Attracts beauty [Freelance Storyteller] (fb2) читать постранично, страница - 2

crises, food shortages and terrorism. And in this fertile abundance…? You've got to be kidding me.

— The coast is a tidbit for which no blood will be spared, especially if it's foreign. Have you ever seen a war fought over something no one wants for nothing?

I remembered my dream. That's what it meant:

— You're right, Michael.

— Lina, promise me you won't tell anyone about this. Otherwise, I could go to jail for leaking classified information.

— I promise. But you, Michael, promise me you won't tell anyone about me. Or else—" I stopped talking for a second. — Or I'll be burned at the stake.

— Of course you will.

— Now take your shoes off. You need a bath. It'll get rid of your essence for a while.

He took off his sneakers. We got out of the car and walked to the spring.

I didn't want to see the entity. It was howling and spewing curses. So when Michael stood at the edge, I gently pushed him in without warning. As soon as he submerged, the entity disappeared.

He crossed himself and dipped his head three times. And then he called out:

— "Lina, look at this! — He began to bandage his shot hand.

I, on the contrary, moved farther away:

— And don't you dare throw me in the water!

Michael dived several times, and I drew holy water from the pipe into my hand and drank it greedily. Then I washed my face and went to the car. My stomach rumbled, reminding me that I hadn't eaten since this morning.

— I made you hungry. Let's go get something to eat," Michael followed, wringing out his T-shirt as he walked.

I thought to myself, appreciating his muscular torso:

— No, we need to go to the TV tower, from there I can see the house where they're holding your sister.

He's tense again:

— Who's the kidnapper?

— You don't know him.

— Is he hurting her?

— Not yet, but we have to hurry.

— What does he want?

— Her.

Michael got behind the wheel, started the car, and held out his hand to me. The wound on my arm had healed, leaving a small scar as a reminder. I couldn't help but run my finger over it. Incredible! He who endures to the end will be saved.

Chapter 3: The Guiding TV Tower

When we got to the TV tower, Michael climbed up behind me and kept me safe. When I got partway up, I felt a jolt and fell off. He caught me, holding me tight against him.

— The creature had found us. It's going to attack again," I warned, finding my footing. Michael covered me with his arms, and the creature slammed into him, but it bounced away and disappeared.

— The holy water on your clothes drove it away. Let's move on," I opened my arms.

Our lips touched. Michael wanted to kiss me, but I pulled away:

— I have a fiancé in the capital. When I turn twenty-one, I have to marry him.

As I climbed up, I heard him following me:

— How old are you?

— Nineteen.

— Then I have two years to talk you out of it.

— Give it up. Our families have agreed on this since I was born. He's a very powerful sorcerer. And I'm his Coast," I said and sped up.

When we got to the top, I looked down and tried to find the right house.

— Do you love him? — Michael wouldn't stop.

I thought I shouldn't tell him how much I hated my fiancé. There was no reason to jeopardize us:

— I love— And then I added, "you. I'm in love with you."

— Who is he?

"The man who killed my childhood friend," I wanted to scream, but I kept silent. My so carefully hidden memory came alive. I felt my presence there. The place where I was hiding and my fiancé was killing. The blood in my veins froze again.

— Who is he? — Michael repeated his question.

— Anton Silansky.

— The Silansky?

— Yes, the same one.

— The second man, after the president! An outstanding and strong politician, a rich heir, handsome, perfect and charismatic, — Michael stopped talking and thought for a moment.

— Yeah, perfect and charismatic. "Sadist," I hummed to myself and finally found the house. — See that gray-blue one with the peeling paint? — I pointed in the direction. — Your sister is locked in the basement of that house. Her kidnapper is a homicidal maniac.

Chapter 4. The Collector

After I told him about the maniac, Michael raced to the house like a madman:

— So my sister's kidnapper thinks he's the Beauty Collector. He finds, abuses and kills the most beautiful girls who appeal to his sensuality. You've seen four embalmed corpses in his basement in glass coffins that he admires at night. Why hasn't he touched my sister yet?

— Because she made him disgusted with her. She's soiled herself, and he's squeamish. He's getting up the nerve to clean her up. Besides, he just tortured and killed his fourth victim a couple weeks ago. Satisfying his violent compulsion.

Gathering up the courage to clean it up. Besides, he just tortured and killed his fourth victim a couple weeks ago. Satisfying his violent compulsion.

— What's odd is that he even kidnapped the sister right after the murder. He used to kill one girl a year. Now he's regressed? Is it possible that the real purpose of this kidnapping was to kill you?

— Or yours.

I'd already thought about who might have ordered me or Michael "dark," but I hadn't found the answer to that question, so I didn't speculate, but took the gun out of my purse and gave it to Michael. — Are you gonna kill him?

— Why?

— If you kill him, you'll take some of his sins on yourself.

— Then I'll try not to.

— We're already in position.

— Lock the doors and wait in the car.

— I'll go with you.

— No, you're the most beautiful girl I've ever known. I don't want him to see you.

— Okay, well, then be careful.

About ten minutes later, Michael came out of the house, carrying my sister wrapped in a blanket. I got out of the car and headed toward them.

— I tied him up and called the police and an ambulance. Take my car and go home. As promised, I won't tell anyone about you. I'll come and see you later.

— Okay. Okay. Don't worry about your sister. She's fine, she's sleeping soundly.

— She's fine? She's covered in shit.

— Desperate times call for desperate measures.

Chapter 5: The Astral

It was dark and scary, but there was no way I could turn on the saving light. I searched for the switch for a long time, then pressed the button to no avail. The light wouldn't come on. So I was asleep and an attack was imminent. I tensed even more. My body was yanked off the bed, and then something heavy landed on my chest. It was trying to penetrate me, and I was frozen with terror.

Suddenly I was transported to a small room with rough-hewn walls and an iron door. There was a tiny window in the ceiling that let in light. In the corner of the room was a bucket of toilet paper, and in the center of the room was a mattress on which lay a naked crying girl with loose hair. Next to it in a paper bag were two chebureks and a bottle of water. The girl got up and walked barefoot across the cold dusty floor to the door. After making sure the door was locked from the outside, the girl took the bucket and threw it at the window several times in a row, creating an incredible rumble, but the glass didn't break and no one came. "Soundproofing, so yelling is useless," she said aloud and sat down on the mattress and started eating. When she heard the door open, the girl fixed her hair and bent down to strike a seductive pose, trying not to shiver. She looked like a goddess imprisoned amidst the grayness, gloom and emptiness. A boy came into the room. He was breathless at her beauty, silently devouring her with his eyes for a while, then he put the knife to her throat, pulled her to him, and kissed her. I felt nauseous. I wanted to spit, but my mouth was closed. I wanted to scream, but I couldn't speak. "Jesus," I tried to whisper. It seemed like an eternity before I was finally able to open my lips and speak loudly: "Lord, have mercy." And then I woke up. I was still shaking with fear, though I lay still and tried not to move. "By "protecting" Michael and his sister, I'd gotten a side effect in the form of a night visitor. Their essence tormented me every night now, but this was the first time I'd ever dreamt about this girl.

Chapter 6. Dejavu

The doorbell