He pulls away with surprising strength, but soon, exhausted, he freezes and falls asleep. The seizure ends, and the trembling children are calm again.

"Stupid retard!" Krzysztofek says contemptuously, controlling her anger.

Sójka is a fragile and delicate girl wearing the bunny slippers she used to take on every expedition, and she doesn't approve of Krzysztofek's words. The slippers remind her of Shepherd, the black rabbit she once raised—her best friend, accidentally eaten by Darwin—a cat belonging to Sójka's brother, who is now dead.

"Don't talk about him like that!" the girl says.

"The girl won't forbid me anything!" Krzysztofek objects arrogantly.

"Stop these squabbles and that's it!" Konieckropka lisps, irritated. "End. Period. We'd better ask Zwiastun if he has something to tell us."

The children stare at the short, scrawny boy. The Harbinger looks sickly, but he's incredibly strong and could even pull a pretty big stick out of the ground if he had to. But the Harbinger doesn't like to overexert himself. He prefers not to waste his energy on foolish games, for at any moment another vision might visit him, and enduring each one is very, very tiring.

"Nothing for now..." whispers the Harbinger.

And they remain, guarded by the darkness, and when they tire, they'll sit down, and when they're even more tired, they'll fall asleep, immersed in a land of meadows and colorful butterflies. In this family, Renford has a new family, quiet and peaceful, and he's happy above all with his mother—though uglier than the last one, but one who doesn't hit or scream, and when Renford falls over crying over a bruised knee, she won't scold him for his whining. Julia, on the other hand, is a star. She's adored and has plenty of marshmallows. Sparrows and pigeons sing about her, flying with her above the sugar-covered rooftops of Sunny City. Jay is in a hurry; he must fly faster—he's performing in the nativity play tonight.

Szuran is a dragon slayer and is happy not to have to fight any of them, as he feeds them all caramels and cotton wool, which has a calming effect on the dragons and makes them friends with the children. Szuran likes peace and quiet, but not the ominous kind in his cramped cell.

Ą sleeps restlessly. Nothing fits together in his meadow. The boy feels he must smooth out the curves and color the white spots, but he doesn't know how. He wants to leave. There are many paths. One of them is guarded by a teddy bear, which Ą always feared as a child. Ą is distrustful. The bear may have evil intentions.

Szafran and Krzysztofek perform miracles. However, while the former is Superman, Krzysztofek prefers magic. Unlike Konieckropka, who relies on others to charm her so she doesn't have to struggle and can concentrate on contemplating her beauty. Konieckropka has power and is happy. She is carried on a silk dress by magical hummingbirds that obey her every command. Now she wishes for giraffes and elephants to dance for her. Giraffes and elephants have always amused her.

Jay doesn't have dreams. Deep down, he's glad about this, because when he dreams, he dreams mostly of his father. Jay hates his father and is glad he's somewhere he's not. Maurycy doesn't dream either, but for a different reason. He can't dream, though he'd like to. But Harbinger...

Harbinger is in a narrow, windowless corridor, dark, winding, stretching for what feels like a thousand thousand kilometers, with hundreds of branches leading anywhere or nowhere. The boy is afraid to move for fear of getting lost. He feels safe in the company of his peers and doesn't want to be left alone again, like when his guardians forgot him at the amusement park. Harbinger wandered through the crowd for hours, and despite the people around him, he felt very lonely.

The flame of the kerosene lamp grew tired and fell asleep, plunging the group of sleeping children into impenetrable darkness.

2.

A bright ribbon of light, or perhaps a ribbon of white, of silence, divides one of the walls in half. Then it expands silently, slowly, like a butterfly emerging from a cocoon, taking the shape of a white square that the children can't even look at because it stings their dark-accustomed eyes painfully. After a minute or two, the pain subsides, so Krzysztofek carefully lifts his eyelids and, with a smile, sees more shapes emerging, somewhere deep within.

"Hey, look, that's the exit!" he shouts enthusiastically.

The children open their eyes with bated breath to see the exit from the net-lined cell. After a moment, they enter an unknown, mysterious world. A frightened Julia pats Renford on the shoulder, pointing to the place they emerged from. It's a rusty metal container, hidden behind the bars of a shaft leading far up to the ceiling at cosmic heights. The shaft bites into him, leading even higher, perhaps so high that even the astronauts weren't there.

"It's some kind of elevator..." Renford observes. "We had to go down."

Dotpenny stiffens with horror, knowing what's always down there.

"Or maybe... is this hell? Hell, hell?"

But surprisingly, no one reacts! Children, mouths agape, admire the extraordinary architecture of the underground world, whose darkness is illuminated by flying orbs like fireflies. A pale light falls on the depressingly bright walls, and though at first it seemed unusually bright, it is now dark, gloomy, and ominous, raising goosebumps on the skin. The gloomy impression is intensified by massive columns supporting the ceiling and houses rising to the ceiling, carved into the walls—houses with small windows, like blocks of roughly hewn wood, uncomfortable and unwelcoming. And what is happening below? What is happening in the streets? The streets are bustling, turbulent, crowded! But this is in the distance, in the center of a mysterious metropolis, where life seems to pulsate joyfully. Colorful creatures, clowns and strangely dressed ladies, four-legged creatures and furry cupids stroll here and there, arguing heatedly and... dancing?

"Are they dancing?" Krzysztofek asks, rubbing his eyes in surprise.

"Let's check it out!"

"No, no, let's not go there, it might be dangerous!

" "It's dangerous here too!

" "We shouldn't go!

" "We should!"

A minor argument breaks out, led by the brawling Szafran, who always argues, even when he agrees with the group, because he loves to argue. Konieckropka is exceptionally unable to end the argument, and it seems we're only a short step away from witnessing a shameful brawl, but something happens that instantly silences all the children. Boniface appears.

"Shhh!" he hisses.

The children stare in horror at the figure who has appeared out of nowhere. Who could it be? Some kind of freak—four legs, probably six arms. What is it? A small and grotesque head, hairy antennae like an ant's, terrifyingly toothy jaws, and an elongated, lizard-like body ending in an abdomen, as if someone had crossed a spider with a salamander. Boniface has no eyes, but his ears are long and pointed like daggers. They are even more terrifying than his scrawny hands, which seem made for catching naughty children!

"Who are you?" asks Sójka.

Sójka isn't afraid because she remembers not to judge by appearances. She once saw an ugly old woman outside the church who stank and looked askance at everyone, and Sójka was always afraid the old woman would jump on her and carry her off somewhere even worse than home. However, the woman spoke to Sójka one day, and it turned out she had a very beautiful voice. She told the girl the story of her sad life, and the girl gave her all the candy and money she had on her, and left happy to have met such a wonderful person.

"I'm sorry..." Sójka corrects herself. "Who are you?"

"I am Boniface, the right leg of a prince and the left leg of a king, young lady," the creature introduces itself with dignity, straightening the lapels of its black jacket. It quickly changes its voice to a menacing one. "You have invaded our kingdom! Who sent you? Speak up! Quickly!"

Boniface bares a row of sharp teeth hidden behind its jaws, and the girls squeal with terror, while Jay's hands begin to tremble—could she have been mistaken, and this extraordinary creature was truly hostile? Maurycy steps in front of Jay, boldly shielding her from the creature, and says briskly, to the astonishment of the others:

"We came from above and don't remember how we got into the elevator! You can't blame us, sir; it's not our fault!"

Boniface is surprised by the boy's audacity and thinks for a moment. The Jay grabs Maurycy's hand and squeezes it tightly, silently thanking him.

"You came from above?" the creature asks in disbelief, rubbing his shaggy hands uncertainly.

"Yes," Maurycy replies after a moment, seeing that no one else has the courage to face Boniface.

"Come on, then." Boniface gestures for the children to follow him and begins to creep toward the city. The company hesitates for a moment, moving only when Maurycy and the Jay, holding hands, are the first to begin their march

.