Author : Piotr Swietlik

‘I told you we shouldn’t have…’ says Hun-Hunapu as the executioner slowly approaches.

‘Oh don’t be a wuss. You’ve seen the time progression’ replies Vucub Hunapu narrowing yellow eyes, identical to his twin brother’s. ‘We’ll get reincarnated and it will be us beheading them soon enough.’

He tries to point with a chin to the group of fantastically shaped individuals who just cheated them in the traditional ball game, but the guard twists his arms further, limiting his movements completely. There is no source of light here, yet the executioner’s blade still manages to flash ominously.

‘Not that soon. And besides‘ ads Hun-Hunapu with a clear disappointment in his voice ‘the time progression shows you’ll be using my head as a ball!’

‘We can swap during the death-phase’ offers his brother.

‘Yeah… Still, it’s not your head that will be buried under the play field. You always get the better incarnations.’

‘Not so.’

‘No? And who did get to be Kain? And that time in the north, when you insisted I would be better incarnation of Balder?’


‘I can’t even think of eating venison or sausage after that unfortunate thing with Prometheus and don’t even get me started on our venture into Egypt. I still have nightmares of being dismembered.’

‘At least you got to spend a night with Isis, while I had to make do with Horus.’

Hun-Hunapu’s reply is highly unequivocal and completely non-verbal.

‘Look’ says Vucub Hunapu conciliatory ‘we both lose our heads this time and I promise you, we’ll swap places on the next one.’

‘Fine, just remember I…’ Hun-Hunapu never finishes as his head falls, lifeless, to the dark dust of the lowermost layer of Xibalba.

‘Cross my heart…’ mutters Vucub just before his head follows.

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