Amaury Dreher - Opalescence - The Secret of Pripyat

The darkness was in motion, slipping everywhere to flood the most remote areas with shadows and blackness. I decided to go up to the roof of the building. The night was cool and dotted with opal-coloured stars. I smoked a cigarette, observing the constellations and the celestial vault. These bright stars were perfectly visible due to the absence of light pollution and other urban distractions. It is said that at certain times you could even see Saturn. I was trying to distinguish what my imagination was whispering at me. The smoke from my cigarette was rising in the sky towards the distant stars. My gaze was lost in this cosmic enigma, one more, where deep secrets seemed to be buried. I thought that each luminous star represented as many truths as one would have to grasp and clash to obtain an answer to the existential questions that pulled me. I was thinking about the future, the anguish that was coming.

My eyes were drawn by a movement: a silhouette came to join me on the roof. She sat in a suit in front of me. Amanda’s tears were slowly running down her face. They seemed almost too clear. Were they false?

—Are you not asleep? I asked.

—Impossible. I don’t intend to,” she replied. Insomnia strikes me as much as you do.

—You know, sometimes I wonder. If I leave this place, will I be able to come back?

—Of course, you’ve already done it.

—What do you mean?” I exclaimed in a hostile voice.

—You really don’t remember anything? she whispered as she sobbed.

I remained mute, my eyes dark.

—You came here eight months ago…

—What are you talking about?! I shouted.

—That is the truth. You know the Zone as well as we do. You know that deep down inside. You just forgot it…

—That’s enough! That’s enough! I don’t trust you anymore. You turned my brain over, you’re even worse than the other two.

She took my hand and pressed it vigorously against hers.

—Please…

His gaze was both desirable and despicable. I could have kissed her as well as killed her right now. I pushed her away violently. She fell heavily to the ground, her face covered with tears.

—Get out of here! I don’t need you anymore.

Indifferent to my protests, she stood up and grabbed hold of me more beautifully, her cries redoubling in intensity.

—Please don’t go, please.

I freed my hands and let out an even more unbridled brutality by pushing it hard. It was on the edge of the roof, only a thin cornice separated it from the void. Her eyes were swollen with despair. I turned my back on him and went down the ladder that led to the ground.

Should I believe her? Was she trustworthy? I was clenching my teeth, shaken by rage. No, she was exactly like the others, manipulative and driven by her own interests. From the beginning she had been playing me. I was more and more convinced of it, his gentle features concealed a pernicious being. May she rot in hell! I wished her death. As for me, I would continue on my way, my fists clenched and my heart full of anger.

I cannot assess the extent of this time gap. I was possessed by a throbbing vertigo. The trees seemed identical, but the horizon, yes, the horizon seemed clearer. The cold was less biting while the wind was almost conciliatory. But I wasn’t crazy, it was still snowing. I could see the snowflakes falling. Were they real? I hastened to grab them with my hands and apply them to my face as if to convince myself of their existence. The effect was chilling. Yes, I was experiencing these sensations well. The gel crystals melted, dripping on my cheeks, and I cried with joy. I wasn’t mad. Winter had not gone, I had only been in the exclusion zone for a few days. I was always the same, clairvoyant and intrepid. I had been lied to. The villains. Of course they lied to me. I dreamed of twisting their necks, nailing their faces and hanging their carcasses in the Red Forest. Yes, that’s what they deserve. As these violent thoughts poured into me, I felt the usual pain: the recurring and unbearable headache that came back. I felt that someone, something was drumming against my brain, like a door being pushed down with a ram. The pain made me sweat and pant. I pressed my skull frantically into the frozen ground, desperate for an escape from this ordeal, for a more suitable end. The cold was real. The horizon had darkened. The blizzard’s grin was about to ring out. I closed my eyes as if blinding myself would hide my pain and repel the nightmare that was spreading inside me. Finally, winter had never dispersed. He had maintained himself, inflexible, as if persuaded to defeat me. I thought he had succeeded. I planned to surrender, stop this excess suffering and put an end to the anxiety. I no longer really knew who I was, what shaped me and what pushed me to act. I felt deprived of my conscience. My ego was gone. My past existence had been annihilated. I had become a near-human. A naked being, empty of substance and promised to a wandering identity whose end could not be other than a painful death. Tears were flowing. A fragment of humanity was still sleeping in me. The tear fluid was warm and drowned my eyes as if to purify my suffering. I had to run away. An inner voice was whispering at me to disappear. The idea was as sneaky as its author. It had invaded me like a torrent, carrying everything in its path, until it reached me in the depths of my heart. I was trying to resist that intention, that temptation that was mine. The dilemma was tenacious, I couldn’t stand this confrontation anymore.

10ème jour dans la Zone.

An owl was hollering. I unfolded the tent near an imposing conifer, preparing myself to spend yet another night in the Zone. I had somewhat lost track of the hours as if the perception of temporality had been affected by radioactivity. It was impossible for me to sleep. Slumber was playing me. Sneakily, Morpheus attracted me and then moved away enough to keep me frustrated and awake.

To keep myself busy, I decided to watch the videotapes of the camera we had placed with Andrei. I was curious about what the images could reveal. I had the recording of the last two days unfolded in chronological order.

I was a little unsettled to see myself under the effect of a thermal representation so much it made me look like an intruder. On the screen, Andrei and I could be seen walking around in the buggy garage, hiding the device before we retired. Then it was nothingness. As the hours passed, no movement was taking shape. The room was empty, orphaned by any human presence. I accelerated the scrolling. Still nothing. There was only the last day of registration corresponding to today. Finally, at 6:00 p.m. the image came to life. A silhouette appeared in the camera field. My pulse rushed. I immediately switched back to real speed. The individual moved quickly and precisely. Obviously, he had already broken in here and had his bearings. The man seemed tall and strong, but was unrecognisable. It was just a cluster of purple colours and more or less yellow tones. He didn’t come alone. A second person accompanied him, much more ill at ease and with softer, less confident movements. A projector had been turned on and placed on the side. The thermal camera was panicking. Coloured slicks merged into a psychedelic mixture. With the room now lit, I was afraid that the camera would not be sufficiently hidden.

The two men stayed for more than an hour. They seemed to have come only to talk so much they didn’t want to interact with the room. One of them, the tall one, seemed to be holding a notepad. He wrote and drew frantically, pointing things out to his sidekick. Then it was his turn to express himself. The first one had his hands on his hips and walked a hundred paces listening to him. His body language betrayed a clear domination in his relationship with the second individual. The latter seemed more obedient than cooperative. Paradoxically, he seemed calmer as if he had a greater distance from their situation, from the problem that occupied their debate. I cursed myself for not having the sound. I was intrigued by their conversation. What was the justification for a clandestine meeting in this hard-to-reach building? Why did the tall one seem so tense, so anxious? Finally, the discussion stopped. The forecastle repacked the projector while the second one stuffed the notepad into a bag. The two individuals escaped from the room. The colours disappeared and the video became monotonous again. I turned off my phone.