I tried to get through the wall of the car. I did it! Well done! If I keep going through everything else, I'm not afraid of the walls! I have to check it out! Right now! And I'm headed for the green house with determination. It was easy and easy to walk. It wasn't snow under my feet, I didn't slide, I looked down and saw that I wasn't even sliding, I was flying three centimeters above the ground. That's funny. I tried to kick a pebble. It didn't work. My leg went through it. I tried it again. Yeah, fuck you! So I can go through, but not move objects. I can't make a drum. That's a shame... What if I talk to people? Will they hear me? Can't they hear me? And how would they react? There's some drunk guy scratching at a bottle of vodka. That's very convenient! I'm going to experiment now! Fortunately, after the fifth litre this guy will not remember his name, not just some voices!
- Hey, man!!! - I've been screaming all over the place, getting in his way.
The drunk shuddered and stared at the sides. Do you hear that? Or did he not?
- Drop the bottle, asshole! I'm gonna blow the horns off!
The drunkard rubbed his ear and moved on, shaking his head. Yes, I found something to ask! Drop the bottle! Of course, he didn't hear anything. And if he heard, he didn't understand, if he understood, he didn't! I caught up with the drunkard. Don't miss the only passerby on the street! And then - such a wonderful object for experiments! Let him try to complain about the ghost walking through it! He'll be listened to with great interest by his roommates... in the local mental hospital. The first thing I did was stick my hand in him. Zero attention! I pushed him! Zero attention again! I got so naked that I just climbed inside him and stuck my head out. There was no desire to look at the unfortunate half-stone liver and sick lungs (and I could see it all perfectly well if I stuck my head in it). At least I had an ear, damn it! It seems that ordinary people can't see me, hear me and feel me anywhere. What about vampires? I got back in the car in a hurry.
- Danielle!
The vampire didn't even lead with his ear. And what does that mean? That that drunkard is closer to my spirit than the vampire who put the seal on me? At least the drunkard looked around, and there's nothing. Or does the stall open much easier? Alcoholics' brains are so relaxed they'll take any otherworldly crap? And a vampire, of course, doesn't expect anything like that. And he can't hear me. Well, that's fine, if it is. I didn't dare to go inside Daniel. You don't have to. I'd rather be placed so that no one touches me, not even accidentally. In the wall, under the ceiling, on the chandelier... Didn't I learn how to fly? I tried to get up above the ground and fly through the roof of a car. I did it! Ur-r-r-r-r-r-a-a-a-a-a-a-a-a-a-ah! All right, hold on, Pokémon! I'm coming, scary and terrible! First we're going to recon, and then we'll see. I'd love to help out my vampires, but I'm not Lara Croft! If I try to do some karate or judo, the enemy will die - but with laughter. And I'm gonna hurt myself. My clumsiness is almost a family legend. Well, that's okay. Now I am a ghost, and ghosts can remain invisible, even turning everything in its path.
And I spanked decisively to cabin number 124. And I looked out the window for starters. It was no big deal. It's like a house. It's like that song. "A small house, a Russian stove, a wooden floor, a shop and a candle..." Yeah, "...and the kids in the house of the hora..." But I didn't think it was happiness. Kids with guns, claws, fangs, and every kid's gonna mince me in three minutes. And then he'll eat me without salt. But I gotta go. I won't forgive myself if I chicken out. And I brazenly climbed in through the wall. Perfect saboteur! If I could move objects, too! I've had more than enough of a knife! All the pererages and I'll rust! But where is it? Poltergeists can move objects! I wish I could learn! But where can I find a poltergeist?! I don't have time to study. I don't know how long I can stay like this. Or I'll go back to my body, and it's either not mine or dead. It's a dubious pleasure.
For philosophical reflections, I wandered around the rooms. No one. It's empty. No one at all? Nonsense! I shook my head. That werewolf didn't lie. Danielle wouldn't let it. And I was very convincing. At that moment, no one would have lied to me. But it's empty! And then what? Well, nothing. "Wolf Fight" is also a nice place. But if it's under the house...
I stuck my head firmly down through the floor. And then I almost fell down on my own. I guessed it! Oh, I'm so good! Well done and beautiful! Shouldn't you be cheering yourself up in front of the heavy front line? Yes, I do! And in fact, you can't praise yourself, nobody can praise you!
My head ended up in a little room. There were several coffins standing there. Six grand, to be exact. And three of them were vampires. Not mine. I even flew in closer to see them. These vampires were completely unfamiliar to me. The closest thing to me was a tall Caucasian-type brunette. A distinctive nose with a hunchback, puffy lips, sharp cheekbones... A black strand falls on a dark forehead. I could easily imagine him as Mtsyri. How old was he when he died? Twenty? Twenty-three? The white robe emphasized the swarthiness of his skin. The robe swung open on his chest, and thick black hairs were visible. In the next coffin was a vampire... no! A vampire! Tall and pretty blonde with long, waist-length, straw-yellow hair. The Barbie doll was definitely made from her. The same pretty face without the slightest bit of personality. Lying there, naked... Although vampires don't freeze when they're asleep. I involuntarily remembered Katka. That one, at least, was original. Not a Barbie doll, but rather a blonde beast. And if she were a normal gray mouse like me, she'd still be alive. So, who's the third one to the dentist?
I didn't know the third vampire either. But it was no big deal. Brown hair is styled with careless curls, the face isn't pretty, but it's not without personality. And muscular, like Schwarzenegger. The short shirt and denim shorts did not hide a strong young (I wonder if he is a hundred years old or more?) body. This Dobrynia Nikitich. I would have painted a portrait of the hero from him. If I could draw. But for now - yay? Yay, just be quiet! You can't count on vampires to protect the mansion. They can't get their asses off the coffin even if the ceiling falls on them. Although it doesn't make me feel any warmer or brighter. What, twelve werewolves aren't enough for the two of us? Danielle is not a fighter by nature, and as for me, I'm not a fighter, I'm a brick on my feet! They're gonna rip him up, they're gonna unravel him, and they're not gonna look back. I shrugged my shoulders and flew to examine the other rooms.
Careful sticking her head through the right wall. It's no big deal. Security room. Six werewolves sitting down and cutting into a preferential. And another one in the corner is asleep. Ready for work and defense. I didn't even look at them. And without talking, I dived into another wall. And I wasn't wrong! I'm in the right place! There were four tables made of sheet iron in a room covered with plastic. And two vampires were tied to them. The same ones. Boris and Vadim. There were two werewolves studying each of them. One held a cross in dangerous proximity to the vampire skin. The crosses shone an unbearable light, even for me. And what about my poor friends?! Higher Powers! And the other werewolf was working on the vampire itself. From Boris, the lace has been cut so far. Vadim had something burned on his chest. I couldn't be more specific. I just took one look, and suddenly I felt sick. Not in a physical sense, but in a spiritual one. Do ghosts faint? I think I'm about to find out. I've never been touched by anything before. But now that I've been tortured by vampires I care about... I'm really scared. I don't know if normal ghosts feel pain, but I felt as if my chest was crammed in with unwashed paws and slowly, tastefully, with a sense of purpose and alignment ripping my heart out of it. I really wanted to fly out of that creepy room or at least turn around, but the body temporarily disobeyed me. I bent against the wall in unbearable pain and horror - and at that moment another werewolf entered.
- So, how's it going?
I'm staring at a newly arrived vivisector. The man was tall, black-haired and pretty handsome. About 40 years old. These are portrayed as decent businessmen (what a pun!) in cartoons. And it would be worth depicting, if not for the cruel and arrogant expression on his face. It was very suitable
for his suit, clearly bought not in the market, and polished to a mirror shine shoes. I've seen these at the boutique recently. And they were worth, give me a damn, about eight hundred euros. Which means the suit... I swore I'd find a modest Versace on the label. And the head of a jellyfish. Or some other dirty thing.
- We're working, Chief," one of the werewolves said.
- Well, work, work, work, work, work, work, work, work, work, work.
And now I exploded. I just got flattened and swayed like a junkie in a snap, and now I was choking with rage. What made me so pissed off, I still can't answer it. Either that werewolf's face, or his thousand-dollar suit, which only tortures people, aesthetes, or that bar-like, high-profile tone. I don't know. But I suddenly felt a wave of fiery rabies rising inside me. The pain was changing its shape. I could move again, but now I wanted to beat, I wanted to grab the executioners' hands, tear, tear apart, break bones, drink their blood...
I rushed out of the torture chamber so I wouldn't mess things up. Anyway, even if I get involved with someone, I won't kill them, I won't beat them, but I'll light up myself, and I'll do it qualitatively. I flew very successfully - into an empty room, which served as a kind of storage room. There was all kinds of rubbish in it, which I had no desire to consider. I could cope with myself. I told myself to calm down, but where is it? The rage grew, overlapping the edge. One could only remember the polished shoes or the suffering on Boris's face... All self-control was disappearing somewhere, and a fiery tornado began to spin inside again. It had to be spilled out somehow.
But how?! Well, I didn't know that! If I was in my body, I'd either be pounding plates or arguing with someone... Very well helped by the trolley ride. Someone was pushing me, I snapped, I started to argue - and I went outside from the transport, fresh as a pickle. I didn't know anything about my lover before, but now I knew what was happening at that moment. There was too much energy in me. And scandalously, I threw its excesses at other, often innocent people. Not too good, of course, but where do you go? Imagine a cellophane bag being poured with water. A liter, two, five, ten, thirty... One day it will burst - and it will be over. If you don't throw that evil force over the edge. But how do I do it now?! Anger grew, overlapping my consciousness with scorching waves. Either I get rid of that rage, point it at something, or it will burn me. I tried my best to turn it around on another target. And while I was losing the battle.
Something was twitching and stuck in the corner. I looked around. Rat! What a big rat! It's like a cat! Big, fat, with a long naked tail... At another time I would have yelled and rushed away from a disgusting animal, but now... Now I wouldn't even care about the head of a fire-breathing dragon! Why not splash out at least part of my evil on a rat? It's a pity I can't hit it. I really wanted to throw or break something, but in this body I can only talk. Not so much, but better than nothing at all!
- Bitch! - I said it loudly. - You filthy naked-tailed creature!
The rat froze and listened. Do you hear it? Me? Or something else? But what?
- Obey me, you beast! - I shouted in such a way that I was almost blown to the opposite corner myself. I don't know why it occurred to me. But all of a sudden my rage is a little less! You got a way out?! I didn't know that. It was a strange feeling. I looked into the beady rat eyes and saw not just blackness, but Razum! Another, foreign, disgusting to me, but the mind and will that I could now break, could subordinate, could do with the rat all I want - and she would not object to me. I was quite sure of that. And I slowly pressed my mind against the rat, literally feeling how something in the little brain was changing. From freedom to voluntary and joyful submission. Isn't that how vampires subjugate animals? Or is there something else? The rat looked at the place where my ghost was. And I barked:
- Come to me, you beast!
I don't even know what pulled my tongue. You want to check it out?! Or just like that? But the rat suddenly ran up to where I was standing and stared at the air with beady eyes. Its mustache was moving. It looked like it was smelling the air. Does she smell me? Does she smell me here? Is she coming at my call?
Julia Leoverenskaya as Gamel Rat? That's funny. Funny or...
- Get in there," I ordered the rat. And I pointed my hand at the corner.
Zero attention. Or zero understanding?
- Go to the left!
Zero attention again.
I flew off to the left and already called for a rat.
- Come here!
The rat squeaked quite a bit and ran up to my feet.
Yeah, that's it! They're coming at me, but they're not coming at all. They don't understand the words. How many rats can I obey? Alone? Or...
Fury in the chest was burning with a bright flame.
- To me, to me, to me, to me, to me...
I stood in the room, spinning my arms wide apart, and repeated these words like a mantra. But mantra is just a monotonous repetition of phrases. I put all the power, all the rage, all the anger and hatred in every letter. I had no hope or fear of anything. I had only one desire - revenge. If you can't kill yourself, then you must gather an army. And this is my army. The room was gradually filled with rats. Big, fat, fattened, filthy... Just like that werewolf in eight hundred euros of shoes. And they all stood there and looked at me. The place in the space I occupied. And in the little eyes where you can't turn, I read the same thing. Obedience, admiration, adoration. They were ready to do my will as my own. And even dying, they'd be happy. Now I was almost happy. Ah, if I could get them out of here and set them on those bastards! The executioners have no mercy! Not in any form! But how do I get them out? The walls are no obstacle to me, but the onslaught of my army must be united and unstoppable. The idea came suddenly. Shouldn't these fools react to the noise in the back rooms?
- Beep! - I ordered the animals. - Voice! A fucking voice!!!
The rats were hoarding. At first shyly, but then louder and louder.
- Harder, louder! - I cheered them up. - Louder, my children!
The squeak even made my ears hurt. What was it that made werewolves crazy? Or shouldn't they? I really wanted to climb through the wall and see what was going on, but I was afraid to leave my tailed army even for a minute. I didn't know if I could control them from a distance. And I couldn't take any chances. If they run away, it'll have to start over. And I don't know if I have the strength or the anger to do it! I don't know anything! I don't even know how much time I have left for the whole concert! And the sweetest music I could think of was the rattle of the key in the lock. It was turning with such force that I understood that the last time they climbed here was just under King Peas. And the key wasn't found right away! That's what it is... That's why they didn't open it for so long.
- Kill them all! - I gave the order. - Everyone who walks and talks! Everyone alive!
The rats listened carefully, but did they understand? Or did they not? I'll know that in a few seconds! The door swung open.
- Kill them!!! - I screamed, putting all the rage I had into my voice. - KILL THEM!!! KILL THEM!!!
And the rats rushed forward.
I used to laugh at Boussenard's stories about ants that even elephants run from. I also laughed at someone else's stories about migrating lemmings with nothing left in their path. It would seem what such a trifle could do?! Cut them off to a famous mother! You shouldn't have laughed. The rats rushed out of the room in an unstoppable grey stream. I had no idea there were so many! They were all coming and going from the room, and I was soaring in the air and looking at it with my confused eyes. I don't know how all the other werewolves were there, but I think they dared in the first three minutes. And those two who opened the door, I never even saw them. There were rats feasting on them. These two big gray, moving comas. From time to time one of the rats flew away, but the other immediately took its place. The werewolves just didn't have time to flip over and fight differently. The moans and screams of the people who were eating alive came out of the heap, but gradually they calmed down.
And I enjoyed them like the sweetest music. I so wanted them to last forever! They were the only ones who comforted the rage raging in my heart. But the screams subsided. It's a pity. I rushed through all the other rooms.
My army was doing great! I couldn't think of a better way to get revenge, even if I'd been sitting over books for a week. Werewolves ate everyone. And the vampires? Boris and Vadim lay chained up on tables, but the crosses above them were no longer glowing. I saw Vadim, who got a little less, raise his head and immediately drop it back. Poor man. Boris wasn't even moving. He felt as bad as Daniel did the first hour we met. On the floor there were four extremely disgusting gray comas.
I rushed into a room with sleeping vampires. Touch them? Or should I not? If Andre can feel all the vampires in his vertical, he'll feel the death of these three. And he's gonna send an extraction team over here. No, that's not the point. I can handle vampires on my own. With a cross on my forehead, it's awesome. I rushed back to the break room. Seven's not lumps anymore, but skeletons. And the rats are moving on the floor with a solid mat and looking at me. Do they see me or feel me? The rat is an animal. Not without reason they are used in all legends for potions, and in Russian fairy tales they are honored and respected. Mouse-mouse, here's your poop, just dance for the bear instead of me...
Ring of Madness Page 57