He lies on the Jester's cart - 28 pt.3

Mar 30, 2025

He lies on the Jester's cart

Mar 30

I move into the rain. One hand in my pocket, the other in the demon’s grip. He’s heavy, I feel him dragging me down. I feel my shoulder being pulled toward the ground, but I walk quickly. And he comes with me. I can’t quite understand how I manage to keep moving; I feel bent in half, leaning to one side, but my balance holds. I follow Marzio. He’s on the other side of the street. I follow without crossing, not yet. The rain grows heavier again, and even with my hood pulled tight, it seeps into my collar, soaking my hair. The drops are heavy, falling fast, each one a sharp sting. At the end of the road, there are metal structures, tanks nestled within them, and around them, shiny pipes coil like snakes, winding between tall pillars and blooming atop the round heads of the cylinders resting on thick, gray steel frames. They look like needles plunged into fingertips, sucking the lifeblood from a patient no longer visible, so enveloped by the machines, tubes, and molecules that keep him suspended in midair with the wind blowing between his legs. There are crosswalks, and I cross them.

The steel monster looms closer. Marzio is in front of me, about twenty meters away. I fall in behind him. He heads straight for this metal tower. It rises before me, and I almost hear a murmur in my ears, reminding me to show respect. It feels like I’m approaching a temple dedicated to some pagan deity of iron and water. And each idol is guarded here within. The iron gargoyles standing watch on the sides are shadows cast on the balconies, which extend meters beyond the frames, protecting the treasures within. I approach the legs. They are thick, wide, set deep into the concrete and bolted with bolts as wide as three fingers. Rust drips from some of them like blood washed away by the rain. Here, the shadow is even darker, and the rain stays outside. I shake the water from my shoulders, pulling my hood back with my left hand.

Marzio is in front of me, closer now. He has his back to me, continuing to walk among the silent, sleeping machinery. The lights are dim. Large round electric motors lie lifeless, with pipes coiling from their ends to form strange geometries. It looks like everything here has been built, disassembled, and rebuilt again. Some pipes are old and rusty, while others shine with new life, untouched. He moves quickly between these sculptures, leading me into its heart. Where it’s darkest. There’s a metal staircase. It descends into a dark pit. I see him start down and disappear into it.

I follow, placing my foot on the first step, and feel the demon’s hand pulling me back. Away from there. I can’t stop. I step down the first stair and take him with me. The dim light from the surface fades after a few meters. I pull out my phone and light the way. At the bottom of the stairs, there’s a button emitting a faint red glow. I reach it and press it. Some neon lights flicker on, illuminating the narrow pit. My feet are on a steel grate. I look down through it but see nothing, just darkness. I raise my eyes, searching for Marzio. He’s not there. Around me, the walls are light gray concrete. You can still see the marks of the wooden boards that held the concrete in place during the pour. Just above my head, a bundle of pipes spreads across the ceiling, snaking into every crevice.

Out of the corner of my eye, I see movement to my left. There’s Marzio, slipping through an opening. I follow, my footsteps on the grate making a dull noise that’s quickly absorbed by the concrete walls. There’s no echo. Who knows how deep this pit goes. I reach the opening where I saw Marzio disappear and step into it.

Darkness again. The demon’s hand slides up my forearm, wrapping itself under my elbow. It grips tightly. His fingers are cold and long. In the distance, I see a faint red light. It looks like the button I pressed earlier. I keep walking. There’s a handrail, I brush it with my hand to guide myself in the right direction. The last bits of light from the opening behind me fade away. Now I only look toward the button. Above me, the pipes run in the same direction. They’re made of iron, some are wet, dripping. The heavy sound of footsteps echoes in my ears. There are only mine in the air. I keep brushing the handrail, remembering to breathe. Deeply, deeply. I reach out, touch the button, and the red light disappears. To my left, there’s another set of stairs. I can see it because at the bottom, a neon lamp lights up the last few steps. Marzio must have gone this way. I descend the stairs, one step at a time, counting them. I reach the bottom. The staircase is narrow, only wide enough for one person at a time. Nine steps. Once again, I’m standing on a grate. This is a narrow corridor, no more than sixty centimeters wide, with iron railings on both sides. I can’t see the bottom beyond my feet or the walls beside me. I inhale. My legs are like marble. My face, stone. The air stops inside me, unable to escape.

His hand grips tightly. The thumb digs into my armpit, and the four fingers wrap around the head of my humerus. He pulls back, and I bend my shoulder to the right and then down. Pain. I groan between my teeth. It hurts, he wants to tear my arm off. Beyond, I can see nothing.

Nothing.

But Marzio passed through here.

I take a step. Then another, and another. Around me, everything is dark. The only sound is me, trembling with fear in the air. One centimeter at a time. On a path that seems endless. I walk, and the light disappears, I can’t see anything, I guide myself by the hand on the metal, not to stumble, I could fall, a shiver runs through me, it could overtake me then, one step after another, I am here. How much farther I must walk, I don’t know. I am alone here. I want to turn back and see how far I’ve come, but I’m afraid I won’t see the light that brought me here anymore. Lord, what have I done? Where am I? Where am I going? Marzio, where have you taken me? Where are you?

The darkness is total.

I stop. I slip my hand into my pocket, take out my phone. I activate it and raise it in front of me, trying to shed light on this deep darkness.

I see nothing. There’s this long steel walkway I’m standing on, I don’t see walls, I don’t see the bottom of this pit. I look up. There are shadows of pipes, I can’t see them clearly, but they seem enormous, at least two or three meters in diameter, above me, the fingers of a giant crossing perpendicularly over the path I’m following.

Where am I?

The grip tightens, stronger, more violent. I’m shaken, and I lose my balance, I grab onto the handrail to keep from falling, and there I see my phone fall, its blue light fading into a distant dot in this darkness.

I scream in despair with every breath I have in me and reach out toward it, but it’s useless. I am here. On this metal, crying and screaming in terror, the terror that comes from my gut, a dagger twisted and turned to tear me apart. The light vanishes. Only emptiness remains, and my choked scream becomes a soft sob. A distant echo, bouncing off walls I don’t know where. I hear no other sounds besides my own. I am only fear and brokenness. Broken deep within my soul.

A whistle of wind brushes my skin. And a rustle in my ears. I open my eyes, filled with fear. My heart races wildly. I want to stay here, but I’m afraid, I want to move forward, but I’m afraid. I feel the walkway shift, a dull sound, a low wave spreading through the metal and air.

I exhale all the air trapped in my throat. I can’t stay here. I have to move forward, or I’ll fall, into the abyss, with this metal pulling me down.

I take a step forward. I move. Then another, as if I’m limping, then another. The first step is the hardest. Then I find my rhythm. And I keep going like this. I close my eyes. I cry silently. In my darkness. At least that belongs to me. My hand guides me. It brushes the metal lightly, without really touching it, leading me in a straight line toward an unknown destination.

Oh, Marzio.

I think of you and see your face. How I wish I could hold you now, my love. How I wish you were here. So we could do this together.

I press my lips together until they disappear, they burn. I open my eyes, they’re red.

I take my left hand off the handrail for a moment and wipe my eyes with my wrist. I sob.

I look down. I can’t even see my feet. Then I look up.

I open my mouth. I can’t believe it.

I feel a tiny sprout of joy bloom. There’s a light up ahead, faint. But it’s there, I see it. It’s in front of me.

- Marzio? – I whisper softly.

- Marzio? – the echo responds in the same tone. Then again, and again, dissolving into the void.

The walkway sways as if something hit it hundreds of meters away.

I move toward the light, my steps steady.

The light keeps getting closer. I can see it more clearly now. It’s a naval-type lamp, oval in shape, with a metal grille protecting the domed glass. The light it emits is warm, yellow. It’s mounted above a narrow green wooden door. Surrounding it is a large concrete wall; I can’t make out anything else. I’m getting closer, there’s a rectangular landing at the end of the walkway. The door is right in front of me, but the landing continues for another meter to the left. I’m close. Just a few more steps.

I reach it, there’s one last step between the walkway and the landing.

I step down.

I’m on the landing. I hear the sound of rushing water, like a river approaching a waterfall and then plunging down. It gurgles and then explodes. A distant roar. It comes from the left.

I look at the door. The knob is round. It’s brass, yellow, I touch it. It’s warm. Almost like gold. I turn it, and the door opens. I step inside.

It is close. It is time.