Ring of Madness

by Royden Labrosse

  [9]

  For the last few minutes, I've been frankly longing. Well, when will it all be over?! I tried calling Rokin, but his phone was off. The shape-shifter called back every 15 minutes. And I was ready to kill everyone here! There's no time, no brakes, no tail problems - and I'm supposed to listen to nonsense?! Your zebra!

  - Tell me, how can I tell where the devil is and where the disease is? How was it determined in Russia, and how - in the West?

  Who asked the first question, I did not see.

  - In the Latin West, the medieval inquisition to determine whether the devil had invaded a person suspected of witchcraft, or not, produced this experience: the suspect's hands were tied to the feet of his hands and in this position was thrown into the water. If a person did not sink and remained on the surface - it means that it is a witch or a sorcerer, and such a person was burned, and if he sank - well, in the kingdom of heaven went and had nothing to do with the unclean power ... Orthodox have never done so. We knew that the Lord can punish someone by Himself, it's not a matter of man to punish someone. State power is another thing, it can punish for some crimes. But it's not the Church's business. The very rank of ancestors - exorcism - came to us from the West, it is not in the Orthodox demand, especially in the demand of the Orthodox East.

  Yeah, that's a good check. Swim out (with his hands tied!) - witch. Drowning - forgive us, God's slave(s), the signs came out. Swim to the other world, and we'll pray for you with all society...

  - If a person's illness comes from prayer and fasting, it means it's a devil's intrigue. If it is not - it is either a disease or the devil is too strong and we have to pray, pray and pray, my children.

  Yeah, cool. A person with epilepsy, for example, should be treated with prayer and fasting. And to put pressure on his psyche, too. It's gonna make him even more ivy. And he's gonna die there, "honored."

  - For some time, the practice of mass imprinting has become popular. Please, a few words about your attitude to this phenomenon, called exorcism in the church tradition, is some kind of state.

  It's strange why such a question suddenly arises. And why is it? I thought the monks were the first to go...

  - I take it negatively. I don't think there are people with such a high spirituality who have such a gift. In the Kiev Pechersk Paterik, for example, there are only a few mentions of the expulsion of evil spirits. Probably, the enemies of the human race have weakened since that time, and we have a lot of the greatest saints, surpassing the reverends of Kiev-Pechersk in extraordinary gifts. Those who think in this way are seriously mistaken. Evil spirits have only become even more evil, and we have a lot of so-called young men or liars, whose activity causes a huge, sometimes irreparable spiritual damage. In addition, there are charlatans who put on robes, gowns and disgusting shows. There are a lot of "mothers" who do ordinary witchcraft - although only nuns and wives of clergy are called mothers - who are advertised by some TV channels. But only people who live outside the Church and the sacraments can be seen on them. True ascetics, who had such an extraordinary gift, received it after many years, and more often than decades, spent in ascetic works under the experienced guidance of unsurpassed mentors. These ascetics of faith were a model of great humility, avoiding the bustling worldly glory, hiding from human gaze. But the emptiness always tends to get caught in the eye.

  It has overwhelmed the cup of my patience. Wasteblossom? Wasteblood! I jumped from my seat.

  - I know that some confessors, instead of helping to fight evil, interfere in the private life of spiritual chadas, imposing certain life decisions on them: where to work, with whom to live, etc. What can you say about this?

  - It is unacceptable. We have good confessors in our monastery. They are really experienced fathers, not those young people who yesterday ordained, but today already have a staff of kelejniks and dozens, if not hundreds of spiritual chadas from among neophytes, who see in their pastors the pillars of Orthodoxy. And certainly, a priest has no right to somehow dictate to his or her spiritual child, what he or she should do and how to live...

  - Of course, as long as the commandments are observed?

  - The commandments are the cornerstone of our faith.

  - Does the words of your own Christ have meaning?

  - What do you mean, my daughter?

  - Well, Christ, for example, threw the traders out of the temple. And you have traders in your church. Christ said that everyone is equal - neither Hellenes nor Jews - and how many Jews were slaughtered in the Middle Ages. And even now you don't love them. A little bit, the squeal rises at once: the Jewish conspiracy, Judaism... And if someone belongs to another... nationality or has not quite normal abilities? Immediate rejection?! A sorcerer, a witch, a werewolf...

  - Yulia! - Rokin, who emerged from the air, grabbed my shoulder. - I think we'll talk about it later. Excuse me, brothers...

  And pushing me out the door.

  - Yulia, are you crazy to talk about...

  such

  in a church?!

  - Rokin! I'll blow your horns off! - an angry cobra stuttered me. - Did you invite me to talk or listen to lectures?! I don't have time for this nonsense!

  - And if I had spoken honestly about the lecture, would you have come?

  - No. In fact, your pastor and priest have a rare unpleasant aura. So... rotten.

  - Do you see any auras?

  - I see. Yours now, too.

  - – А…

  - Golden-yellow-orange with red and blue. Which means, I don't know. If you read your magazine, it's too vague. I need more literature. And your asses are almost all red-brown and orange. No yellow, no white. Grey tones all over the aura, they've got sore spots all over them. There are black and such dirty purple, dirty purple tones. It's a very nasty sensation at one glance. Did you find anything for me?

  - Yes, but not much. Here, take this.

  I stuffed a disc in my purse, bubbled "merci side" and headed for the exit. Rokin didn't fall behind.

  - Julia, weren't you interested?

  - I wasn't.

  - Not at all?

  - Okay, then. But just a little. Although I hope never to run into the demon-possessed.

  - Could you handle it?

  I shrugged my shoulders. And before my eyes stood Vlad, going to his family, to heaven...

  - You need other abilities for that. It seems to me that way.

  - You don't know your own power either.

  - Don't you?

  - I don't know. But I can help you figure it out.

  - To pieces? - I've been wondering.

  Rokin was embarrassed.

  - Yulia, I didn't mean it like that!

  - What do you mean? I don't know, but I do? Fix the plumbing with this approach!

  Rokin realized I was angry, so he got to the point.

  - I can take you to someone who also sees auras.

  And to do that, do I have to drag myself somewhere in the Optina desert or the wasteland? Or farther away, like Siberia? Shaz-z-z!

  - Is he here?

  Rokin wouldn't wag.

  - Yes. Can you hold off?

  - Lead the way.

  I firmly dialed the werewolf's number. I need to at least talk to someone about what I saw. Yes, you do.

  The werewolves were madly delighted, but they didn't argue. Rokin politely pointed me in the hallway. I turned around and found myself in front of a small door. The IPF knocked, waited from inside a soft "Come in", politely invited me inside. I giggled nervously. It suddenly occurred to me that the habit of letting a lady forward has a slightly different basis, and at the dawn of time women were let forward in a cave rather for exploration: is not there a predatory dinosaur lurking? The caves do not have doors, anyone can come in. Let the predator better eat his wife, and the crown of evolution will be able to carry the legs. But I said hello politely.

  - It's a good evening.

  - And hello to you, my daughter," said the pope in the chair softly. This one was prettier
: gray, good-looking, with blue eyes and a lean expression. Usually such fathers are told something like "Bless, Lord...". I'd like that.

  There's no desire after the first look at his aura. Religiousity never slept there. Rokin had more than that. And the pope in his aura had no shade of white or gold. So there's nothing to spill your nozzle on. Not the right frame to be honest with him.

  Not only that, communicating with vampires, but maybe Daniel's memory made me shake up.

  "It's a playground."

  - was whispered deep down by a woman with animal eyes.

  What makes me think that? It's like this. There are reasons.

  The room's a normal office. A desk, a chair next to a window. The opposite wall has two more chairs and a coffee table. The window is big. There are icons in the corner. At the other wall - bookshelves. Some literature, books in one with crosses on their spines. You know, on religious topics.

  The office is good as a work place. But now I can see it's just a set for a play. There are several reasons for believing in the sincerity of things. They climb in the eyes, wag their tails and make faces like those demons in the sermon. Apparently, they also demand prayer and fasting.

  First of all. Pop sits in a chair, opposite him - another chair, even if it looks very soft and comfortable. But I understand with the artist's gaze that anyone who sits in it will find himself below the head. In this position, a person is more vulnerable. And you don't get out of the armchair too easily. You'll have to lean on your armrests, you'll have to look ridiculous. And you'll understand that. And where there's embarrassment, there's destabilization. It's easier to push a man out of his way. Well, there you go.

  Second. Why is he sitting here, anyway? Tired and sit down and think about the fate of the world? It's possible.

  Except this place is weird. You can't even look out the window from here - it's just behind the back of the butt, and a soft evening light is pouring into it. Do I have to explain? The face of the butt is in the shadows, the face of anybody you talk to is in sight. There's nothing to hide, no emotion. And the chair at the table is as comfortable as this chair. And you can move it away. It's not a problem. Is that what brought him here to rest? It's uncomfortable!

  Third. The butt had nothing in his hands - no papers, no rosary... You sit at the table, thinking about something, then, staying in thoughts in the mountains, stood up from the table, walked around the room - and did not even take a rosary with you? Out, I can even see them from here. They're lying on the edge of the table, shining with amber. Oh, it's not a cheap toy. I can see from here that amber is natural, so characteristic...

  Really cheeky. Although if they'd known me a little bit better, they wouldn't have prepared that wretched playground. They think I'm a snot and they underestimate me? Looks like it. How would I behave now? Show me you're dangerous? You're gonna get high. They'd rather be underestimated. A modern fool turned in pop culture, a bit of a hammock, not too educated, a typical tradesman's granddaughter. Although if anyone calls grandpa a peddler... oh, I don't envy that kamikaze hero. At best, he'll have his teeth picked in the office. Worst-case scenario is the I.C.U.'s gonna be picking up cheek. Play them, like, a boorish student? Oh, you can do that.

  Will they believe it?

  I don't know. But we should try it. It's better this way than showing yourself too smart.

  "Por-r-r-r-r-r-r-r-r-r-r-r-r-r-r-r-r-r-r-r-r-r-r-r-r-r-r-r?"

  - suggested the beast from the mirror. And I smiled internally.

  - Okay, and you don't care.

  I walked around the room uninvited and sat on the table, moving a bunch of undoubtedly important papers aside. A couple planned for the floor. There was a roar of rosary behind them. Oh! I didn't do it on purpose, really, really! But it turned out great. Pop turned his back on me, Rokin froze at the door with a salt column.

  - Shall we talk, padre?

  - My daughter, you're using that word incorrectly. We don't have a Padre in Russia. It's a word for a Catholic priest...

  Pop slowly got up from his chair and walked around the room.

  - Yeah, I know. But a poodle, a bulldog, a mongrel are dogs. Whatever you call a dog, it won't be a cat.

  - Is it good to compare holy fathers to dogs?

  - You compare yourself to them. How are the... shepherds, right? Shepherd dogs around the herd? Isn't it?

  - Of course they're not.

  Don't you agree? Are you trying to take the initiative? Well, try it!

  - Well, it doesn't matter. Rokin invited me and said you see auras, too. Is that so?

  - My daughter, would you please get off my desk?

  - You can't have children, can you? My father was buried a long time ago, too. I didn't think to grant the request. - So we'll talk about auras?

  There was an outrage in the eyes of the pigeons. Yeah, let's finish our drink a little bit.

  - What exactly do you want to know about them?

  - Yulia Yevgenyevna. What about you?

  - You can call me Father Alexius.

  - Oh, that's great. Uncle Lesha. Do you see auras, too?

  - Sometimes.

  - How's that?

  - When I observe a fast and pray.

  I didn't like it very much. He has an aura like a rotten eggplant! How can fasting and prayer help him? Or don't they even help him to get some light?

  - And just like that? If you look at him like he's got lateral vision?

  - To see a human soul, you have to purify yours from the worldly," said the pop. - If a man is sinful, if he is burdened by evil thoughts or acts...

  That's it. My desire to speak has blown away like a burst ball. With an aura like his, is he also trying to talk to me about some kind of purification? Hypocrite! And it seems I wasn't dragged here to talk, I was dragged here to work on my brains like that.

  Fire me.

  I'd rather make mistakes, but use my head.

  - Sorry, guys, I gotta go. You guys stay. Talk about purification... a very good bucket enema. With pepper. Cleans it to the bottom of your heart.

  I jumped off the table and headed for the doors.

  - Why are you so negative, Julia Yevgenyevna? We haven't done you any harm, and you're like this... Humiliating, insulting...

  - Do I have to wait until you make me sick and then cheat? I'd rather kick in silence afterwards," I said politely. - Farewell.

  - Goodbye, Yulia Yevgenyevna," sang the pop with an obvious threat.

  - Yulia... - it's Rokin, confused.

  I snorted.

  - You have such an aura, dear, that it makes you nauseous. It's all rotten like a piece of beef after five defrosting. Your own magazine writes that the colors of faith are white, gold, at least blue. You don't even have green - solid red-brown, black and gray spots. It's rotten yellow. Dirty purple. And there's nothing to talk about. You're disgusting. And you have dead people on your conscience. And God hasn't forgiven them.

  You shouldn't have been so abrupt, but I was angry. Oh, fuck them. And I'm gonna go. Visit the vampire.

  I didn't make it three steps to the door when I was stopped by a powerful cold voice.

  - Wait, Julia Yevgenyevna Leoverenskaya!

  I turned back sharply. That's not the way to ask. That's how you order someone you're sure of. And they know: this man will obey unconditionally. But - me?! Orders to me?!