The Crimson Red Snow

Kaliningrad, Russia. Year 1995



This city is not what it used to be, has been drowned in snow, which has forced most people to leave the city, but not only that, it is completely separated from its surroundings by ice walls, and the great port, has no ships.





Kaliningrad, Russia. Monday August 14, 1995. Königsberg Cathedral. 0940hrs.



It was on the floor, unable to get up, unable to walk, sadly crawling on the floor, trying to escape, leaving behind a trail of blood, trying no to turn and see the horrible smile and happy expression of her attacker, her small attacker grabbed her ankles, forcing her to turn.

-Do not run, I want to see that look of pain and agony on your face while I murder you.

A young woman about 20 years, long silver hair, and eyes of deep blood red, wearing a black dress, despite the cold, holding a survival knife of the Russian navy, her face framed in the blood of her victim, and in her face a smile of pleasure and joy.

The victim looked for the last time the face of her killer.

- Who are you?

-Smert.





Kaliningrad, Russia. Tuesday August 15, 1995. Streets of Kaliningrad, outside the Church of Christ the Savior. 0600hrs.



The city lost its pure white color, the streets immersed in the snow ceased to be white, turning to a bright red blood color, while the bright blue morning sky illuminated the city.

'Before I kill you, answer me something.

- What do you want?

-Please explain what this is. Do you really believe in this god of yours? If I pray for him without asking why, will I be saved? Is it possible to venerate the time of death of this person?

-I will do everything for my God, our pastor is salvation, even if you kill me, I know I'll go to heaven with him.

'You're wrong, there is nothing like a god, it's all lies, created by the uneducated who cannot give logical explanation or simple phenomena.

-It's not so, that's what they say, those who cannot ... those who do not want to receive the blessing of the Saviour.

- You know what's behind the death? Do you know if you can go to heaven or hell? Are you even real? Do they exist? Tell me!

-I do not know, but I trust my Lord.

- And where is that savior? Cause I don’t see him here. Is it that he does not care? Or he can’t come to save you? Or does it not exist?

-I ...

- Is it he who controls everything you do? Don’t you have the power to make your own decisions? Is not that free will? So why is he who controls your destiny? Understand, God does not exist.

-I won’t listen to more of your words, if you will kill me do it once.

-Let's see how far can your devotion go.

- What do you mean?

- Would you die like him?





Kaliningrad, Russia. Tuesday August 15, 1995. Church of Christ the Savior. 1820hrs.



Her eyes were lying, or I would have wanted, the huge stone cross of the church, was upside down, and it was the corpse of the victim, crucified. The body was bleeding, brutally tortured, gut out a pained look on his face, was alive and conscious until the last moment, and on the walls written in blood "Bol".





Kaliningrad, Russia. Wednesday August 16, 1995. Port of Kaliningrad. 1100hrs.



-Watch the snow fall, with its pure white and quiet, not knowing that inevitably falling means turning red. While the gray sky does not miss a single ray of light. And we, unable to leave this hell, we cannot do anything. Perhaps we can only hope for something to happen? Or rather we have to do something? You cannot escape, you have to survive.

She ran as fast as she could, trying to escape, running forward and not looking back, knowing full well what followed her closely.

-Nothing good comes from running, you cannot escape me, but you run, even though you know I'll catch up, you cannot escape your destiny.

- But I can change it, right?

-Not this time.

She stopped short, could not run again, trying so hard to escape it, but could not, she was in front of her, aiming a gun to her face.

-Until you came here.

She only had the time to close her eyes and take a last breath. her blood was shed by the spring, falling to the cold water of the estuaryof  Pregolya. And only snow could hear that quiet whisper, that name was not pronounced, but thought; Chernyl





Kaliningrad, Russia. Thursday August 17, 1995. Citadel.0300hrs.



-Chernyl, until you got here, understand that this city belongs to me, and I will not share it.

-You do not need to tell me, this town is stained red.

-Well, the blood will has poured into the snow.

-But the snow is pure white, this is not snow, is your hatred that has stained the snow red.

-And you, Chernil, who has been living surrounded by darkness. Aren’t you responsible of the color of the snow too?

- What if I am? That's what I am. You and I, are not so different as you think, both born to the same, hate, kill, plunge the world into darkness, fill the hearts of people with fear and cause the most excruciating pain, they have never met.

-You're right, we are equal, but I work alone, Chernyl.

-Well it's time you retire, and die, Bol.

That said, the fight began, and both engaged in a murderous battle, a struggle which would not have witnesses, because in a city empty and desolate, no eyes to see and appreciate death, nor the beauty of a woman. Bol was old, and that same day, her birthday, there would be someone to remember, Chernyl was very young, would not reach ten years old, and being so young, she painted the streets of a city deep blood red.





Kaliningrad, Russia. Thursday August 17, 1995. Citadel (roof, square) 2345hrs.



The moon shone immeasurably, the Pregolya estuary under the stage was illuminated and reflected the moonlight, as the city grew colder. The outdoor stage, the theater on the roof of the main square, would be the perfect place to end, the history of Kaliningrad.

-Chernyl, this city has been abandoned by God long ago, and it makes me wonder if there really is a god.

-Of course there is, and you'll know tonight.

-That's impossible, I’ll never see him.

-Tonight you’ll be leaving this world, and he shall judge you by your actions, and send you to hell, where you belong, but do not worry, soon you'll have company.

-Sorry, I reject your proposal.

-It cannot be helped, that's your destiny.

- Is my destiny? Do not make me laugh, destiny is nothing, everyone forges their own, and I will forge my own, and do not see you my destiny.

- Shut up old!

- Old? What are you talking little girl? I'm still young, dwarf.

- Die!





Kaliningrad, Russia. Friday August 18, 1995. 0001hrs.



Both bodies were in the ground, one with the throat open, the other stabbed in the heart. That city was completely deserted, without a soul to remember all that happened, but the mystery of the red snow that keeps falling in that city is still a mystery, a lost city, which can be only entered or left by the port in the Pregolya estuary, a city without people, but as soon as you enter it you can feel the death around the corner. The streets and buildings and walls covered with a red snow, falling incessantly. If ever the snow that falls at this place was pure and white? Nobody knows, nobody remembers, because no one can remember. And always, on 18 August, the city can be seen in the dark, with the red moon on the outdoor stage, the theater on the roof of the main square, where two shadows fight until dawn, in memory of why the snow is red. Crimson Red Snow.