Standing in the middle of the hall, stealing glances at the faces of those assembled, he searched for the slightest hint of support or understanding—some faint shadow of sympathy.
He searched.
And found none.
Most stood or sat wearing expressions of bored indifference. But there were others whose faces openly challenged him. Their lips dutifully recited the words of prayer, while their eyes seemed to say:
“Go on. Speak! You want to take the risk? Then take it. Show us your pride! Say what you truly believe! Speak... and die! You cannot even imagine the pleasure with which we’ll kill both you and anyone else who dares follow you!”
He could almost hear their voices inside his head, until it gradually began to seem as though a countless chorus was chanting from every direction:
“Speak! Speak! Speak! Speak-speak-speak-speakspeakspeak!...”
There was a moment when he nearly gave in.
It seemed such a simple thing—to tear the abjuration document to pieces and shout the long-prepared words at the top of his lungs.
But he did not grant his tormentors that satisfaction.
Alas, that scene haunted him day after day. His remarkable memory resurrected the nightmare exactly as it had happened, down to the smallest detail. It reached the point where it seemed that malicious, mocking eyes were watching him from every portrait on the wall, from every crack in the plaster, distracting him from his work, breaking his concentration, demanding that he speak the fatal truth.
Although he understood perfectly well that the walls around him might indeed have eyes and ears, one day, after a bottle of cheap wine, he could bear it no longer.
“And yet it moves! Do you hear me, you idiots? It moves! Pass a thousand sentences—or ten thousand—you still won’t stop it!”
He shouted at the empty wall, shaking his dry old fists and laughing like a madman.
He was not afraid that someone might hear him and come for him.
In fact, he wanted them to.
But no one came.
And that night, for the first time in many days, he slept peacefully.
Viacheslav Sannikov "Almost True". Part I "Humans"
