John Lindqvist - Let The Right One In aka Let Me In

"No, but he understands what is said to him."

"I would think so but…"

"Just for a little while."

Through the fog that clouded his vision Hakan saw a man in dark clothes pull up a chair and sit down next to his bed. He could not make out the man's features, but there was probably a serious expression on his face.

The last few days Hakan had been floating in and out of a red cloud scored through with lines as thin as hairs. He knew that they had anesthetized him a couple of times, operated on him. This was the first day he was fully conscious, but he did not know how many days had passed since he first came here.

Earlier this morning Hakan had been exploring his new face with the fingers on his feeling hand. A rubberlike bandage covered his whole face, but from what little he was able to make out after painfully exploring the contours protruding under the bandage with his fingertips, he concluded he no longer had a face.

Hakan Bengtsson no longer existed. All that was left of him was an unidentified body in a hospital bed. They would of course be able to connect him with the other murders, but not to his earlier or present life. Not to Eli.

"How are you feeling?"

Oh, very well, officer, thank you. Couldn't he better. It feels as if someone has applied burning napalm to my face but other than that I can't complain.

"Yes, I understand that you can't speak, but perhaps you can nod if you hear what I am saying? Can you nod?"

I can, but I don't want to.

The man next to his bed sighed.

"You tried to kill yourself by doing this, so clearly you are not completely… gone. Is it hard for you to raise your head? Can you lift your hand if you hear me? Can you lift your hand?"

Hakan disconnected himself from all thoughts of the policeman and instead started to think about the place in Dante's Hell, Limbo, where all the great souls from Earth without knowledge of Christ went after death. Tried to imagine the place in detail.

"We would like to know who you are, you see."

Which circle did Dante himself go to after death…

The policeman pulled his chair even closer.

"We'll find that out, you know. Sooner or later. You could save us some legwork by communicating with us now."

No one misses me. No one knows me. Go ahead, try.

A nurse came in. "There's a telephone call for you."

The policemanman stood up, walked over to the door. Before he walked out he turned around.

"I'll be back."

Hakan's thoughts now returned to more significant matters. Which circle was he destined for? The circle of child murderers? That was the seventh circle. On the other hand, maybe the first circle. Those who sinned for love's sake. Then, of course, the sodomites had their own circle. The most reasonable thing would be to assume you went to the circle that represented your worst crime. Therefore: if you had committed an absolutely terrible crime you could thereafter sin away all you liked with

the crimes punished in higher circles. It couldn't get worse. Like murderers in the USA who were sentenced to three hundred years in prison.

The different circles whirled in their spiral patterns. The funnel of Hell. Cerberus with his tail. Hakan imagined the violent men, the bitter women, the proud ones in their boiling pots, in their fire rain, wandering among them, looking for their place.

One thing he was completely sure of. He would never end up in the lowest circle. The one where Lucifer himself chewed on Judas and Brutus, standing in a sea of ice. The circle of traitors.

The door opened again, with that strange, sucking sound. The policeman sat down next to the bed.

"Hello again. It seems like they've found another one, down by the lake in Blackeberg. Same rope, in any case."

No!

Hakan's body flinched involuntarily when the policeman said Blackeberg. The policeman nodded. "Apparently you can hear me. That's good. We can assume you live in the western suburbs then. Where? Racksta? Vallingby? Blackeberg?"

The memory of how he had disposed of the man down by the hospital raced through his head. He had been sloppy. He had screwed up.

"OK, then I am going to leave you alone. You can think about if you want to cooperate. It'll be easier that way. Don't you think?"

The policeman stood up and left. In his place a nurse came in and sat down in the chair, keeping watch.

Hakan started to toss his head from side to side, in denial. His hand went out and started to tug on the tube to the respirator. The nurse quickly jumped up and tore his hand away.

"We'll have to tie you up. One more time and we'll tie you up. Understood? If you don't want to live that's your business but as long as you're here our job is to keep you alive. Regardless of what you have or haven't done. Got it? And we will do what we have to in order to get through this even if it means putting restraints on you. Do you hear me? Everything will be better for you if you cooperate."

Cooperate. Cooperate. Suddenly everyone wants to cooperate. I am no longer a person. I am a project. Oh my God. Eli, Eli. Help me.

Oskar heard his mom's voice as soon as he was in the stairwell. She was talking to someone on the phone, and she sounded angry. Jonny's mom? He stopped outside the door and listened.

"They're going to call me and ask me what I've done wrong… oh yes, they will, and what do I say? Sorry, but you see, my boy doesn't have a father and that… but live up to it then… no, you haven't… I think you should talk to him about this."

Oskar unlocked the door and stepped into the hall. His mom said, "That's him now" into the receiver and turned to Oskar.

"They called from school and I… you'll have to talk to your dad about this because I…" She talked into the receiver again. "Now you can… I am calm… it's easy for you to say, sitting out there…"

Oskar went into his room, lay down on his bed and put his hands over his face. It felt like his heart was beating in his head.

When he'd reached the hospital he had initially thought that all the people running around had something to do with Jonny. But it had turned out that wasn't it. Today he had seen a dead person for the first time in his life.

His mom opened the door to his room. Oskar removed his hands from his head.

"Your father wants to talk to you."

Oskar held the receiver to his ear and heard a distant voice reciting the names of lighthouses and wind strength, wind direction. He waited with the receiver to his ear without saying anything. His mom frowned and looked questioningly at him. Oskar put his hand over the earpiece and whispered: "the marine weather report."

His mom opened her mouth as if to say something, but only came out with a sigh and let her hands drop. She walked out into the kitchen. Oskar sat down on the chair in the hall and listened to the marine weather report along with his dad.

He knew his dad would remain distracted by what was said on the radio if Oskar tried to start a conversation now. The sea report was holy. Those times he was at his dad's, all activity in the house came to a stop at 16:45 and his dad sat down next to the radio while staring absently out over the fields, as if to check that what they were saying on the radio was true.

It was a long time since his dad had been at sea, but old habits died hard.

Almagrundet northwest eight, toward evening turning to the west. Good visibility. The Aland Sea and Archipelago area northwest ten, toward evening warning for gale-force winds. Good visibility.

There. The most important part of it was over.

"Hi Dad."

"Oh, it's you. Hi there. We're going to have gale-force winds here toward evening."

"Yeah, I heard."