[Novel] The Pandemonium. Prologue (second version).

Prologue

As he opened his eyes, he saw only angels in white. He had barely opened them that he wanted to close them at once. Something stronger than his will made them close. This little gimmick lasted for a while during which he saw on the wall facing him the shadows scroll through the day. It was dark when he finally regained fully consciousness. He slowly moved his head to examine where he was. White walls, a catheter, on the right, a calendar indicating that 1989 was almost over, on the left, and a basin between the thighs. He did not need more to understand that he was in a hospital.

Nurse Mathilde came to his bedside a few minutes after he awoke. The 64-year-old Haitian was dressed in a blue and white set. She was wearing a strange, sparkling smile.
-- So, how's Blue eyes tonight? She asked the young man in bed, not understanding that he had no idea that for five years the floor called him Blue eyes like Captain Taylor of The Planet of the Apes. Obviously, he was, like the hero of the 60’s flick, a tall blond with blue eyes. He had arrived, not only comatose, but also without any ID on him. It was a nurse who came back from the cinema, who had the idea of baptizing him, and since then the practice had been perpetuated. However, nurse Mathilde was curious to know what was the real name of the Sleeping Beauty. He tried to speak, but his throat was terribly dry. He got nothing but strange guttural sounds from his mouth. The nurse Mathilde advised him to rest, a doctor would come to his bedside later. She left the room with the medical file of Blue eyes.
The next day, a doctor confirmed that Blue Eyes was suffering from amnesia. He had been found in a pool of blood in the city center. He was trying to remember what he was doing in the room he came from, what had happened to him, but he could not. No memory surfaced. In front of his bed, he saw a man in black at the bedside of a soul that had not for long. The black man held in his left hand a small book with a leather binding, while his right hand caressed the dying man's forehead. He stirred for a moment before closing his eyes in a sullen sigh.
The black man mumbled a few inaudible words and then stood up, making a sign of the cross. Blue eyes understood the man's vocation. The priest turned towards him and sat at his bedside. Blue eyes began to wonder if he was also dying.
-- What is your name, my son? asked the priest.
-- I don’t know, he finally managed to answer, suddenly realizing that he was eager to find a name other than Beaux Eyes to designate himself.
-- I Where do you come from? Asked the ecclesiastic.
-- I don’t know.
The monk opened his book.
“Well, it's going to have to be corrected” he began, taking the hand of Beautiful eyes. He let the pages pass one after the other, and the hand of Blue eyes stopped by chance one of them. The priest picked up the book and read aloud: "Mark, chapter 13, verse 23: And then shall we see the Son of man coming in clouds with great power and glory. And then he will send the angels to gather his elect from the four winds, from the end of the earth to the end of heaven.”
The priest closed the book. “Mark, such shall be thy name, my son. Glory to God, you now have a new chance to repent ...” Mark barely got the time to get use to his new name, the monk embraced his forehead and stood up in the direction of the door. “But Father” said Mark “to whom do I owe my baptism?”
And without turning around, the priest replied: “To Father Azarias.”

Translated from French : Le Silence des Sept Sceaux by @twoitguys

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