The Dark Domain

by Stefan Grabinski

  Of no small help in this original research were the meticulous maps of practically all areas of the country, and even beyond, which filled his library shelves. Amongst these were plans of cities and towns with their entire labyrinth of streets, back-streets, plazas, alleys, gardens, parks, squares, buildings, churches, tenements, plans so pedantically scrupulous that a person visiting a particular area for the first time could, with the help of these guides, move about freely and with ease, as if in his own home. Everything was numbered most thoroughly, arranged according to districts and regions, and waiting their owner’s use. All he needed to do was stretch out his hand – and rectangular and square canvases, oil-skins or papers would obediently spread out before him, acquainting him with their details and peculiarities.

  Czarnocki frequently spent hours devouring these maps, studying the distribution of houses and streets, comparing the planimetry of cities. It was very laborious work, demanding much patience; not always was the outcome readily known and frequently one had to wait a long time for some positive result. Yet Czarnocki wasn’t easily discouraged. Noticing a suspicious detail, he would grab it in indignation, as if with pincers, and wouldn’t let go until he discovered a fire that had occurred years ago, or until a fire would occur and confirm his suspicions.

  The fruits of this long-standing research were the special ‘fire maps’ and ‘fire modifications’ drawn up by him. On the first were emphasized places, buildings and houses which had passed through some catastrophe, no matter if the traces of the fire were eliminated and the damage repaired, or if the fire site had been left to its own fate. The plans called ‘fire modifications’ underlined the changes that had occurred in the arrangement of homes and buildings as a result of a fire disaster; any shift or the slightest alteration was marked with amazing pedantry.

  After the creation of both types of maps Czarnocki eventually came to some very interesting conclusions. Connecting various fire sites with lines, he became convinced that in four out of five times the fire points created outlines of strange figures. Primarily these were the shapes of short, funny beings that sometimes reminded one of child freaks, at other times, of animals – little monkeys with long, playfully turned tails, agile bow-legged squirrels, extremely hideous talapoins.

  Czarnocki ‘extracted’ from his plans a complete gallery of these beings and, colouring them with vermilion paint, put them into his unique album titled:

  Album of the Fire Elementals.

  The second part of this work was Fragments and Designs – a multitude of grotesque figures, incomplete forms, barely developed ideas. Inside were sketches of vague heads, fragments of trunks, parts of arms and legs, segments of hairy, spread-out paws, interspersed with half-twisted figures, mangled things and tentacled growths.

  Czarnocki’s album seemed like the work of someone’s capricious fantasy that, delighting in grotesque-diabolical beings, fills pages with multitudes of malicious, chimerical and incalculable monsters. The fire chief’s collection looked like a joke, an artistic genius’ florid joke which had materialized in some strange dream. But at times this caprice chilled one’s blood … .

  The second conclusion reached by this original researcher came after years of observation. Fires, he perceived, occur most frequently on Thursday. Statistics showed that in most cases this terrible element is awakened on this particular day of the week.

  Czarnocki didn’t think this was just coincidental. On the contrary, he found an explanation. According to him, it came from the very character of a day whose symbol is contained in its name. This day, as is known, has for ages been the day of Jove, the thunderbolt god. Not without reason do the Germanic races name the thunder day: Donnerstag and Thursday. And that full, precise Latin melody: giovedi, jueves and jeudi – do they not indicate a similar understanding?

  Reaching these two important findings, Czarnocki went on to further conclusions. Philosophically learned, and clearly inclined to metaphysical speculations, he engrossed himself in his spare moments in the mystical works of early Christianity and meditated scrupulously over various medieval tracts. The long-term study of fires and their circumstances finally led him to believe in the possible existence of previously unknown beings who, occupying some middle level between human and animal, appear beside every strong eruption of the elements.

  Czarnocki found confirmation of his theories in peasant beliefs and in ancient folk tales concerning the Devil, water nymphs, gnomes, salamanders and sylphs. Today he had no doubt that elementals existed. He felt their presence at every fire and followed their maliciousness with unusual skill. Gradually this hidden and unseen world became as real to him as the human environment he belonged to. With time, he became quite familiar with the psychology of these strange creatures and their crafty, deceitful nature, and he taught himself how to neutralize and subdue this enemy. A stubborn, fully-conscious fight ensued. As Czarnocki had previously fought with fire as a blind and thoughtless element – slowly, in direct proportion to his acquaintance with its real nature, he began to look at his enemy differently. Instead of a persistent, irrational force, he gradually detected a spiteful, destructive essence that had to be reckoned with. Recently, he also perceived that his altered tactics had been noticed by the other side. At that point, the battle became more personal.

  And maybe no one in the world was more qualified for this battle than Antoni Czarnocki, fire chief of Rakszawa.

  His very nature, endowing him with an exceptional quality, destined him to be a conqueror of this element. The fireman’s body was completely invulnerable to fire. He could stroll in the middle of the greatest conflagration, surrounded by flames, without receiving the smallest burn.

  Even though his position as a fire chief didn’t require him to personally fight a fire, he never spared himself and was the first to dash into the most frightful blaze. At times it seemed he was heading toward certain death, where no fireman had daring enough to go. But – wonder of wonders! – he would come back whole and healthy, a nice, slightly quizzical smile on his manly, reddened face, and after taking a breath of fresh air into his overstrained lungs, he’d return to the flames.

  His compatriots paled when, with unparalleled courage, he would make his way up a blazing building, force his way through nearly burned-down porches, storm into gutted corridors and rooms.

  ‘He’s unbelievable!’ whispered the firemen amongst themselves, watching their chief with both fear and awe.

  Soon Czarnocki acquired the nickname ‘Fireproof’ and became the idol of firemen and the populace. Legends and tales began to envelop him, flavoured with wonder, from which rose some double-faced figure of the Archangel Michael and the Devil. A thousand stories circulated about him in the city, oddly interwoven with fear and adoration. Today he was commonly thought of as a good sorcerer in collusion with the world of mystery. Every movement of ‘Fireproof’ gave food for thought, every gesture of his took on special significance.

  People were particularly amazed that the fire chief’s asbestos-like characteristic seemed to spread to his clothing. At first it was thought that Czarnocki wore some unique fireproof material, a supposition quickly proven incorrect. For incidents occurred where the uncanny fire chief, caught unawares by a night alarm in wintertime, would grab hastily the first overcoat he came upon, to later emerge untouched from a fire – as usual.

  Someone in a similar situation would have financially exploited such unusual gifts, but Antoni was content with people’s homage and admiration. At most, he occasionally allowed himself non-profit ‘experiments’ done for the amazement of his co-workers or close friends. He would hold large pieces of glowing coal in his bare hand for fifteen minutes or longer, without any sign of pain; and when he threw the glowing embers back into the fire, his audience saw an unscathed hand.

  No less amazing was his ability to impart his invulnerability to fire to someone else. All he had to do was momentarily hold someone’s hand and that person would become impervious to fire for a while. On
ce, a few local doctors became obsessively interested in him, proposing several ‘seances’ in exchange for great remuneration. Insulted, Czarnocki rejected the offer, and for a long time ceased his informal ‘experiments.’

  Other, even more astounding things were related about him. A couple of firemen, who had served under him for quite a few years, swore on all that was sacred that ‘Fireproof’ knew how to duplicate and triplicate himself during a fire; they had spotted him in a frenzied sea of flames in several different and highly dangerous places at the same time. Christopher Slucz, a respected and trusted fireman, solemnly vouched that he had once seen at a villa’s scorched bay-window three figures of Antoni, looking like triplets, flowing into a single Antoni, who then calmly went down a ladder to the ground.

  How much truth there was in these tales, how much fantastic exaggeration – no one knew. What was certain was that Czarnocki was an unusual person, one who seemed born to battle with the destructive element.

  Aware of his power, Czarnocki struggled with fire ever more fiercely, strengthening his attack and improving with each year the agents of combating fire.

  This battle eventually became the meaning of his life; every day he pondered on more efficient means of fire prevention. Today, on this sweltering July afternoon, he had been going through his most recent notes and arranging material for his great study on fire. This would be a comprehensive work in two huge volumes, summarizing the results of his lengthy research.

  And now, while smoking a fragrant Cuban cigar, he visualized the book’s design and arranged the chapter sequences … .

  Finishing his cigar, he smothered the stub in an ash tray and got up from the ottoman, a smile on his face.

  ‘Not bad, not bad!’ he murmured, pleased with his meditations. ‘Everything’s in order.’

  Then, changing his clothes, he went to his favourite café for a game of chess … .

  Several years passed. Antoni Czarnocki’s activities took on wider range and depth. He was talked about not only in Rakszawa. The renown of ‘Fireproof’ grew and grew. People came from far away to see and be amazed by him. His book on fire was very popular and not just among firemen, for in a short time it saw several reprints.

  But shadows also appeared. The fire chief, actively participating in fighting fires, met with several accidents during this period.

  At a huge fire in a lumber warehouse in Witelowce a blazing beam unexpectedly fell, seriously injuring his right shoulder-blade. In two other fires he sustained injuries to his arm and leg from collapsing ceilings. Most recently, several weeks before Christmas, he almost lost his right hand: a heavy iron crossbar falling from a ceiling brushed against him – a few millimetres more and it would have crushed his wrist bone.

  This brave man reacted to these accidents with admirable and dignified calm.

  ‘They can’t accomplish anything with fire, so they’re knocking down beams,’ he said, smiling nonchalantly.

  Yet from that time, firemen carefully monitored his movements, not allowing him to plunge too far into a fire, particularly in places where disaster might result. Despite this, these accidents recurred with strange persistence and in situations where one least expected them. The fire chief’s presence seemed to torment the spirit of destruction: quite unexpectedly, footing beams, barely severed by fire, fell in his vicinity, ceilings not yet engulfed by flames tumbled, debris the size of cannonballs dropped, and now and then big, weighty rocks, from unknown places, fell where he stood.

  During these occurrences, Antoni Czarnocki just smiled gently under his moustache and continued calmly smoking his cigar. But the men operating the water pumps would carefully move away, scowling. It was becoming dangerous to be in his vicinity.

  There were other concerns that no one knew about as their terrain was the very home of the fire chief.

  At first one smelled a strong stench and a burning scent throughout his house; it seemed that old rags were smouldering somewhere. The horrible stink loitered in invisible waves along the corridors, oozing heavily into rooms and hanging under ceilings. Eventually the odour touched all the furniture and penetrated into clothing, underwear and the bedding. Repeated airings didn’t help. Even though the doors and windows were open almost all day to the eighteen-degree cold, the disgusting smell remained. Every search to uncover its origin was to no avail; the situation was hopeless.

  When, a month later, the atmosphere became tolerable, a more dangerous phenomenon arose: Czarnocki’s house was overrun by fumes. For the first few days one could try and blame the servants, who might have prematurely closed the stoves. But when, despite all precautions, the stifling scent of carbon dioxide still continued, one had to look for the cause elsewhere. Changing the fuel didn’t help much. Though Czamocki now ordered wood to be burned in the stoves and forbad blocking the vents, a few members of the household got burned badly at night, and he himself woke up in the morning nauseous and with a terrible headache. Finally, unable to stay in his own home, he had to spend his nights at the house of an acquaintance.

  After several weeks the fumes went away. Antoni breathed a sigh of relief and returned home.

  Although he initially didn’t comprehend the incidents that had visited his house so obtrusively, with time he examined their origin and understood the intention: the elementals were trying to frighten him and force him to give up the battle.

  But for him this merely served to awaken the spirit of contrariness and a craving for victory.

  During this time he was working on a fire-fighting system that would surpass in effectiveness all existing ones. The extinguishing method would not be water, but rather a special gas which, spreading in thick clouds over a burning building, would absorb easily into the oxygen and smother the fire at its core.

  ‘This will really combat fire,’ he said, innocently boasting to an engineer acquaintance during a chess game. ‘After my invention receives a patent, fires should cease to be so devastating.’ And he twisted his moustache with satisfaction.

  It was the middle of January. In perhaps two or three months, in the spring, he anticipated completing his project and sending it off to the ministry. Meanwhile he worked hard, particularly in the evening, and midnight frequently saw him bent over his plans … .

  One day, as Marcin, an old servant in his house, was removing unburned coal from the stove, Czarnocki threw a glance at the remains and noticed something intriguing.

  ‘Wait a moment, my good man,’ he said, detaining the servant on his way out. ‘Put that coal here on my desk, on the newspaper.’

  Marcin, a little surprised, did as he was told.

  ‘Yes. That’s fine. You may go now.’

  After the servant left, Czarnocki carefully examined the glowing embers. Since first spotting them, he had been struck by their shape. Thanks to the fire’s particular capriciousness, the remains assumed the form of characters from the alphabet. In wonder he scrutinized their outlines, their finished details: perfectly sculpted from the coal were capital letters.

  ‘An original puzzle,’ he thought, playing with their arrangement in various combinations. ‘Maybe something will come out of this?’

  Somehow, after fifteen minutes, he got the words: FILAMENT – FLICKER – REDDEN – HYDROPHOBUS – SMOKER.

  ‘A pleasant company,’ he murmured, writing down the strange names. ‘The entire fire rabble; finally I know you by name. A truly original visit, even more original than calling cards.’

  Laughing, he put away his notes in a cabinet.

  From then on, he had the stove remains brought to him, to discover ‘mail’ every time.

  And the correspondence became quite interesting. After the ‘preliminary introduction’ came ‘communications from the other dimension,’ letter fragments, warnings, finally threats!

  ‘Go away!’ ‘Leave us in peace!’ ‘Don’t fool around with us!’ ‘You’ll be sorry’ – these were the words which usually ended these ‘fire communications.’

  For Czarnocki
these admonitions gave a humorous rather than serious impression. Indeed, he rubbed his hands in satisfaction and prepared the decisive blow. He felt strong and certain of victory. The accidents that had occurred around him had stopped, and the unpleasant manifestations at his home were not being repeated.

  ‘Instead, they’re corresponding daily like good and proper friends,’ he scoffed, looking over his ‘fire mail’ every morning. ‘It seems that these little creatures can only exert their malicious energy in one direction. Now they’ve focused all their abilities into these “firemessages,” and that’s why I’m not threatened from any other side. How very fortunate. Let them write as long as possible; they’ll always find in me a zealous recipient.’

  But the ‘correspondence’ abruptly ended in the beginning of February. For a while the coal remnants still adopted the shape of letters, but despite Czarnocki’s endeavours no words could be arranged; only jumbled consonants or a lengthy series of unrelated letters emerged. The ‘mail’ was clearly breaking down, until finally the embers lost the appearance of alphabetic characters.

  ‘The “firemessages” are finished,’ Antoni concluded, closing with a flourish his Diary of Fire Communications.

  For several weeks there was peace. Czarnocki finished up his fire-gas project and initiated efforts at obtaining a patent. But work on his discovery had apparently tired him out, for in March he felt a considerable decline in his strength. Also, the symptoms of catalepsy appeared. He had succumbed to this condition in the past during times of nervous agitation. Now the attacks came during his sleep; awakening in the morning, he felt extremely tired, as if after a long journey. Yet he didn’t fully take into account this abnormal state, for the transition to it occurred very gently, without the slightest jolt; only his sleep deepened. Along with his weariness upon awakening came a very clear and colourful memory of the journeys taken supposedly during sleep. Throughout the night he was climbing up mountains, visiting foreign cities, roaming in exotic lands. The nervous exhaustion he felt in the morning seemed directly related to his dream travels. And – a strange thing – that’s the way he explained it to himself. Because for him these wanderings were completely real.