Mykolaiv: End Of World Rave 2020

I remember a dream I had a long time ago. A girl I remembered from when I was a kid. She was older than me. Not by much, maybe one year. Although in the dream, she was much older. Maybe in her twenties. I was still young at the time. Maybe twelve, I don’t remember, but in the dream it was just me and her. She was standing in front of me. I think we were on a building. I remember a building. One of those derelict apartments with grey slab concrete and rusted windows all around the sides. We were on a building. The rooftop that is. And she faces me. Angelic as she was, I do not remember her face. But she was beautiful, and she wore white. I think. It might have been red, I don’t know. But I do remember that it was the last dream I ever had. I don’t think I dreamt of anything since. We were on the building, and she stared at me, smiled. Never touching me, but she kept looking at me. Big grey eyes, I remember that much. Eventually everything turned white, and I woke up.


“Luka, you need a job?”

The fat fuck Yarkov sat in the corner of the gym glaring over at me. He was this local “mob boss” scumbag piece of shit who thought he was the toughest debt collector in all of Europe. In actuality, he was a big pussy that came out of an upper class family somewhere in Siberia. Never did anything meaningful in all of his pathetic life. He wore some pale blue Adidas tracksuit and a couple of gold chains, one of them a studded crucifix. A shaved head, Oakley sunglass tucked behind the ears.

I was at the local boxing gym near my flat. I had just broken in some new punching bags and was ready to shower. I still wore my shorts and undershirt. My gold chain had started to chafe the surface of my chest, and left a small rash. I was in a bad mood. I wanted to smash somebody’s face in for real. It could be Yarkov, but he has money, and I want it.

“Luka, what is this? Come here for a second.”

“Yeah, yeah, what do you want you fat ass?”

“Is this how we treat friends now?”

“We are not friends. I just work for you. What do you want, I need to shower.”

“I have a contract for you.”

“What else is new.”

“Here’s his picture.”

He handed me a photo of some hooligan with a crew cut and broad forehead. His eyes caved inwards and his nose looked to be broken at least a couple times.

“Where did you get this picture? The quality is really nice.”

“I just got this nifty Canon printer. I’ve been printing non-stop for days.”

“Good for you.”

“So what’s up with you? I haven’t seen you at the football games anymore, what’s the deal?”

“I don’t fuck with football anymore, I only like to watch fights now.”

“How can you hate football so much? It’s in your blood.”

“Yeah, not anymore.”

Yarkov laughs. “Anyways friend, what are your plans for tonight? You hear about this whole end of the world thing the news keeps bringing up?”

“Yeah I heard. I don’t buy that shit. It’s been like, what? The fifth time this year?”

“They say it’s for real this time. And not some religious thing either. Actual bombs.”

“Yeah, I’ll believe it when I see it.”

“Well I know what I’m doing tonight. Going to party harder than I ever have before.”

“Yeah I’m sure you will. How much does this contract pay?”

Yarkov shrugged. “5 bitcoin.”

“I’ll take it.”

“You are thirsty for cash, no?”

“I’m always thirsty.”

He laughed. “Good man.”

“What’s the guy’s name?”

“He is known as Kristjian on VK. I think it is an alias, but I’m not so sure. He is supposed to be going to that big rave at the port tonight. I would check there.”

“Sounds good. Where’s this rave?”

“Down by the port. On the Kabotazhnyi decent.”

“Oh, I think I know where that is.”

“You can’t miss it. It’s supposed to be the biggest rave in Ukraine from what I hear.”

“Sounds like a blast. Alright Yarkov, I’m heading out, I’ll take care of your pal for ya.”

“Okay my friend, have a good shower.”

After the shower I decide to walk home. It was November and it had started to get cold. The snow had come in about a week earlier, so it was still white and fresh and still looked pretty. I hate it. All the buildings looked all the more dreary. The white seemed to bring out the grey so much more than I want. I wore three jackets and the surface of my scalp had frozen slightly from the shower. Luckily, I had a buzz cut, so I brushed off the ice clumps after it had started to sting slightly.

I heard some pumping bass behind. The Hard Bass was loud, I recognized the tune from something I saw in a Youtube vid a while back. I thought it was Narkotik Kal, but I was not so sure. One of those overplayed 150bpm shit bangers you heard dieselboys constantly play. The 2006 Subaru stopped just ahead of me. The window rolled down. The melody was now quite apparent. It was definitely Narkotik Kal. A guy with a shaved head and eyebrow piercing poked his head out the window. I remembered him. Vit, a cokehead party animal who fucked too many girls in high school. He whistled over to me.

“Yo, Luka! Bro! Come here a second.”

I approached the window.

“What’s up?”

“Yo, bro, I haven’t seen you in so long man. How are you?”

“I’m okay, just got back from the gym.”

“Still trying to be the next champion, huh? When you going to start pumping bro, that’s where you get real muscle. Not this fighting shit.”

“I don’t know. Fighting makes me feel good.”

“I feel that brother. Come inside, let me give you a lift.”

I got inside the Subaru. Another kid I knew was driving. He wore a Nike golf hat and some tracksuit of which I did not know the brand of. It was a dark navy.

“Yo, where do you live Luka?”

“A couple blocks down, just keep straight.”

Vit starts talking.

“So, Luka, what are you doing tonight? You hear of this rave happening at the waterfront?”

“Yeah I heard of that. I’m not sure what I’m doing actually. I have this thing I have to get done though, but after that I don’t know.”

“I’m going to try and hit up the rave. Supposed to be a lot of girls out of town coming. Going to be a massive orgy from what I hear.”

“Well, you’ll have a great time then.”

Vit laughs. “Definitely bro. Oh, by the way, you still seeing Eva? She had nice tits from what I remember.”

“Nah, I broke that off awhile ago, she was too fucking needy.”

“I feel that bro.”

All of a sudden, a shirtless hooligan starts blocking the road yelling unintelligible phrases. His arm is half separated. A bone stuck out from where I could see track marks.

“What’s this fucking faggot doing?”

“Some krokohead for sure. Fucking loser.”

“You guys hear that Jitka is on Krokodil now?”

“Jitka on Kroko? This I’ve got to see.”

“She already lost her leg. I don’t think she has a lot of time left.”

“Good fucking riddance. She was a dumb cunt anyways.”

We reach the entrance of my apartment building.

“Alright bro, I’ll try and see you tonight. You going to go to the rave?”

“Maybe, probably not though.”

“Ok man, well if I see you around we’ll definitely chill, ok?”

“Yeah, yeah, sure.”

Vit left. I didn’t want to chill with him at all. I walked into my half­empty flat. My mother was out from what I could tell. I threw my bag on top of the kitchen table and walked into the bedroom of which I share with my older brother, Kirill. I laid myself down on the mattress to the side of the floor. Next to me I had my old iPod plugged into the speaker set­up. I scrolled through my playlist and played one of my favorite songs ever since I was a kid. It was random, and I did not like to tell many people about it, but the tune helped relieve the anger, at least for a short time. I found that though this shitty American pop tune from the late nineties may be stupid to most, I found myself playing it on repeat for days. The lyrics of which I barely understand repeat themselves over and over in my head.

“My loneliness is killing me

I must confess I still believe
When I'm not with you I lose my mind
Give me a sign”
Hit me baby one more time”

After a few minutes I took out the mirror from under my bed and chopped up some coke on top and took in a few lines. I stared up at the ceiling, letting the anger fester inside me.


I walked along the Kabotazhnyi descent until I reached the port. There were many protests. I saw at least five different bonfires on the way over. People are scared, angry. Most, if not all of the stores had broken windows. Everything was gone. The men crowded the streets blasting shitty Hard Bass. It was apocalyptic. I did not care. I just wanted to kill this piece of shit football hooligan and get my bitcoin. I started hearing the music. It was loud. Louder than anything I’ve heard from a rave. I was nearly half a kilometre away when I started hearing it. I had to cross over to the warehouse on the port. I walked through the entryway, with big turquoise letters above where the gate used to be. A restaurant nearby, where I used to eat at, now closed up and burning. Several people gathered around staring into the flames. Shouting nonsense. The sign that read: НЕВСКИЙ, МАГАЗИН­КАФЕ eventually came falling to the ground, causing a minor explosion of flames and debris.

The entryway was flooded with people. Girls were practically naked, everyone smoking cigarettes. I rushed myself through the people to try and get to the entrance. So many lights blind me. I saw some pathetic piece of shit shoot up next to me. His eyes were hollow, and stare blankly into nothing. I would have killed him there and then if I could, useless fuck.

By the time I get in, it was nothing more than a giant cesspool of sex, drugs and sweat. The music was overwhelmingly loud. Trays of drugs are passed around and everyone seems high on something. Finding this guy was going to be harder than I thought.

I stepped over massive piles of orgies on the floor. The room was dark, so it was hard to see. The wide open space showed everyone inside, and the coloured lights made them all form together in a strange cloud of psychedelic dismemberment. I looked around drastically searching for this scumbag. I took out the photo once more to try and see if I can find him.

45 minutes go by and I begin to lose hope. I think I had looked through every crevice and corner. I was beginning to get claustrophobic. The music was constantly pulsating and I could almost feel the bass drums touch the edge of my nerves. I immediately felt the need to leave and proceed to the exit nearby to have a short cigarette break. I have only a pack of shitty Yubilejnies and immediately sparked one. I inhaled deeply and felt the familiar warmth rush to my head as it instantly relieved the anxiety I was feeling beforehand. I lost balance slightly and saw the circles of white static that plagued me whenever I inhaled too much and too quickly. While I waited to revive my vision I heard a familiar voice call out to me.

“Hey! Hey!”

I looked up, perplexed. This pretty blonde girl was facing me.

“I never thought I’d see you here.”

I did not recognize her. She kept staring at me with a longing look in her eyes. I then finally respond.

“I’m sorry, but who are you exactly?”

“Do you not remember me?”


“I remember you.”

“Well, good job.”

“I can’t believe you don’t remember me.”

“Am I supposed to?”

“I would if I were you.”

“Well, you’re not.”

“I can’t believe you don’t remember me.”

“Why do you keep saying that? Who are you?”

“You saved me.”

“I saved you?”


I looked away into the distance. “I only save myself.”

“Well, you saved me.”


“Almost six years now. Do you really not remember?”

“No, stop asking that.”

“It’s just sad is all.”

“How is it sad?”

“It’s sad because you should remember what happened.”

“Well, I don’t.”

“You don’t remember secondary school?”

“I was too high to remember anything at that time.”

“I’m sorry for that,” the girl said, touching my arm.

I looked at her again. “Don’t be, it wasn’t worth remembering.”

“It is.”

“Look, do you want something or can I go now?”

“I didn’t picture it ending up like this.”

“Well, too bad.”

“The world’s supposed to end tonight.”

“That’s what they say.”

“Aren’t you afraid?”

I shrugged. “Not really. Fear is for pussies.”

“You are afraid, I can tell.”

“Don’t tell me what I feel.”

“You gave me the same look that one time.”

“I don’t really care.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be.”

“Goodbye Luka.”

She left. Fucking crazy bitch.


I entered the rave once more. I tried going towards the center of the room this time. Looking left and right. Left and right. Behind, forward. Is it this hard to find the guy? All around me people cuddle and embrace. Guys and girls, guys and guys, girls and girls, fucking faggots should just get a room. They held onto each other like it's the only thing they have. I saw some little pussies cry in each other's arms. Makes me fucking sick. I bet that crazy bitch is wrapped up in someone’s arms now. Hallucinating about some memory that never even happened.

I finally find the man. He is in front of me, dancing like an idiot. I pull out the glock that had been in the back of my sweatpants for nearly two hours and aim it straight at his head. The people around me don’t seem to notice or care. I pull the trigger, blood spatters across my green overcoat. I quickly snap a picture of his dead corpse with the flash on. I walk away. A few people scream, but the music's too loud, and the room is too dark for anyone else to notice. I text the pic to Yarkov.

“Yo its done”

“v gud. i send u bitcoin now.”

I got a buzz in my hand. 5 bitcoin added to account. I feel slightly better than before.


The soldier has cornered me in the classroom. Everyone was gone and half the building was on fire. He smiles at me in an insincere way. I tremble. He gropes the side of my head, puts one hand on my thigh and started to reach up my still-virgin parts. He tries cupping a breast, but I am too young to have any. As he starts kissing me, I hear a gunshot and immediately feel a warmth penetrate my stomach. The soldier’s grip loosens and I see the blood spread on my white One Direction t­shirt. I am in too much shock to even realize what is happening. To my left is a boy around my age, slightly shorter than I. He holds a pistol aimed at me, but then slowly lowers it. He begins to leave but I shout out to wait. He looks back at me. Staring. Dirt around his face. The room is too dark to catch any glimpse of detail, but he was breathing rapidly. I can smell his sweat. He tells me that the only way out is through the roof. We run together up the stairs, I ask for his name. Luka. He does not ask for mine. When we get to the roof, he begins to reach over to the fire escape and climb down. I wait in the center just staring. He stops and looks over at me confused. He walks over to me asking if everything is alright. I can see his face clearly now. His tattered blonde hair and innocent blue eyes, hazed over with a shade of red. I smile at him, he still does not understand. But I thank him anyways, and then proceed to walk with him down the escape.


I continued walking around the room trying to find an exit. It seemed as if I was perpetually lost, going in circles, never finding a way out. The people were all engrossed in one giant glob that I refused to be apart of. I didn’t care if the world is ending. I had myself and it was all I needed. I smoked a cigarette in the middle of the room. I closed my eyes and looked up towards the ceiling. I finally cannot see the idiots around me and I feel at peace. A siren went off. People crowded together closer. I started to feel somewhat faint. I felt like I might die at that very moment. I looked around to see thousands of pussies cry. I did not want to be here, but I was. I continued to feel the harsh kick of the bass drums rupture my nerves. A white light engulfed the room. The melodies started to fade away and all I hear is that perpetual drum kick. Boom ­boom ­ boom ­ boom. I see the faces fade. I feel myself fade. Until all that is left just an empty white light, and then darkness.