Daiki awoke with the feeling his dream was no more than a hazy memory, a heavy sleep filled with unsettling visions. He couldn't recall details, only the residual anxiety, as if his soul had been stained by something dark.
For the first time in a long while, it was a weekend. Normally, he would lie in bed until noon, but today an early rise felt more than appropriate. A walk through Moscow should clear his head, possibly rid him of this vague anxiety that clawed at his mind like a rusty nail.
He dressed, washed, and stepped out of his hotel room. The sun already shone brightly, but the air was cool, as if it hadn't fully awoken from its winter slumber. Daiki took a deep breath, savoring the crisp, frosty air.
He chose the route described in the guidebook he'd received at the airport: the center, Red Square, St. Basil's Cathedral. The distance was not short, but Daiki took his time, enjoying the walk through narrow streets, admiring the ancient architecture, frozen in time.
At one point, he found himself in a narrow alleyway, choked with trash bins. The smell was dreadful, a mixture of garbage and something sweet, like cheap cologne.
That's when he saw what was happening. Two men, clad in rough, worn jackets, were beating a man in a grey SS uniform. The man's face was covered in blood, his eyes vacant and uncaring. The men beating him were like hungry wolves attacking prey.
Daiki froze, as if petrified, unable to move. Something inside him constricted, disgust and fear gripping him. He didn't want to be a part of this, didn't want to see the blood, hear the screams.
"Don't..." he whispered, barely audible. He didn't know to whom he was addressing this. The soldier? The men? Himself? He didn't know.
Abruptly, one of the men spotted Daiki. He stood up, brushing blood from his fingers, and looked at him with a clouded gaze. Daiki saw something inhuman in his eyes, something vicious and unpredictable.
"What you doing here, Jap?" he asked, his voice rough with a thick English accent, laced with aggression. Daiki felt his voice tremble with fear. He tried to back away, but the man stepped forward, forcing him against the wall.
"I... I'm just a passerby..." Daiki whispered, trying to sound confident, but his voice shook. He couldn't contain the panic. He felt too weak to stand against these men.
The man grinned, revealing yellow teeth. "So go away, Jap."
Daiki couldn't tear his eyes away from the man's malevolent gaze, and he felt cold sweat spreading across his body. He couldn't understand what was happening, but he felt it was a threat, a threat to his safety. He wanted to run, but his legs refused...
"Leave...," he said in a weak voice and tried to squeeze past the men. But it was a mistake. One grabbed his arm, the other stepped on his chest, pinning him.
"Listen, Jap..." the man's voice was menacing, "You ain't got no business being here. You shouldn't see what we do. You gotta forget. Understand?"
Daiki closed his eyes and nodded. He didn't want to die, didn't want to see himself killed. He didn't even want to think about it. He just wanted to escape, return to his hotel room, and forget about all these nightmarish events.
The men released him, and he ran. He ran without looking back until he reached a wide street. He stopped, leaning against a building, and took a deep breath, trying to forget what he had just witnessed.