Your zebra! А!? Before I could get those magazines, the vampire had already been knocked out. Catch that Woody Woodpecker and put a cork on his beak to get it out of his ears!
- I was the one who was presented to the IPF.
- What is that?
- A stack of anti-vampire magazines. I'm going to look into the information...
- Fluffy, I'm ready to take part in the study at any time.
- As a visual aid?
- Imagine that. It's night. The full moon. A wide bed. You, in all black and leather, so strict and elegant, I'm completely naked and tied to the bedposts... in your absolute power...
From the piercing picture of the hands got colder, but in the stomach, on the contrary, warmth spilled.
As if I had imagined the described picture in reality, I saw the reflection of moonlight on golden skin, silk curls stretched out on vampire's shoulders, green eyes sparkling with desire, almost smelled apples and honey...
How tempting it would be to have such a man in your full power...
Yulka! Pull yourself together!! Wake up!!!
The subconscious siren sounded, and I exhaled at my limit:
- Yes... And I'm giving you a bucket enema! Romance pret!!!
And I welded the tube.
This vampire will always act on me like a powerful pathogen. I'm sorry.
And the papers have to be returned tonight. However, I can postpone it for a couple of days...
- No, no. The sooner you get their papers back, the better.
- Did I just say that out loud?
- I overheard you talking," said Nadia.
- Well, that's fine. Shall we go together?
- Yeah. I'll just wait for you in the car.
That was clear to me. And why he called me. The convent is not your usual country church. There's bound to be an IPF there. They'll recognize werewolves and vampires.
Can you tell me what's stopping them from doing it now? They'll run into each other on the street, and they'll recognize...
A lot.
The IPF know very well that there are vampires in town. And there's a prince of the city. But!
They don't know where the vampires are. And what they do. Watching a vampire at night is if someone is tired of life. And a werewolf...
Werewolves disguise their essence at any time of day or night. And vampires help them do it. Exposure to the brain is entirely their business. The earth hasn't given birth to the best hypnotisers yet. And unlike Messing, vampires are great at amulets. You can't tell the difference between a werewolf with a vampire amulet around his neck and a normal swing. And a werewolf, for example, in a wolf uniform, from a regular dog. Only a big dog. Caucasian, Saint Bernard... Vampire magic works perfectly. The only place it doesn't work is the so-called "holy land."
The Holy Land is NOT Jerusalem. And it's not Israel. These are places like churches, monasteries, all kinds of holy sources... In a word, this is a place where a single honest believer prayed.
And on the territory of the monastery rarely appear such. Yes, there are few. But there's more than one missing.
And the essence of the vampire or werewolf on the territory of the monastery will be visible to all IPF. You'd think they wouldn't get caught in the act. But why climb into the territory of a sworn enemy?
But I can get in and out in peace.
I'm a human being. And my magic is purely human.
The Wide Jeep was already waiting for us in the driveway.
- Hello, toothpicks," I said hello to Konstantin and Gleb, cleverly jumping on the footstep. Constantine, sitting in the back seat, grabbed my hand and pulled me inside.
- That's great. The chief called us. How's it going with the horses?
Nadia jumped in and slammed the door.
- It's started. How's Nastia?
- That's great. Julia, will you be in labor?
- You think I'm gonna miss out on an event like this?
Yeah. Who cares and the lousy ones have a bow. And this one, find out if I'm gonna be in labor. Constantine wants his baby to be born in peace.
Yeah, and I want to. If there's anything wrong with this baby, that is, twin kids, we'll lose the loyalty of half the werewolves in the city. And it's just that I liked Nastia. I felt sorry for her. Purely human pity.
- We're going to the convent. Mikhailovsky, - I ordered.
- I hope the trip goes smoothly this time? - Gleb asked.
I was hoping for that, too.
- Yulka, if we get shot at again, and I'm late for Dosino's performance - I won't forgive you in life - Nadia showed me her fist.
I snorted.
- If we get shot at, you won't be able to dosie. Why are you so attached to her, anyway? Does she even know how to sing?
- Don't you know?
- Am I listening to pops?
- Julia!
Nadia angrily torn the clasps of her purse - and sprinkled ten discs of Dosi's portraits in different poses (not erotic for a change).
- What, did you buy the whole store?
The irony has passed by the consciousness of a fan.
- No. I didn't have enough money for all the CDs. But I hope she gives me an autograph...
Gleb rolled his eyes and randomly chose one disc, stuck it in the tape recorder.
The "charming" music came out. Only shamans can dance to this. It's all drums.
Then Dosi's voice came in.
- I love your sweet fingers,
I love you sweet boys,
I love you, white bunnies,
I love you so much...
- Is that from the singer's biography? - Constantine was rusting.
I snorted. And I tried to wait for the new verse. Oh, bullshit. The lines were changing places, and the words were the same. ».
- It's not original. But maybe the second song is better.
- Let's see, - Constantine clicked something on the tape.
The loudspeakers spilled out the soul and it's irritating:
You'll fool me, you'll stop loving me...
You're gonna tell me loudly, uh-oh-di.
I'll take the baby and put it against my chest.
And I'll open the doors to nowhere. Forever.
What happens to my baby?!
Pink cloud, white pillow...
Sleepy face, pink piggy.
I kiss your ears with affection.
My sweet, sweet son...
- Turn it off, please, I asked.
- Yulia! - A friend outraged.
- Uh, no, I want to hear it. I did not assume, that the cloud, and even pink - it is a mankind, - Gleb reached for a tape recorder, Konstantin - too, the result was a sad death of a box from under a disk which got under Gleb's knee. Nadia squealed - and punched Gleb on his shoulder. I shook my head.
- You and I don't understand high art.
- That's right. They haven't grown up," the werewolf gladly agreed. - Nadya, what did you find in this pop?
- Just so you know! The milking sings like that! And how beautiful she is! It's an amazing combination of music and appearance! You just don't grasp the deeper meaning of her songs!
Mm-hmm. It's hard to catch a black cat in a dark room. Especially if it's not there.
- It's no use. P.R. hits hard on the unbelievable brains," I shook my head.
- And this music is even stronger," Kostya snorted, pulling out the disc and reaching out to Nadia with one hand. - If anyone else starts spinning this nasty thing in my car, I will drop it off. To the nearest ditch.
- Get in line.
* * *
- When?!
The vampire smiled. So far, everything's going according to his plan. And everyone around him is doing their part. It's so nice to imagine yourself a puppeteer! He pulled the rope and the puppets got caught with his legs. But some puppets are too stupid to do it - quietly. And not to interfere with the Creator.
- Soon. Today, or even tomorrow...
- Are they sure they can handle it?
- They have no other choice.
- Still, we are much stronger than ordinary people...
- But we are not gods. And a silver dagger in the heart or a severed head will comfort anyone. They will calm...
The vampire's lips were slipped by a predatory grin. Would anybody be scared of... fear? Disgusting? Disgust?
This smile on a pretty and even beautiful face caused the same sensation as a ball of mating vipers in a clear sunny glade. The more squeamish ones could throw up.
But not the second conspirator.
- Hurry up!
- Learn to be patient and wait for your moment. Otherwise, you'll never reach your goal...
- I'll be patient. And Mecislav is yours. But give me Leoverenskaya! I want to kill this bastard - personally!
- I don't need Mechislav either. When it's over, you can go and spit on his body.
The vampire's answer was a joyful smile.
- Maybe... I should go. When can I come to your place?
- It's better not to draw attention to yourself. Come back when it's clear. Tomorrow morning.
The door slammed quietly. The vampire was left alone. And I wonder again, how much dumber are humans than caracas? You can yell for a week standing over a pond, no fish will believe you. Even if you promised her a star from the sky. The fish need to be offered a delicious and delicious worm. And then it can take the bait and twist its tail. And here - just a promise, an empty word - and man (or vampire, werewolf, who cares?) is ready to do whatever you need.
That's funny.
But he could hardly contain his own impatience.
If things get together, he'll be Prince of the city in less than a month.
And Leoverenskaya is his name and personal battery.
The source is too powerful to be wasted or allowed to idle, as Miecislav does.
It's much more efficient to use.
And if she protests... ha!
There are things that work effectively with all women. First, of course, gold. Everybody loves money. Money and power are the two main keys to any person. No woman can stand up to emeralds or diamonds. And you can also offer her revenge. Women love it, too.
Of course not Elizabeth. She could come in handy. And for those closer.
If she cared so much for that painter's grief...
Well, no. Danielle was a good artist.
The vampire took a small rectangular and narrow object from the nightstand. Gently removed a few layers of paper from it. And he had a piece of canvas in his hands.
He had a vampire depicted as Nero. Or was it Nero with a vampire face?
On the throne, in the crown, with an orgy under his feet, all in gold and red...
The true embodiment of power.
The vampire smiled pretty good.
Well. That ointment really was a prophet sometimes.
A vampire wouldn't be so happy with the painting if he knew that Danielle didn't depict Nero at all, but a story from the Bible. With King Waltasar. And in the painting there was a stark lack of a glowing hand with its historical: "Mene, tekel, fares".
* * *
I honestly didn't like the monastery. I don't like people who have decided to serve God at all. And I want to ask you a question - and you asked him? And what did you answer?
If he answered, it's better to go straight to the asylum before you start biting. And if not...
Is that how the state benefits the monasteries?
Real, tangible, concrete...
No, it's not.
Except that the monastery is a hybrid of a mental hospital with a resort where occupational therapy is provided.
I understand everything very well, and I can even admit some benefit. What are churches for?
For the weak in spirit. Who have neither the strength nor the mind to say, "God is not to blame for my troubles. Himself a fool (fool)". It is clear to them that they need a last resort. He's left-handed. And God is perfect for this role. You can frankly say to everyone: "God does not give". Or "God punishes." Fortunately, my hand will not stick out of the sky and will not cast a finger on me, saying, do not hang all the dogs here!
Yeah, you bet. But to admit - the fool himself, so I drag on a frank alcoholic, instead of being hospitalized, or the fool himself, because lazy, stupid and arrogant - it is not everyone can. So they're running to church. It's a practical and tangible benefit. Again it is necessary to cry somewhere, to ask ... we can not go to the psychologist, naively thinking that the psychologist and the psychiatrist - one field of berries. And the scales to the priest.
But!
It's one pop. As a last resort, five grand a church. And the rest of the pack? Why the hell would the country keep a bunch of idlers?
They don't pay taxes. As far as I know, they're in a privileged position at all. And a friend told me that a pop in a jeep came to their shop with agricultural equipment (combines, seeders, blowers and other charm of life). A cheap jeep like that, just thousands for nine hundred. And an old one. Just a year, as it went on sale. Clearly bought with donations. Saved my poor dad's money, saved up and finally bought it.
Wouldn't fit in another car, though. According to a friend's modest estimates, it had 120 to 140 pounds. But he's the one with the swelling from hunger. That's right. Or Daddy's metabolism is just wrong... But it's definitely not gluttony. And he didn't even smell like garlic fat at all. That's a nasty lie! The post was just outside! What kind of lard?!
In a word, this pop falls in and asks to see the combine.
The guys are excited, they're about to sell... the percentage will get, do you even know how much the combine costs?
A lot.
Pop looked, walked, hung out...
And offered to donate the church's combine harvester. On an exclusively voluntary and gratuitous basis. It will be honored by them in heaven! Absolutely!
The guys are awesome. And they only had the strength to send a butt... not to the wrong place. Just to the bosses.
And the director, being in a bad mood that day, sent a butt... yeah, yeah. Exactly what's in there. You guessed it absolutely right.
Pop threatened with anathema.
The director is a dog.
Pop is a curse.
The director is store security.
Victory is friendship.
That is, when Vasya's Slavic wardrobe was erected on the doorstep and he melancholyly informed: "Chief, does this asshole not want to pay money? ", playing with a rubber baton and trampling his foot in his shoe almost fifty last size, pop gave up and flew out.
There's no anathema. So, a humble seven-story mother on both sides.
And why should I respect a church like that?
And why should I respect monasteries?
Yes, in Europe all brothels had a rest from them! And the Borgia family, what was it worth? …
I strongly suspect that we had a little better. It's just-- well-documented.
That's right, muttering and grumbling, I fell into the territory of the monastery, kicking some aunt three girdles wide off the road.
- Girl, where are you going?! - She cried.
- That way. Back off," I informed you.
For a few seconds, my aunt tried to chase me, something about insolent youth and my inappropriate appearance. Then I got tired of it, so I turned to her.
- Auntie, what do you want?
- That's no way to go to church! - She was outraged.
- No questions asked. I can walk on my hands," I looked around, threw a bag of magazines under my feet, and spun the wheel. By the way, Valentine had taught me how to make it for two months! And I learned to do it. The only downside was that I had bad direction control. And I could hit a wall. But this time it didn't hurt anything.
- Ah, uh... an aunt froze in place.
- You don't want it on your hands? Fall back, then!!!
I picked up the package and headed for the nearest lane, not paying much attention to visitors and residents. I want Father Pavel. And I'm goi
ng to find him.
* * *
A suspiciously familiar person was found in the church. She was kneeling down with her handles folded and her head down, and some man in all black was praying vigorously.
- Our Father...
I listened for three seconds. And then I was sharply nauseous, glowing flies jumped in my eyes, and my nose was hit by the ugly mixed smell of incense, sweat, and something hard-to-catch, like must, which appeared in old crypts.
If I were weaker, I'd faint there. Instead, I took three decisive steps and leaned over to the girl and whispered:
- Tikhvinskaya, get out of here for ten minutes.
Natalia, and that was her, looked at me with surprise.
- Leoverenskaya? What are you doing here?
- I'm in labor. What, you can't see?
- I can see that. Like this, and to church?
- Man is created in the image of God. And closing part of ourselves with all slimy rags, we commit blasphemy, closing the likeness of God," I answered hypocritically. - Where can I find Father Paul?
The man in all black raised his head, and turned out to be Paul's father, who had persuaded me to come into the bosom of the true church. But I'm not a pervert. Let the men go there. And I have a standard orientation.
- Julia? I didn't know you were friends...
Yeah. So what now? How do you make excuses?
Why should I make excuses?
- Such friends - for an exhibition in a museum. To relict hominids! We're classmates. Not girlfriends. Okay?
Father Paul shook his head.
- Yulia, you're always so aggressive...
- Do you two know each other? - I was genuinely surprised at Natasha.
- No, I cut it off. - It was an accident.
- Unfortunate?
- To call meeting the Holy Father a happy occasion is not my tongue turning. - I shook my hair, and I turned around. - Have a nice day, don't be dashing, remember with vodka...
- Yulia, wait, the priest tried to detain me.
But I was just running.
* * *
In the car, I plunged into the seat, pulled out an inseparable notebook, and started plotting the priest's face from memory. And then I fell into the semblance of a trance. The hand will find its own way.
Ten minutes later, the preliminary sketch was ready - and I looked at a piece of paper.
Mm-hmm.
Paragraph.
Several fires on which people burned were very schematically shown in the drawing. And next to them, on a hill, stood a priest with a spiritual face and gave a speech, shaking a cross. A cardinal's hat and robe, a spiritually mad face - it was felt that this was not faith, but a thrill from the obedient crowd and awareness of his power. The features of Paul's father, however, were recognizable.
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