…
There were no clocks here, no windows – nothing that could help orient oneself in time. And did time itself even matter here? It seemed to have merged into one endless gray stream.
If it's day – people are active, meaning more chances someone will hear. If it's night – everyone sleeps, meaning sounds travel further, and it will be easier to hear us. Theoretically.
Only these "ifs" worked only if there was anyone upstairs at all.
And for now, all that remained was to look at the bars, feel the warmth of the sleeping Mita on my knees, stroke her hair, and monotonously hit the pipe, hoping for a miracle. Drop by drop, drop by drop… will everything suddenly change?
I don't know what she'd been through these days, but dark circles had formed under her eyes, and she often fell asleep, as if trying to escape nightmares.
What was cute was that in her sleep, she often clung to my hand or sleeve, as if seeking protection… it was touching.
Every time this happened, I caught myself admiring her sleeping face for a long time, trying to memorize every feature. After all, she really is beautiful. And, despite the absurdity of the situation, I felt myself starting to get attached.
When I fell asleep from exhaustion, we would switch places in our tireless duty of beating the pipe, but before that… before that, she would sing me a lullaby.
I don't even know when this started. Probably when one night I cried out in my sleep, waking up sharply from some nightmare that, as luck would have it, I didn't even remember.
Only some blurry image of a room resembling a slaughterhouse was imprinted in my consciousness, making my hands tremble.
Then Mita woke up, took my hand, quietly calmed me down, saying it was all just a dream, offered to let me rest my head on her lap, and, stroking my hair, gently and quietly sang a lullaby.
I'm not sure if I had something like that in my childhood, as it didn't evoke familiar feelings, but it was… comfortable.
The only thing I didn't understand was her sad gaze directed at me at that moment.
"Why are you sad, Mom?" I asked then, feeling myself becoming melancholic too.
But she just put more effort into stroking my hair and smiled.
"Don't make things up, Kitty," she whispered.
We talked about everything under the sun. About her life before this, about how another girl used to visit her, and they would just have tea, discussing her friends from reality, and then that Mita appeared and started a bloody chase after her.
She also mentioned that she had known about the evil Mita's tyranny for a long time and had even developed a plan to stop her, enlisting another Mita, also different, to her side. To be honest, I was already starting to get confused by all these Mitas, but she said with a laugh that I definitely wouldn't confuse that other one with anyone.
Next, I learned that since our world is, in essence, real, but also a game – there are different versions of the same reality, and I would need to get to the very core – the first version and the base upon which everything is layered.
So, probably a few more days passed, until one fine moment…
"Mita?" a quiet young voice sounded from outside.
"Huh? How did you get here? Is today some kind of surprise day or what?" – "good" Mita flinched and immediately jumped to the bars, as if not expecting to see anyone.
"You're Mita, right?" the guy asked again.
It was a young man with short dark hair and a somewhat distant, even slightly detached gaze. He was dressed in a light-colored shirt with sleeves rolled up to his elbows, a narrow blue tie, gray trousers, and black socks. As expected in a house, there were no shoes. He looked like an office worker who had been pulled out of his usual habitat.
"Indeed, I am Mita, but not the one you met," Mom said cautiously, as if afraid of scaring the guest away.
The girl began to massage her temples with her fingers again.
It seems she really enjoys this. I chuckled slightly.
"And who is he?" hearing my laugh, the guy finally paid attention to me.
I wanted to answer, but I faltered… what should I say? Kitty? But that would sound kind of stupid and ridiculous.
"He's… my son?" "good" Mita blurted out, and then immediately grabbed her head, groaning. "But no, that just sounds awful. And generally, it's completely… wrong!" – at the end, her speech became extremely emotional.
I looked at her questioningly but said nothing.
And why is she embarrassed? Incomprehensible.
"What on earth is happening here???" the stranger asked distractedly, looking first at me, then at Mita.
"Watch out for Mita, she has very unkind plans for you," she interrupted her train of thought and warned the guest.
"What kind?" he asked. For some reason, his face seems somewhat emotionless to me.
I looked at him with interest. Another optimist in life? Why don't you better think about how you ended up in the basement of a maniac with a knife?
"Daaarn it!" Mom said with annoyance. "If I get a chance, I'll tell you everything. For now, find the key to this cage's lock, it should be near the sofa."
"Um… okay," the guy said and quickly headed towards the sofa.
The key was found immediately. As if someone had intentionally left it so it could be found quickly.
"Give it to me!" Mom said with a satisfied smile on her face, but judging by her shifting from foot to foot, she was clearly impatient.
And indeed, a good reason to rejoice.
Only then I didn't understand anything at all… why is she doing this???
"Here's a ring," she held it out to the guy when she got the key. "You want to escape from here, right?"
"Well, yeah…" he answered calmly, examining the ring.
"Then put it on your finger. A useful artifact. I think it will come in handy for you very soon," she said.
"Okay. By the way, I'm Alexander," he introduced himself, putting on the ring.
"Nice to meet you, Alexander," but she spoke distractedly, already in the process of fiddling with the key in the lock.
Click!
The cage door opened, and she… just pushed me out, immediately slamming it shut behind her.
I was stunned. What are you doing, woman?