Ring of Madness

by Royden Labrosse

  Oh, what nonsense is going through your head...

  What did I want? I have a headache! And the sick one is bad. And at normal times there's not much intelligence there either.

  Okay. Let's leave the self-criticism aside.

  But we'll be glad. There's a real possibility of finding out the spy. We just have to find out how long Slava was in Tula, and then find out which of the vampires was there at the same time. If only Alfonso da Silva couldn't lend his assistant. So, someone from the Council... or Ivan Tula himself. There are no other options. Why Ivan himself? Because! Someone could've turned around without his permission. I'm not a vampire, but Vadim and Boris have told me a lot of things. From their lives, where they've been, how they've lived... Anyway, the Prince of the city on his territory is grazing absolutely all the paranorms. Without exception. And especially the vampires who are under his command. Because these toothpicks are individualists and anarchists. If you relax, you will immediately get the Great October Revolution on your head. It's easy. So Vanya's either in or out of it.

  And he's flying in today. How nice of him! Otherwise, we'd have to fly to Tula to fight.

  Oh, okay. Let's go back to my brother. Vanya Tulsky was a part of it. Well, that's a fact. Otherwise, his little animals wouldn't be walking around here. Especially Clarkin's brother. Slavka's been tracked. Slightly wrinkled. They put Clave in his bed with a comforter and a gentle friend. The girl froze my brother's head over the horns, and there was no need for hypnosis. The brave "knight without fear and dill" was inspired and rushed to save the "beautiful princess. The chase was also rigged, the goat understandable. It seemed strange to me that one sucker and one paddy could cope with the chase! They'd have been covered in a salad! And instead... SHE fought back! It's a laugh!

  And also... the paddy is really the weakest layer of werewolves. A pin would have torn Slava when he turned. Absolutely. But "she was able to switch herself to a bowl of meat."

  That's stupid, too. No matter what you warn a man, he'll still be scared when he sees the werewolf turn. Of course, it's not as bloody as it is in the movies. The filmmakers are twitching. But there's not much to be pleasant about. There's almost no blood, but there's a very specific type and smell of mucus. Innards are not shown, their hair hides them, but even to see how the bones of the face and the shape of the body change, there is little pleasure. Even I was scared the first time. And a scared person smells much more seductive than a bowl of meat, even if it's steamy. The flap couldn't resist if it wasn't stronger than it says. Why didn't anyone catch our girlfriend lying, by the way?!

  The answer was on its own. It could be her property. Like the sexual attraction of some vampires, like the speedy regeneration of some werewolves... the same Nadya, by the way. She wouldn't have survived that winter if the virus hadn't turned the rabid job around. She turned out to be super-responsive as a werewolf. Usually it would have been at least two weeks before the new shaggy one realized himself, flipped over and everything. But not that time. Hope you got lucky. Couldn't have been lucky. I wouldn't want to have this death on my conscience. I'd have survived, coped, gotten back to normal sooner or later, but I'd rather not.

  Oh!

  I've completely forgotten where this case started. The fucking call! R-r-r-reg!

  Well, get caught, you fucker!

  Although... why is he an asshole?! Because he ratted me out?

  Who am I, then? I ratted out a friend in the winter, too. Katya became a vampire. And in my defense, I can only say one thing: I had no idea what I faced. And neither did Seryozha. Come and tell the modern man about vampires. Standard reaction - you'll be offered a walk to the mental hospital. Or stop watching "Dracula". Exceptions are the Goths and the IPF. They'll believe you.

  Either way, the important thing is that it was Seryozha who lured me out of the house. Why would he do that? It's possible. Werewolves have a lot of good arguments: fangs, claws, just a soldering iron with a hammer. I should know - I tortured one during the winter. Until now, when I remember, I'll flinch.

  However, the guy who decided to meet me in a bad hour probably wasn't tortured. What for? If Seryozha was just promised a lot of pleasant feelings, he probably had enough of that. Talking to evil uncle is not a beer on the beach.

  So Seryoga should be forgiven. Okay, break legs, kick teeth, but forgive. But the rest... Killing these kidnappers isn't enough. We have a problem, Ivan Tulsky arrives tonight...

  It's not enough to throw me out. I felt sorry for the idiot on my head. Got away from the guards to explain to the young hero that we're not on our way! Wouldn't security have kidnapped me? What difference does it make? What was I afraid of, blackmail?! Or for Earring? What would Mecislav do to him? Did he break his arms and legs? But he'd let them live. In a word, I'm stupid, stupid...

  Let's get back to our bananas.

  Pin was lying to us. Like a blue mare. We believed it. Did she have a chance to leak the information?

  Yes, she did!

  If I had a dream about Mecislav, who says other vampires can't do it? Very much so. She could have dreamt about Cláveka, dreamed about Diego... or Diego himself, if she knew them... cher-r-r-rt!

  Of course she did. Of course they were!

  Let's remember Diego's sexual tastes!

  Spanish type, S&M. Which is what Clark showed me. The Spanish type is there. Black hair, dark eyes, but the skin is pale. But it's no worse than that. And S&M... Well, she complained! So what?! Who said she wasn't crazy? Maybe she liked it all. If necrophiles, pedophiles and zoophiles exist, why not be a modest masochist?

  So anything's possible. And if I get out of here, I'll check it out. By the way, isn't it... isn't it time? Leave humbly in English without saying goodbye... like a rotten piggy?

  But it's better to be a live pig than a dead lady. That's for sure. I looked around the room again.

  There's a window. Except the shutters are closed from the outside. You can break glass. How about breaking the wood? Blessed is the dreamer...

  The door? The door is locked. And there's no way to break it down either. Even though it's obviously chipboard. What am I, Bruce Lee?!

  Well, if we were to move into another room, maybe it'd be better suited for escape.

  Yeah, that's easy.

  I crawled off the couch, and I was ready to kick the door and yell that I had sleeping-pill diarrhea when I heard a noise outside the window. The car pulled up. And clearly not alone. That's weird. If it's a mysterious "owner," then who's he bringing with him? And if it's not?

  It never occurred to me to sit quietly. No way!

  What if it's after me?

  I rushed to the window. I don't care about the headache, it hurts, it means I'm alive! A humble stool in the corner came in handy. I crashed it on the glass, bounced off to avoid getting under the splinters, and shouted a good mat.

  - Save me! Help me! They're going to rape me! They're killing me! Sentinel!

  The footsteps were heard in the corridor. I kept screaming like a slice. But the footsteps didn't reach me. There was a noise from the ground floor as if something had fallen. Then there was another rumble. I was alerted and silent. Then I grabbed two shards from the window. If you wrap half a sheet, the other half can be circumcised for somebody. Guns are a good thing. That's right.

  It took about five minutes to make a homemade "dandy". And I lurked next to the door. God knows I was gonna sell my life for as much as I could.

  There's footsteps in the hallway again.

  - Yulia Yevgenyevna! Can you talk?

  Rokin! So I don't recognize him?! I wonder what he's doing here.

  - I'm here! - I shouted. - Open up!

  Somebody hit the door. One, another, third... there's a door on the third hit and fell inside the room.

  I wasn't in a hurry to throw myself at the rescue workers' necks. Rokin came in first. There's two other guys behind him, like "Slavic bivalve closet." Both with machine guns in their hands. Compact like that, cute, I think,
even with silencers. I immediately wanted to ask myself for a toy. But I had to abstain.

  Rokin took a quick look around the room. He noticed a few empty mineral bottles, an untidy puddle of vomit on the floor, a torn sheet, a broken window, and a short grin.

  - I wouldn't take you as a janitor!

  I'm out of breath. I don't think I'll even get kicked.

  - And I'm so kind, nice, fluffy...

  - You bastard. Why the hell did you go on a date with them?

  - How the hell did you find me? - I squinted no less suspiciously.

  - I was just on my way around your house. I wanted to park, come in and talk about yesterday, Rokin admitted. - And then I see you coming out, and into the park. While I was parked, while I was there... I was just trying to call you names, and then these things twisted you up. And into the car. I had to follow up, call the guys, and get in there.

  - Okay, I nodded. - Okay. I'll talk to you. When my sleeping pills go away. These freaks gave me something to drink, the result - I eloquently pointed to a puddle - on the floor. So I'd like to go home. And why did I go to them? I didn't know, did I?

  - What are those werewolves?

  - That's not news," I snapped at them. - I don't know how many there are, but they're all paranormal except for one fact.

  - And who's alone?

  - Rokin, why are you so small? You'd think I wasn't being looked after by your organization?

  Well, judging by the way one of the cabinets won, I hit the spot. And I went on:

  - Remember that guy I met on the beach? He was still trying to take care of me! That's what he called me. Asked me to come on a date, said he really needed to, wanted to see me, and he was jumping on the spot. So I went... stupid. You can see the result for yourself.

  - Did they say why you were kidnapped? - A second, unbroken "closet" intervened.

  I never thought of withholding information.

  - They wanted to wait for some mysterious "gentleman." He was supposed to come and do something to me. What and how? I don't know. They never gave me a name.

  - That's not good.

  - Well, what's so good?

  - Yulia Yevgenyevna, can you come with us now to testify?

  I looked at a guy in mute amazement.

  - In this condition? You'll get a new attack of nausea, not a deposition! I need to go home, get some treatment, and then I can talk to you. Who's that with, by the way?

  In response, I was presented with a Kostikov badge and a red ID.

  - Pikrinov Vladislav Mikhailovich. It's very nice to finally meet you, Julia Yevgenyevna.

  I rolled my eyes.

  - Konstantin Sergeyevich, your work?

  Rokin smiled.

  - I still hope, Yulia, that sooner or later you will be able to show others the same ID.

  - No, I'm not. Fire me from the police academy, - I snapped. - Plow like a cursed fool to be yelled at by an older fool? Rokin, can you even take me home?

  - Yes. But first I'd like you to examine the bodies and tell me if you know anyone," Pikrins said instead of Rokin "wardrobe".

  - I hope you didn't shoot anyone in the head? I threw up today.

  - Don't worry about it. The corpses should have looked decent by now.

  I nodded. I wasn't going to hide information from the IPF. These aren't our Tula flight guys. So let the Tula branch of the I.P.F. stand on its horns, do a search and sweep. And we'll live in peace.

  There were six dead bodies in total. Two vampires. Now they were lying in a row, and the sheet was suspiciously climbing on them in the heart area. Wasp stake, I'm guessing. Three werewolves.

  One was Carl. The sheet was soaked in blood around his abdomen. I stabbed the boy with my finger.

  - I introduced myself as Karl Karlovich Karelov. Maybe he was lying, but the combination is rare, easy to verify. He helped me when I was vomiting, and he told me about the gentleman. And this one... he was caught under the contents of my stomach, - I poked my finger at the neighboring werewolf.

  - We took him in the shower. And this one?

  The last body was a little out of the way. I went up and hunted it down. Not that I was shocked by the spectacle, but I had to show my emotions to the world. It wasn't very convincing, but it was. It hurt my head!

  - This is Seryozha. He was killed? He was killed how?

  The "Wardrobe" answered me after all.

  - They broke his neck. Definitely werewolves.

  That's weird. Why waste valuable material like that? Could have fed the vampires, too?

  - For what?

  I wasn't expecting an answer, but I got it from an unexpected source, one of the employees who carried the werewolves.

  - When we got there, it was still warm. He was killed when the assault began. You're lucky the evil one didn't get to you.

  - Didn't get to you? You didn't want to? Are you afraid of your "master"?

  - It's hard to say. But you were lucky," summed up the "wardrobe". - Didn't they say anything about that "gentleman" in front of you?

  - I knew it was a vampire, I didn't hide it, but who exactly... couldn't it have been one of those two?

  - I don't think so. They didn't even wake up when they were killed. Weak.

  - Indeed they did. So tonight a strong old vampire is coming here?

  My observation instantly switched all the attention of the IPF. Everybody got into a rush, and Pikrinov looked at Rokin.

  - Kostya, will you take the girl home? And have her call me when she recovers from the shock and poisoning. We'll have to draw up the documents, sign the protocol...

  Rokin wasn't arguing. Neither did I. The case was gonna be bigger than your ears.

  We kept quiet on the way home.

  * * *

  What eyes Gleb and Konstantin had, drinking beer in the car...

  The big ones. Baked like toads. Expressive-like...

  The glasses were lowered on the occasion of a sunny and warm day, so I was able to enjoy the anime eyes of werewolves. Yeah, you bet. You think your secure facility is in the apartment? That's where the FPI's bringing it in on the Volga service black.

  Not only that, they lead under the handle. And the view is very shabby.

  Now sit down and think what happened to her and where the object (and if it is a female?) has managed to get into trouble during this time.

  Rokin under the handle escorted me to the apartment, opened the door and gently, like a ninety-year-old grandmother, walked into the room and sat down in the chair.

  He sat down on the sofa himself.

  - Please bring me some water for a drink," I asked.

  Rokin shaken it in the kitchen. Meanwhile, I got rid of the costume jewellery. When the skin is sweaty, it's as irritating as sandpaper. More pimples will go...

  But actually, that's an option worth considering. What if Mechislav refuses to bite my pimple neck? If it goes against his aesthetic principles?

  Rokin gave me water and suddenly leaned closer. I wasn't happy to pull away. He'd still be in my chair.

  But as it turned out, Rokin wasn't interested in me, but in my... injuries. He sat down on the sofa and asked me in a secular tone (so it was clear: you can't get away with it):

  - Yulia, what's on your neck?

  I'm mentally fucked up. I completely forgot about the bite. Well, at least the beads didn't fall off. And now that I've taken everything off, the wound is clearly visible.

  - Do you have any idea what I might have on my neck? Clearly not a lover's kiss! - I was rude.

  Rokin didn't pay any attention to my rudeness.

  - Is that today?

  I nodded. You bet you did. It was this morning. But Rokin suddenly smelled it.

  - So I was late after all.

  I almost said "where?", but God, the patron saint of fools, was kind to me today. I was suddenly attacked by a horrible hiccup. I guess the werewolves remembered me in their conversations.

  And while I was holding my breath, it even reached me. Roki
n thought I'd been bitten as soon as I was abducted. Dissuade him?! Yeah, snap-a-a-a-a-a! Your skin is closer to the body, and it's good for the master.

  - I would suggest you wash the wound with holy water, but all the vampires in that building are dead.

  - Then I can be calm.

  - Maybe just in case... - Rokin took a metal flask out of his pocket.

  - Alcohol?

  - Oh, you're kidding me. Holy water! Today's water!

  I really wanted to say no, but now.

  I reached out, took a flask and poured some of the fluid around my neck. Right in the living room. I didn't want to go anywhere. And anyway, holy water isn't cola! It doesn't even need to be washed - it will dry out and there will be no stains.

  As I expected, nothing happened. The bite didn't smoke, I didn't convulse or even hurt. Why all of a sudden?

  I'm the vampire's surname... I'll ask him when I see him.

  - Well, the bite will pass with time, Rokin. - Yulia, now you see how nasty and dangerous these things are?

  - Yes, I did," I twisted. Especially yesterday I saw it. - Completely disgusting creatures. Disgusting and disgusting. But you can't shoot them off for that, can you?

  Rokin, to whom I broke a tirade about "squeeze them, Kravchuk, like cockroaches!", shaken his head.

  - Why wouldn't he? They just need to be destroyed!

  - That's what they said about big predators. Now the ecologists are ripping their hairs apart.

  - Yulia, do you equate vampires or these shifters with poor animals?

  - Why shouldn't I? Vaughn, the tiger president recently defended. Now the poor animals are going to be extinct for sure. And we'll study them on werewolves.

  - Yulia, you're deeply wrong.

  - So what? That's my point. It's not like I'm inviting you to believe in it. In fact, as long as you're at a worse price for me than those teeth... They just bit and you wanted to brainwash me!

  Rokin's darkened. Did you think you were gonna save me and I was gonna forget it right away? I'm not evil, I'm just evil and I have a good memory.

  - I owe you an apology for Father Alexius.