Rubuska: But the end would come, sooner than we thought.
Rubuska: Count Arnold VI and the Countess have, for now, fallen asleep ...
Young Rubuska: ... Where's Dad?
Young Rubuska: It's already dark. Why hasn't he come home?
Young Rubuska: Did he get lost in the forest? I hope not ... Imagine the great Count Arnold lost in his own twilight realm ...
Her mother sets down three plates as the girl giggles to herself. Each with a meager pile of "livers" that have gone from yellow to grey.
Kolyo: Mама, the shadows, the shadows ...
Rubuska's Mother: ... Eat your dinner.
Her voice is thin and rasps with each word. No shadows come out to play.
A sudden, violent pounding rattles the door.
Young Rubuska: !!!
Kolyo: Mама ...
Her hand shoots out to cover the boy's mouth, muffling his frightened whimper.
Rubuska's Mother: Rubuska ... quick! Take your brother and hide!
Rubuska's Mother: Not a sound ... Don't you dare make a sound!
The words come out as a sharp breath; her face twists with terror. The pounding at the door grows louder.
Young Rubuska: Kolyo, quiet ... quiet ...
Kolyo: M-Mама ...
Young Rubuska: Come with me!
The woman's steps are soft and shaky as she moves toward the door. Rubuska throws open their small wardrobe and tucks her little brother inside.
Young Rubuska: Not a sound, Kolyo, not a single sound!
Kolyo: Sister ...
His eyes brim with tears as he is shut inside the cramped darkness.
There is no time for her to find a place of her own. So she crawls beneath the sagging bed.
The door gives way with a crack. Wind, the stench of gunpowder, and the smell of blood pour into the one-room house.
Rubuska's Mother: ...
Garrison Officer: Night patrol! Who is in this house?
Rubuska's Mother: Just me.
Garrison Soldier I: Is anyone from the militia hiding here?! Answer honestly!
Rubuska's Mother: I don't know anyone in the militia. Please, you're looking in the wrong place.
From under the sofa, the girl hears her mother scream. She clamps her shaking hand tightly over her mouth.
The screaming stops. Heavy boots storm into their home, objects smash on the floor, doors and cabinets fly open.
Young Rubuska: ...
Young Rubuska: Mама ...
A strange face appears at the edge of the bed; she chokes. Yet, in the dark, wedged beneath the sagging mattress, she manages to avoid notice.
Two children, frail from hunger, squeeze into impossibly tight spaces. Escape their search, and by that, escape capture.
Garrison Officer: Nothing. The bastard got away.
Garrison Soldier I: Damn it!
The footsteps draw close to the door. Yet before it closes, a small sound cuts out from the little wardrobe.
Kolyo: ... hic!
Kolyo has never once complained about his beans. That good behavior may now spell his doom.
Garrison Officer: What was that?
Garrison Soldier I: There's someone else in here ...
Young Rubuska: ...
Boots rush back inside, closing in on the source. The small wardrobe is flung open.
Kolyo: ... Ah!
Kolyo: M-Mама ...
Garrison Officer: A child ...
Garrison Soldier I: His son ... No doubt about it.
Garrison Soldier I: Take him!
Young Rubuska: !!!
Kolyo is thrown to the floor. Rubuska sees it all, paralyzed with terror.
Young Rubuska: Mама ... Kolyo ...
The door slams shut.
The militia launches a final desperate effort against the occupiers. But disorganized and underprepared, their attempt at liberation turns into a final massacre.
Rubuska staggers over once-familiar fields toward an outcropping, avoiding bodies that stare up at her with vacant eyes. Until, in the distance, she spots them. Her parents kneeling together before a line of men holding rifles.
Young Rubuska: Dad ...
Young Rubuska: Mама ...
Rubuska's Mother: Rubuska!
Young Rubuska: Mама!
A soldier forces her mother back to the ground. She runs faster toward them.
Rubuska's Mother: Buska ...
Rubuska's Mother: Buska, RUN!
Young Rubuska: Mама ... I don't want to ...
Rubuska's Mother: RUN!!
Her mother's eyes are two black pits. Muscles twist across her face. An image of dark horror, robbing every trace of warmth from her face.
She freezes in her step. She wants more than anything to run toward her parents; she doesn't want to listen. Yet her body does what her mind cannot.
She feels herself stumble back, adrenaline surging through her veins as she turns and runs. Bullets pepper the ground around her, throwing up clouds of dust, followed by another deafening blast.
Young Rubuska: Mама ... Dad ... Kolyo ...
Young Rubuska: Ugh ...
Young Rubuska: What should I do?
The town is burning. Smoke rises into the sky, and rain comes down. The thunder of war drowning out her thoughts and the screams of the dying.
She searches desperately for her brother. Only to come upon a scene of horror.
Kolyo: Sister ... my legs ... I can't move them.
Young Rubuska: It's fine, I'll carry you, Kolyo. We'll find Mама and Dad together ...
Kolyo: Sister ... everything hurts ...
Young Rubuska: We'll go home, Kolyo. Just don't fall asleep! Please, talk to me, Kolyo ...
She pulls him onto her back and carries him across the blood-soaked ground. Unsure of where she's going, hoping vainly to find sanctuary.
Her brother moans with every step at first, until he falls limp and quiet.
She awakens in a jolt, unsure of whether from sleep or a daze, unsure even of the passage of time.
The night passes as she struggles toward home; her legs are bruised and sore, and her brother has fallen silent.
Young Rubuska: Mама, Dad ... Where are you?
Young Rubuska: Kolyo, wake up, enough sleeping ...
Young Rubuska: No more beans tonight, okay? We'll have some nice warm potatoes instead ...
The air is choked with ash.
She studies the bodies lying in the filthy street, one by one, searching their faces, caught between hoping to recognize them and fearing she will.
Young Rubuska: Mама ...
She returns to the field. An old man lifts bodies onto a wooden pushcart, closing their eyes as he does. A childish thought comforts her. "They're only sleeping," she says—they're only sleeping.
Young Rubuska: Kolyo ... let me set you down first, okay? I'll have to find Mама and Dad.
Young Rubuska: What would Mама say if she saw you lying about like this? This is no time for sleeping ...
Corpse Collector: Child, he is already ...
Young Rubuska: One second, Grandpa ... What's that, Kolyo? Yes, of course. I'll put you down here ...
His body slumps off of her like a stone.
Young Rubuska: Now be good, little brother. I'll be back in just a moment ...
Her voice cuts off as her eyes catch on something in the old man's cart—her parents lie there side by side. Eyes closed.
Young Rubuska: ...
Corpse Collector: ... Your parents?
Young Rubuska: Yes, Mама, Dad.
Corpse Collector: I'm sorry, child.
Young Rubuska: What?
Young Rubuska: Why are you sorry?
The words come out blank, without a tinge of emotion.
Corpse Collector: They're dead, girl.
A simple mistake for a human, of course. Those ashen faces and their still, unbreathing bodies.
Young Rubuska: They're not dead.
Young Rubuska: They're just asleep ...
A chill runs through her as blood drains from her face. Bloodless lips tremble as she bites her tongue.
She kneels, letting her hands brush over each of their cold faces, straightening their hair and their torn clothes.
Young Rubuska: Mама, Dad, Kolyo, it will be alright; just sleep for now ...
The rain starts again.
