Chapter 3: Mayor Rafalski

  He was awakened by a brutal contact with the stone floor. It was dark everywhere, and before him stretched a dark corridor, several meters long, at the far end of which a wall torch barely smoldered. Somewhere behind him, a door slammed shut with a bang.

  "What's going on..." he gasped quietly, slowly getting up.

  The events from before he lost consciousness came back to him, and he finally remembered his brother's fate. Immense pain appeared in his eyes again, and he felt the urge to scream.

  'This can't be true...' he thought.

  Suddenly, he saw a man huddled nearby against the wall, hiding his face in his hands.

  His clothes were blackened, and his hair was full of soot. At first, he reminded Justinian of the devil, whose portraits were shot at during festivals in the Kingdom of Peace.

  Soon, however, it turned out that this terrible association couldn't have been more wrong.

  "Justin?!" the surprised man asked as soon as he raised his head.

  The boy looked at him in confusion. He knew that voice from somewhere, but he couldn't associate it with this terrifying, soot-blackened figure. After a moment, however, an unbelievable thought appeared in his mind:

  "Mr. Rafalski?!"

  "In the flesh! What are you doing here?! And what about the orphanage?"

  This was the mayor of the capital city of the Kingdom of Peace, known for his broad smile and benevolent view of the world.

  "The orphanage..." the boy's face darkened at the terrible memory of his family's fate. "The orphanage was burning... I wanted to go for Zonik when suddenly the house collapsed and everything went black... Then I woke up here."

  Unfortunately, an awful vision of what had likely happened to his brother began to creep more boldly into Justinian's mind. He began to tremble at the very thought of it.

  Mr. Rafalski, known for those great human virtues associated with the Church of Justice, sensed what Justinian was thinking at that moment. He placed a hand on his shoulder.

  "Don't lose hope. Justice always triumphs in the end," he quoted the motto of the religion of the Great Order, with a fitting expression but also with unwavering faith.

  Justinian knew the mayor wanted to comfort him, but he had just seen the sister caretaker breathe her last and his home collapse. In reality, these words only brought him pain and further memories of those terrible moments.

  'But maybe someone helped Zonik earlier...'

  Sighing heavily, he clenched his fists. With all his strength, he pushed away the terrible truth about the dead sister, all so as not to break down before searching for his brother. In his heart, a faint hope kindled that perhaps it still wasn't too late.

  Trying to set aside the negative thoughts, he asked Mr. Rafalski:

  "What is this place?"

  The good-natured mayor just spread his hands in response.

  "Unfortunately, I have no idea," he stated, then explained how he got there. "As soon as I noticed the fire in the residential district, I immediately started to act."

  He recalled how he was pulling people out of the most populated urban district, working very close to the orphanage. During this noble service, something suddenly hit him on the head. He lost consciousness, just like Justinian, and woke up here.

  "In all this confusion, however, there is a certain disturbing issue..." he admitted, frowning.

  "Yes?" asked Justinian, vaguely recalling strange images from when he was running towards the orphanage. Images of people looting abandoned homes and a suspicious figure in a cloak.

  "When I rushed to rescue the people from the burning district, my Smiling Activists were nowhere to be found!"

  The boy narrowed his eyes at these words.

  Rafalski was known for funding groups of young activists who loudly raised slogans about the need to strive for equality and justice in the city.

  Their main postulates, such as "Dance - if you are for a wage increase," or "My dog is a vegetarian" had provoked numerous discussions throughout the kingdom.

  'This wonderful man met with no small amount of criticism for that funding...' Justin thought, wondering how anyone could protest against the noble motives of these groups.

  The teenagers' absence was very strange to him.

  'Since they proclaimed such lofty slogans, they would surely rush to anyone's aid at the slightest moment of crisis,' he reasoned in his thoughts.

  Only after a few seconds did he arrive at an obvious conclusion.

  "They probably focused on helping in another part of the city," Justinian said without a shadow of a doubt. The mayor, hearing this very sensible explanation, quickly brightened up and readily agreed with his assessment.

  They talked like this for a few more minutes, until the doors behind them slowly opened. A man in a dark coat and boots entered, holding a torch. The soot covering his attire suggested that he had also been near the fires.

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  His mouth and nose were covered with a bandana, and his eyes were hidden by dark glasses like those worn by factory workers. Peeking out from under the soot on his cloak was a chilling symbol: three eyes pierced by a large nail.

  "Who are you and what is the meaning of all this?!" Rafalski immediately rushed at the newcomer, quite rightly demanding an explanation.

  Besides the fact that they were being held here against their will, the conditions provided were terrible. Dark, gloomy, and, due to the ubiquitous dust, very unfriendly for allergy sufferers. Mr. Rafalski's administration, on the other hand, was famous for wanting to introduce high standards even in prisons.

  Unfortunately, the man was not interested in talking.

  "Silence!" he hissed, striking Mr. Rafalski in the nose with a flintlock pistol.

  At the sight of the weapon, the poor official's eyes nearly bulged out of their sockets. Trying to stanch the blood flowing from his crooked septum, he immediately fell silent.

  "You walk ahead, no tricks!" shouted the bandit loudly, showing them where to go.

  The wounded mayor, despite being well-prepared for a discussion of his rights and a philosophical critique of evil, unfortunately had little choice – he had to march. Justinian did the same.

  It was only after a walk of several minutes that the boy realized what a dangerous situation he was in. What was worse, he understood none of it.

  'The explosion in the cathedral... then the fire... now this strange place... what is this all about?!' he wondered, passing another few meters in the corridor that stank of rot.

  The metal needles stuck into the walls, visible as they rounded successive dimly lit corners, were very unsettling.

  However, another observation filled him with the greatest fear.

  'This floor... there are fresh bloodstains on it!'

  Looking at Mr. Rafalski's face, which was as pale as a sheet, he was sure the official noticed it too.

  They walked like this for a few more minutes, increasingly immersed in the awful atmosphere of the unknown place, until Rafalski suddenly stopped.

  "What's wrong?" Justinian asked, surprised.

  "Th-th-there's a c-c-corpse!" the mayor stammered with a bloody nose, pointing his finger ahead.

  The boy, squinting, approached the spot the man was indicating and was completely stunned. The floor in front of him, about a meter wide, suddenly ended, creating a drop of several meters.

  There, over huge steel spikes reflecting the torchlight, hung the limp body of some woman. Blood was slowly dripping from it towards the floor, which was shrouded in darkness.

  'She has the same coat as that bandit!' he also noted with horror, before their captor's patience ran out.

  "Jump across or you'll end up like that corpse down there!" the masked man snarled from behind, threatening them with his pistol.

  The two men who believed in justice looked at each other, but they had no choice, so they ultimately did as they were told.

  Soon after, they reached a place where the oppressive aura was even stronger. The corridor forked here into two separate passages, from which darkness emanated. And before the fork, a man, shorter than their captor but in a similar coat and kerchief, was leaning over the floor.

  "Any problems?" he asked, revealing a sign he had drawn with blood-red paint.

  The newcomer nodded to his colleague, looking at the dark drawing of the symbol of eyeballs pierced by a nail. The same one they had on their coats.

  "There's hardly anyone left in the area. Besides that looter from before, these suckers were the last ones," he said, pointing at Rafalski and Justinian. His companion looked at them and asked:

  "No tail?"

  "None that I noticed, at least, but this place is strange..."

  The short man nodded slowly. After a moment, just like his interlocutor before him, he pointed his weapon at the captives and ordered them to go into the passage on the left.

  "The sooner we get this over with, the better," he hissed.

  The boy and the official looked at each other and, resigned, slowly started towards the indicated corridor. They were quite close when, from the fork on the right, they heard... quiet moans!

  "...ghu ug..." – the words were hard to distinguish, but without a doubt someone was there!

  "Scoundrels! Who are you holding prisoner there?!" the mayor exclaimed in a righteous fury.

  Undoubtedly, with this act, he proved that the values he presented daily were not for show.

  Justinian, although he didn't want to think about justice—due to the pain associated with the loss of his loved ones—for a moment even felt a slight pride that such a person was the mayor of his city.

  Contrary to all good manners, however, the bandits did not repent but only burst out laughing.

  "See for yourself if you are so tough" the taller captor told him.

  Mr. Rafalski gritted his teeth and slowly headed to the other passage. What he saw there made his hair stand on end!

  In the other corridor was a man. Judging by his worn-out clothes, an ordinary citizen like any other. He was struggling to hold on to the edge of a collapsed floor; a few meters below, metal spikes awaited him.

  "Help him immediately, damn it!" shouted Mr. Rafalski, consumed by anger.

  His feelings were completely understandable – after all, who, seeing a person fighting for their life, would not stop to help?

  The captors, however, had a different view on the matter.

  "Aren't you the one who talked about the need to help your fellow man? If you're such a good person, why don't you help him?" the shorter bandit asked ironically.

  He was alluding to the open-borders policy slogans for which Mr. Rafalski was famous. Justinian thought it was a great cause, consistent with the recommendations of the Church of Justice. But for some reason, some residents approached this policy not so much with skepticism as with... hatred.

  Seeing no reaction from Rafalski, the bandits laughed out loud.

  "I thought so. It's always easiest to just talk and tell someone else to deal with the problem," the taller one quipped. "Now let's g—" he wanted to continue, but then something completely unexpected happened!

  Mr. Rafalski, who had been standing calmly until now, turned around and with a swift movement took off the sooty cloak he was wearing. The captors were slightly taken aback, thinking he was about to attack, but the mayor started running in the opposite direction!

  With a sweeping motion, he threw the coat over the bracket holding a burnt-out torch on the wall and, leaning on this makeshift "rope"... he leaped over the collapsed floor to save the man calling for help!

  "Mr. Rafalski!" shouted Justinian, surprised but also greatly impressed by the mayor's strength of spirit. The bandits, who had been laughing at him just a moment ago, now watched the events unfold in consternation.

  Although the cloak already began to tear under his weight, Rafalski landed with grace and an expression full of righteous lawfulness. This was what a true hero of the Kingdom of Peace looked like. He immediately set about helping the citizen, whom he quickly pulled up onto the rock ledge hanging over the chasm.

  The man, as it turned out, was missing part of his tongue, which was why he couldn't speak, but on his face, besides confusion, great emotion was visible. Especially when he looked at Rafalski's cloak, nearly torn in half, the use of which was clearly risky.

  The bandits had grim faces, seeing such an act of heroism, while the mayor himself seemed to radiate a holy glow as he looked at them with superiority.

  "You see, you scoundrels! These are the values of our kingd—" unfortunately, he was not allowed to finish. For the citizen, correctly assessing that the coat would not withstand the weight of two people, pushed Rafalski into the abyss from which he himself had just been rescued.

  It wasn't long before the falling mayor's scream ended with the horrible sound of being impaled on the spikes. And so, the good-natured Rafalski's life ended.

  Justinian stood as if paralyzed. He simply did not understand.

  'Is this some horrible dream?!' he asked himself inwardly.

  Even the two bandits were a little perplexed by the turn of events. However, when the citizen, using the deceased's tearing cloak, jumped over to them, they simply shrugged, threatened him with their weapons, and ordered him and the confused boy to move on.

  The sound of the coat falling into the abyss grimly confirmed the man's calculation—there was no way it could have held two people.