BluE HibaKuShA
I ACt
I
Genesis
the birth of Blue Hibakusha
Something happened on the day he died, from the bruised corpse, a blue fluorescence spread to envelop the lifeless body.
Then, having achieved the newly form, the ethereal imprint, trembling, rose in the air, in a shy but inexorable ascent to the sky.
Almost as if it acquired purpose in the ascent, the shape gained speed, and the puffing contours became less blurred.
The figure now violently penetrated the clouds, like thunder it tore the skies apart, higher and higher, defying gravity, slitting the ever thinner atmosphere.
In a dull scream, the shadow was shattered by the solar winds, immersed in the restless space of cosmic radiation, there was no longer an ascent, an above or a below, but only the movement of the increasingly dense, increasingly uniform noise.
And suddenly, quiet. The cruel curtain of astral chaos was dissipating, surrendering to a new, flat, absolute dimension.
Blue Hibakusha was born.
II
Betrayed Eden
the Sea of Sorrows and its phantoms
The newly acquired quiet, like a summer storm, thickened quickly, and the silence became unbearable noise, and Blue felt he had to open his eyes to make the dull din stop.
The eyelids slowly, like curtains, rose, presenting a twisted spectacle.
A body of water stretched as far as the eye could see and suspended above it, countless shadows moved wearily.
It was the Sea of Sorrows, and looking better at the apparent calm of the motionless waters, Blue realized that it looked more like tar, and under the watery veil, he felt a multitude of figures staring at him.
He couldn't see them, but he felt their presence. They permeated the Sea, were part of it, and the dancing shadows above it were linked to it, they were the individual reflections of that viscous mass.
The Sea was the sum of the corpses of hopes, regrets and everything that could have happened, harrowed and reduced to that dark tide.
III
Pelagus
the dreadful dive
The vision filled Blue with anguish, a poison-like effluvium descended from his throat towards his sternum, pervading him entirely as he remained inert in contemplation of that ghostly spectacle.
He knew he couldn't stay there, that the restlessness would dissolve him like the agitated lemures beneath him.
The only thing, the only path he could take lay in the sea itself, he had to immerse himself in that darkness.
The waters lapped at him, but he didn't feel the familiar sensation of wetness, his body, his skin rather recognized an alien temperature, neither distinctly hot nor cold, that began to pervade him as he continued to immerse himself.
He was now completely enveloped by those waves, when a strange, sudden undertow began to drag him into the depths.
In the absolute bleakness he recognized it as a somehow familiar place, an intimate part of himself, only lacking something, a luminous, immaculate thread that had kept him united, tied to something in the gloom. But not this time, this time he was alone.
IV
Wicked Remnants
the perilous legacy of Nihil Hawthorn
On the way down, a towering figure revealed itself to his eyes; it was Nihil Hawthorn, or what was left of him. He recognized his appearance, but his body was horribly disfigured, his frame opened obscenely from his abdomen, letting a multitude of what seemed to Blue to be filaments cast out, floating at the will of the underwater currents.
That terrible florescence multiplied innumerably under Nihil, and descended towards even darker abysses. Blue felt pity for that figure, now an exuviae capable only of giving birth to resentment and remorse, a monument to the perennial memory of unfinished dreams.
“How I wish things had gone differently.” he said, turning to the inert Nihil, uncertain whether he was even capable of hearing him. In fact, he received no response, but his eyes were fixed on Blue, filled with something he decided to interpret as compassion, faith, and hope.
This gave slight comfort to Blue, who with a final look took leave of his brother, continuing the descent, following the threads in the darkness.
V
Hoor Al Ayn
the phantoms of the Allurings
The thin threads became weft, and the weft divided further, acquiring distinct shapes. All around him, smoky, waving figures appeared that he seemed to recognize. A pang in Blue's chest grew as the names of each of them were revealed to his memory.
He then realized that they were the Allurings, beautiful, with diaphanous skin like white grapes. He called them by name, but the ghosts were indifferent to him, continuing their aimless wandering.
He thought he could pay the toll to their hearts with countless tears, buy their love with pain, show them how much they could break him and wait for them to come back to pick up the pieces. But hearts are only kind to those who see, and he was still unseen, shrouded in his darkness.
Blue remained in contemplation, he didn't have the heart to leave, he lacked the cunning, or even just the foolishness to convince himself of the acridity of those fruits, but it was the inexorable undertow that dragged him even further down, leaving those ghosts to continue unaware their disheveled and enchanting dances.
VI
Depths
here lie the promises
In what seemed like endless depths, Blue found himself in even darker waters. From the darkness emerged voices and hands and arms and mouths and moans; they were the promises, at the bottom, unexpected, waiting, transparent. Everything that was left behind was there, and Blue understood that he was in the deepest place of that sea, where the currents had dragged him.
Blue was helpless, what could he do, faced with that terrifying sight? He let himself be crossed by those prayers, pushed by the waves which transformed from condemnation into a salvific flow.
As if stung by a thousand metal spikes, Blue passed the mourning jubilations, no longer able to perceive beyond those moans, in the absolute darkness, surrendered to the end.
He abandoned himself, swiftly in swoon, closing his eyes and opening his arms, the current delegated ferryman of his body, wherever it could still push him, through mysterious paths.
The screaming mouths became quieter, while the descent became levitation, and the darkness slowly gave way to a new shimmer.
VII
Delta
adrift and ashore
Blue regained consciousness, or so it seemed to him, because the dull and muffled noise of the underwater waves finally gave way to the dry, harsh sound of the breeze on the surface of the water that stretched and retracted, throwing itself tiredly on itself and the land under it; he was on the ground.
Blue remained lulled by the perpetual motion of the waves; now he perceived gravity in all its careless strength, no current would have accompanied him further on his pilgrimage.
Making movements as familiar as they were alien, Blue stood up, now having a better understanding of his surroundings; a moor stretched out, rising placidly into the distance, hiding the wider horizon from the gaze. The Sea, terrible in its opposite hemisphere, now appeared phlegmatic, intolerant of its own ceaseless motion. The watery bends, like tired arms, tried in vain to fill the furrows in front of them, of what seemed to be a now arid delta.
The delta stretched towards the horizon and Blue began to walk through those wounds in the harsh earth, trenches dug by sorrow and now filled only with the echoes of the ghosts that had long since poured into the Sea, whose sound was now becoming more and more quiet.
VIII
Myosotis
a valley to be remembered
With cautious steps Blue moved in the muddy maze, threatened by voices that fell upon him from the edges of the cracks he crossed, horrendous echoes crawled in the mud, lurking among the infinite branches of the delta.
The airs were pressing, and so was Blue's pace, now rapid across the estuary which was now a dark gorge.
The earthy and rugged walls were narrowing, high above Blue's head twisted roots like scolopendras denied the sky to sight, and behind them the presences called for the fugitive in the now distant Sea.
Finally, without realizing it, the voices ceased their torment, covered by the damp thud of the race, and the narrow passage with its overhangs became gentler, leaving room for a slope, which accompanied the gaze towards a blue valley, made up of millions of small flowers dancing in the weak breeze coming from the heights that framed the landscape.
Descending towards the valley a new light filled Blue, surrounded by the inflorescences that mimicked his color and tickled with their scent, He felt less alone, he felt that in that oasis he could be remembered, he could be caressed by a gaze that was not his own.
IX
Wrath
the salvific sin
The days passed, the stars made their rounds above the now astonished gaze of Blue, lying on the flowery bed, while the previously caressing petals had become tedium. The celestial bodies shone as they reflected in his eyes, but had no other purpose than to be contemplated; distant, they warmed other bodies with their light, helpless, unaware, dead, just as useless as the stars that gave them awareness to those who were present to observe them. But no one was watching, because no one was there, only Blue, with his eyes shining with a vain light.
Therefore he stood up, with clenched fists, and new lights now illuminated his eyes, gathered on the rims to overflow and suddenly streaming down his face. Like poisonous snakes they crawled on Blue's face and then leaped to the ground, biting it, releasing their venom.
No one would arrive, no one would remember him, and anger tore Blue from the damp ground, otherwise ready to claim his body, anger locked in the grip of his palms, swollen in the acid drops that falling from his face burned the earth, punctured the petals, ignited an ephemeral hope, lost in time.
No one was coming, and Blue wondered “where the fuck did my smile go?”
X
The Great Escape
as the world begins to deface
The colored valley that a forgetful Blue found was now a pale memory; the earth, like a pitiful creature, succumbed to the poison poured into it by Blue, it writhed within itself, the flowers vibrated madly, moaning like skinned little animals, with their burning petals expiring in a bluish dust.
In a choral scream, the belly of the valley ripped open, gushing sap and puffs of dust; the mountains collapsed on themselves and the chasm created began to swallow everything, like a terrifying mouth pulling its own innards towards itself, until the sky itself was torn like a veil, crumpling up to close the entire world on that horrendous jaws.
Blue slipped like the rest of things towards the center of the chasm, he helplessly observed how beyond the regurgitations of earth and slime there was a brilliant glow and once he closed his eyes, he felt his body shaking at the mercy of the hunger of the world.
Chewed and swallowed, Blue finally felt calm, and reopening his eyes he realized he was elsewhere, immersed in a golden, unknowable space.
II ACt
XI
Exodus
the fantastic voyage begins
In the gold a violet-colored spot moved like a leaf in the last days of August, which abandons its branch and rotates downwards. It was Blue, and his presence was the only thing that gave coordinates in an otherwise absolutely uniform dimension.
He was walking, or perhaps just wriggling, Blue couldn't understand if he was moving, he didn't understand if there was a perception of solidity under his steps or it was just a deception of the mind, which was trying to shield him from a situation as bizarre as it was disturbing.
He continued walking like this, or was he perhaps twirling? His eyes recorded an image that was always the same in front of him, but he heard nothing but his breathing, as strong as the waves of the ocean, and the beating of his heart like drums struck from remote depths.
Another sound furtively approached this organic symphony, behind the drums and the waves, a whisper, imperceptible at first, then waved in front of the original orchestra to make itself manifest.
Blue now followed that sound, and the golden plane continued to shine itself more and more, tracing a path.
XII
Cactus
a guide in uncharted places
The aura stripped itself of its blinding glare, revealing sinuous curves, caressed by a whispering tremolo that drew sandy trails towards the torrid sky; it was a desert, and Blue sank his steps into the sand, climbing the large dune in front of him that blocked the horizon from his gaze.
Beyond the slope the sands stretched as far as the eye could see, mixing with the sky in the distance.
Blue's pace became more and more hesitant, under the sun that set the earth on fire and the biting wind, when dark shapes began to reveal themselves far away from him.
Following the mirage, Blue observed what looked like a shrub, a cactus perhaps, standing out among the parched waves, and at his side a man, in a gray suit, puffing out coils of smoke that joined the dust towards the sky.
“Where are we?” Blue asked
“I don't think you should ask me, anyway, I think they call it a desert.” The man replied, tapping the cigarette in his hand.
“If not you, who should I ask? There is no one here except the two of us. I have so many questions… anyway, who would you be?"
The man dropped the now extinct cigarette butt in the sand, and glancing at Blue, smiled. “I think you already have the answers. As for me, I am but a guide, you can call me David, or whatever name resonates with your journey.”
XIII
Through Sands
and the Moon above us
The two solitary nomads continued quickly on the crests of the dunes, while above the silver sickle projected their shadows, letting them slide to join their dark brother on the opposite side.
In the moonlight the sandy slopes resembled livid blades, on the edge of which mist shone like crystals blown by the wind.
Blue, exhausted, stopped, sitting in a hollow sheltered from the current. “We've been walking non-stop for days, do you even know where we're headed?”
“Ah, the enigma of arriving in the vast cosmic desert. You are in a place among the stars, a realm where questions dance with the echoes of the universe. We may be headed into the unknown, that promised land that exists only in our dreams. Or perhaps we are simply looking for a way out, a refuge from the seemingly endless sands.”
The desert wind whispered in the dunes, while Blue urged. “You're not helping! You have no idea the things I've seen, what I've had to endure. And would you be a guide? Where to? I'm tired of all this, to hell with you and this place!”
Blue crouched down, looking up at the moon's sinister smile. Bringing his knees to his chest, he covered a sob
“Blue, this is a place where certainties dissolve like mirages, but in the desert, tears are a commodity we cannot afford. Now get up, I thought I heard something over the ridge.” And as David helped Blue to his feet, a whistle howled across the sands.
XIV
Rails
a locomotive called Hope
The small grains of sand began to tremble, a mechanical noise pressed towards Blue and his guide; the two went up the ridge to witness the uproar in action.
The air was heavy, and a blanket of smoke hid the commotion going on behind it; a pale light illuminated the center of the clouds and forcefully made its way through them, finally breaking through the foggy blanket. From the mist emerged a gargantuan, steel monster; snorting and shuddering, it stopped, incandescent spray sparkling from the connecting rods.
“Ah, look who found us.” David turned to Blue. “This beast, this locomotive, is called Hope; an opportunity that the desert offers us. The question is, are you ready to take it?”
Blue, astonished, stared at the ferruginous tangles that screeched and hissed, while David continued. “Hope cannot be stopped, it won't care about us if we don't get on it, just as it doesn't care about anything that gets in its way.”
Hesitantly, Blue placed a hand on the hot metal; he could feel a roaring beast behind the iron frame, ready to paw at any given moment.
“Come on.” David called Blue, holding out his hand, leaning over the handrail of the foot board, already on board the locomotive. Blue followed him, and the creature, snorting from the pistons, made the earth and sand vibrate, revealing two shining blades in front of it.
