Natalie Yacobson "Mutilated. Crypt of the Seven Angels"

Claire pulled aВ knife from her pocket toВ feel his weight inВ hand and chill blade. Her oppressed the feeling that something terrible is approaching. Maybe it seemed because ofВ the gloomy atmosphere, which was created around the house too crushed roses. AВ little more, and they will stop skipping daylight into the windows.

Claire squinted on aВ bright sun. She remembered that today is Sunday, and inВ the church must be full ofВ people, but, toВ her surprise, there was aВ few parishioners. They just took the communion. Claire managed only byВ the end ofВ the service. InВ aВ strange way, no one paid attention toВ her causing teenage outfit: aВ narrow jeans and aВ short top that opened aВ tattoo inВ the form ofВ roses on the stomach. All behaved as if Clair was not here. She could not remember when the last time the parishians inВ the church showed such politeness. It must only be inВ the Middle Ages inВ Venice, when it was allowed toВ go toВ the church even toВ the courtesans toВ look among the parishioners their future customers. But here it was necessary toВ be different.

Claire leaned toВ the marble column inВ the shade and began toВ consider the angels drawn inВ simpleness and under the dome ofВ the temple. She had toВ head her head toВ see the drawings that she liked the most. Unfortunately, they were set too high. If you look at them for aВ long time, the head begins toВ break.

But they were drawn toВ masterfully. Claire almost heard the rustle ofВ the angel wings, when she looked at the frescoes. Beautiful faces looked strictly and with indescribable torment. How their beauty is contradictory.

Claire looked down and flinched. It seems toВ be burned fire. Again! AВ young man with blond hair and aВ surprisingly beautiful face came from aВ bowl with communion. He did not even look toward Claire, but she could not take aВ glance from him. What is inВ him, inВ this young beauty? She saw young men and much more nice, but from the type ofВ this she was like shocked. The feeling was as if she was thrown into the fire, and she could not move inВ it. Punch inВ the head, kick inВ the heart! So people are driving crazy. But it was not love at all and not even sympathy. The face that she had long tried toВ restore inВ memory was completely different. Nevertheless, this stranger seemed like this similar.

Claire was worth aВ lot ofВ effort toВ get out ofВ the church and sit on the bench inВ the courtyard. The feeling ofВ fire and sunburn inВ the mind did not disappear. And what is the actually, she saw? She became somehow alone. she wanted this feeling gone. She did not even know how toВ describe such aВ strange state. You see someone, you pierces you like aВ fiery pin and you are not alive, and neither are dead. The light ofВ the day is fading before this sensation. You wonder for aВ moment cease toВ live.

It never happened to her. Until recently. They said that something similar happened to people who are too often going to the sacrament – the devil begins to tempt them. But today she did not even approach the bowl. The priest vainly turned a look at her. Claire did not allow herself to lure. She loved to consider the churches because of the abundance of sculptures and paintings in them, but church rituals revered on it. As well as what women need to cover their heads in humility. She was not going to humble before anyone, even before God.

В«You are so similar toВ him,В» the voice whispered just the samely recognizable. В«He also did not want toВ humble before anyone.В»

Claire nervously shook her angel curls. This time she knew firmly that there was no one near. There is not even aВ mirror that can scare her. But the pool ofВ water directly under her legs reflected something strange. Claire got up from the bench and went away.

Horror Museum

The sun just stood in Zenith. Claire squinting from bright light and immediately noticed a dark shadow. At the portal of the church just stood a stranger, who in the first moment seemed very beautiful to her, and only then she noticed the ugly scars on his face. He passed past Claire, as if he did not notice her at all. But she turned around to look at him again. He was dressed somehow old-fashioned and squeezed in his hand some sharp object. Claire even checked, whether her own pocket knife is in place. Didn’t this man stole him? The knife was still lying in her pocket, and the stranger just disappeared into the passage of the church. A second Claire fought with the desire to go behind him. For some reason it seemed to her that this should not be done, no matter how much she wanted. Some inner instinct warned her: «Run!». This time she listened to it.

Today’s warm day was worth spending in the city center among majestic buildings and fountains. Claire went to look at Big Ben. Moving hands of huge clocks always attracted hert strongly. Clock! Time! Natural and countdown. Fairy tale about stolen time every time went to her memory for a long time. Today, some birds flew away from the Big Ben. One of them scratched Clair on the shoulder. Everything that happens more resembled sleep. Claire did not even immediately feel pain and blood. She recovered the ruffles of a short top so that they were not smeared and went to wash off the blood in the first fountain, which turned up on the road. Water pleasantly cooled the wounded skin. Claire did not immediately notice the dark reflections in the fountain. Wherever she go today, it seemed to her that some kind of gloomy shadow was moving everywhere after her.

Looks like the consequences of the sunshine. Claire ran his fingers along the bare abdomen. She recently decided to make piercing. Fancy earring over the navel looked pretty elegant. Near the tiny tattoo – rose in the fingers of the skeleton. Black gothic on lily skin! An innocent angelic appearance she attached something dangerous. Claire is tired that everyone looks at her, as at a harmless angel. She wanted to be at least something defiant, and not innocent. A little bit it succeeded. Tattoo and piercing were a kind of rebellion against angelic indispensability. Claire would not dare to paint her golden curls in black or red color, but thought that it would be nice to braid a pair of braids or to make dreadlocks. Her beauty attracted admiring views of the majority of passersbys. Women looked with envy, male with delight. As far as Claire remembered herself, she always enjoineds an increased attention. She did not even fit in her head, as someone from the crowd could suddenly attract her herself, and even before pain.

Claire still felt some alarm. She was scared that something like this could repeat again. This pain…

Claire frowned. Where does this pain come from? You can understand when her beloved person or knife provokes it, but just strangers in the crowd, with whom you do not want to have anything in common… Is it not strange?

Claire remembered aВ flash ofВ pain, aВ shortage ofВ air, aВ fiery current throughout the body and aВ vague feeling ofВ the unreality ofВ everything that is happening. And then you needed toВ come toВ youself for aВ long time. She was afraid ofВ repeating all this, as people toВ be afraid ofВ aВ fluttering fire. Burned once, and the second is already afraid ofВ approaching the flame. But it cannot be shifted at home and no longer go outside toВ see someone inВ the crowd.

Sit days for a long time for creative work – it’s great. But only the work can be crazy. Sometimes you need to be distracted. Claire thought that today it would be nice to go to the museum, then sit in a cafe. She pulled away from the fountain, and someone passing by perfectly pushed her. Claire was surprised to turn him out. Yes, it was clearly not a member of the «Whites» club, she concluded with humor. And really not a typical Englishman. The inhabitants of England are usually distinguished by politeness and cold restraint. The rude person looked more like a foreigner. What an unpleasant type! Be she a guy, and would give delivery. But the girl of a fragile physique is better not to get involved in a fight. Perhaps the guys from her school company were right, and she would have a defender with her, but Claire did not want to sacrifice the sake of it even a part of her daily independence. So what had to be squeezed.

She thought where toВ go: inВ Tower or inВ British Museum. And inВ the first, and inВ the second she was already many times. Clair walked down the street, throwing off the coin. Heads or tails? The coin suddenly slipped out ofВ her hands, just at the door ofВ some unfamiliar building, seemingly similar toВ the museum. Claire drew attention toВ how beautiful doors are. Gilded bas-reliefs on them created the effect ofВ fabulous luxury. Instead ofВ aВ handle or aВ head ofВ aВ lion with aВ ring, they decorated aВ certain mythical creature with aВ triangular ring inВ the mouth. Beautiful and aВ little frightening. She spent trembling fingers over the connecting wings and the horns ofВ aВ fabulous head. The chill ofВ copper turned out toВ be pleasant.

В«Beautiful, yes?В»

Claire reluctantly nodded, not even turning toВ the voice, which sounded right behind her back.

«This is a water dragon – Vivern.»

В«What?В» She was frightened byВ hearing almost the scientific name ofВ fantastic creature. How can aВ fairy tale study like science.

There was no one behind her. Only creatures similar toВ black cats ran away from aВ neighboring building. Such quick that they were impossible toВ consider inВ detail.

Claire entered the museum and was surprised byВ how it was empty. Curators and controllers were so fixed, which seemed part ofВ the exhibits. Although she entered without aВ ticket, no one stopped her. Probably today is aВ free passage.

Claire rose through the front staircase, covered with aВ red carpet. She looked around marble walls with niches, crystal chandeliers, burning even inВ the afternoon, and bizarre tiles. InВ the span ofВ the stairs rose aВ statue, not aВ typical muse or an antique goddess, and the most dragon-like maritime deity, as before the entrance. Only here it was portrayed inВ full growth and inВ exquisite clothes, with aВ mask on aВ monstrous face and watery tails, discovering from under the cloak. The sea dragon was similar toВ Venetian. Capturing spectacle!

Claire did not regret that came here. The museum was very different from all those she visited before inВ London. If only it was aВ museum. OfВ course, closed frames, velvet barriers and illuminated showcases with inscriptions exactly copied the atmosphere ofВ the museum, but there was also something that made it forced her toВ feel like inВ the palace, full rare, and not at the exhibition.

Art galleries, uprisites, shows of historical modes – everything that she saw before, did not make any comparison with the exhibits collected here. Claire expected to see a couple of Egyptian halls with mummies and other relics of ancient civilizations, but here everything was sustained in the spirit of Venice: masks, decorations, paintings, parts of the Gondola, Domino and Baututes, are suitable for mannequins. All items here were clearly old, and at the same time something inexorably attached to the museum atmosphere of Lafcraft stories. Next to the verses and beads, the figurines of some incredible marine deities were minted. Beautiful and exquisite half masks alternated with fabulous masks and suits that look like heads, cut from the torsoism of mythical and terrible creatures. The masks pushed on Clairer with fish and dragonfle eyes, released the mermanese of the membrane, abounded by the tentacles of octopus. Next to the masks of owls, heat-birds and peacocks, terrible faces of Krakens, Mavel and the Scaly Sea Devils were sheltered. Claire did not imagine that corrigans and mermaids could be so frightening. Even the mask of the tragedy would not impress the way they are.

It was better to concentrate attention on something harmless. The museum had full luxurious and elegant items. Pipe tubes, musical instruments, capes and hats, decorated with feathers of a wide variety of birds. In one of the halls, even the golden gondola was equally placed. Velvet’s shrink was raised, and two discarded devil masks could be seen on the seat. They were very luxurious, framed purple feathers. But even they were not frightened as the masks of marine creatures. Instead of the gondoller on the nose stood the stuffed of the same sea deity in a dark cape and with an oars in the form of a water snake. Vivern – so called someone at the entrance. Claire carefully looked at it and seemed to see something vaguely familiar in it.

Sheets were lying on the stern with the words ofВ ancient barcarol, and some parchments, similar toВ spells or aВ contract with the devil.

If it would not be an abundance of old exhibits, Clair would call the luxurious building as the horror gallery. It reminded a palace. Gilded door flaps were all open, and she could wander here for hours. But it was worth a look at some subject, for example, exquisite scheduling in the shape of a siren on the wall, and some sinister detail immediately rushed into the eyes, like seafood skulls in wells for candles. Hourglass was supported by sea skates with angrily sparkling eyes, Venice’s views on the walls were overshadowed by predatory mermaids, embittered in the bottom of the gondola, sailing over its head. Some mermaids have joined the ship, pulling out entire boards from them, others watched people from the channels. Nobody imagined such Venice. Even Claire. With all her rich imagination, she could not diversify the usual Morina with such terrible details, combine the embittered world of mythical creatures and a city with channels renovated by people. The spirits of the elements, were angry at it. Or at all who lived in it?

Claire shook her head, scattering gold curls on shoulders. Well well! What will not come up inВ the world. Although they say that any fiction as aВ necessary foundation must have aВ little truth. Where is the truth here? Claire stared at one ofВ the paintings and did not immediately notice how the velvet gum fell out ofВ her hair, rushed toВ the parquet.

Claire leaned up toВ raise it and only now noticed some kind ofВ lowest creature, which has long watched her. AВ dwarf or aВ child? Such dark, as if the bunch ofВ gloom. All the same Claire tried toВ smile toВ him, but the little spy slipped so quickly for the showcase, as if he was not here. Strange creature! Strange wet traces were on the floor! Claire only perplexed shook her head. Almost weightless earrings, which she usually wore inВ the ears, began toВ bring such aВ strong pain that Claire even thought toВ remove them.

The only problem was that she could not guess where the lady’s room was here. There were no pointers on the walls. Ask someone from silent curators, where the toilet is here, she was afraid. But she needed a mirror to remove earrings and a little water to wash the mischievous punctures in the ears. The mirror in the ordinance of one of the halls was found. It is located in a niche, similar to the throne, with steps erainy in the shape of a shell. The gilded frame was also made in the form of a convex shell. Claire wanted to touch it to check whether it was not the right gold, but it was scary that even with a light touch can work alarm. Crumbling sirens, jellyfish and sea skates woven in the fancy frame pattern, along with oysters, snails and Leviathan. Overweight! Claire looked into the mirror depth, and it seemed to her that she was immersed in the water. No, do not look, screamed the reason, but the Claire could no longer resist. It seemed to her that she was sinking in the mirror, and it was for some reason even nice.

Only suddenly the peaceful feeling was gone. InВ the depths ofВ the mirror for aВ moment was someone who she saw and before. Someone is so terrible that Clair has shudder and almost fell, exciting from the mirror. Monster, not aВ man. But he was dressed as human. Only the shadow ofВ black tri-fingers partially hid the ground face. Claire did not even immediately understand what exactly it seemed toВ her so repulsive. Only later she realized. Scars! Many deep, fusing cuts. His face was aВ solid ballus ofВ scars, on which no longer left ofВ the skin. One solid cut! Claire frowned from the rejection ofВ something like that.

When she left the museum, she was accompanied byВ an annoying coat ofВ police siren. What could happen at such an hour inВ the city center?

Claire sighed wearily. She was not now toВ the report ofВ the news about recent incidents. After the coolness ofВ the museum the heat immediately tired. She wanted toВ buy ice cream or cold juice. Ice Coca-Cola would quite suit her, but nearby there were no trays with drinks or automatic machines. Claire saw something strange inВ aВ dark corner right on the asphalt. Something red flowed out ofВ it right on the sidewalk.

Involuntarily, Clair became interested and approached it. It was aВ man. What happened toВ this man? Claire suddenly understand that the juice, rush toВ the passing part ofВ the road, is blood. But how serious is it? And why no one caused ambulance? No one was inВ aВ hurry toВ help at all, but somewhere still heard the wrinkles ofВ sirens.

The victim suddenly raised his head, and Clare recognized his face. The very dark type that pushed her at the fountain an hour ago. Now he was no longer so self-confident. The arrogant face distorted toement and fear. Claire also was afraid when she noticed that his hands were cut off. With the above, the elbows dissected exactly the right hand. The one he pushed Claire with such hate today.

Nightmares

Before bedtime, Claire did not turn off the table lamp. It was the first time since the childhood period, when she was frightened toВ sleep without light. But she could not do anything with it. The appearance ofВ the limbs sliced with sparkling knife pursued it. It was worth only toВ close the eyes, and she saw torn skin, crippled flesh, as if the hands ofВ the unfortunate missed through the meat grinder. She was not stuck at the sight ofВ this spectacle, but fear settled inВ the soul. After all, this can happen with each person. And it is better toВ die immediately than toВ know what it happened toВ you.

Claire did not figure out the details ofВ the accident. From her and so enough impressions. Now, the memories ofВ the bloody mix ofВ meat and bones do not climb into the head, she decided toВ think about something pleasant. For example, how romantic would be toВ take one ofВ the copper candelabers, which she bought inВ an antique shop, toВ light all the candles inВ it and put on the table near the bed. OfВ course, it is dangerous toВ sleep with candles. But the romantic fantasy about the candlelight was pleasant. She remembered that once she slept like that. Candles were exactly seven. Lucky number! And they all burned ghostly and brightly. The wind from the canal penetrated the window, waved flame and transparent curtains from Muslen. Everything was so beautiful! But when was it all? Claire frowned, rushing recall, and could not. There was still someone who concerned her when she slept and brought roses. He carried them inВ her hands without gloves, and his blood remained on the spikes.

Returning home today, Claire turned on the TV and began to look at the middle of a terrible film about the sacrificed victims and a computer game with embittered ghost. The film was called «Fear dot com» and was in the program as a mystical thriller with quite harmless annotations, but nothing more brutally Claire could not imagine. Initially, she was intrigued, but closer to the end the interest turned into a nightmare. Claire even regretted that she didn’t turn on the TV in time. It is strange to imagine how people are not afraid to invent such frightening plots. The sadism of the maniac and the revenge of the embittered ghost of a mutilated sacrifice was made the same terrible impression.

Sadistic shots from the film, like a black web spray in consciousness, refusing to disappear. Maybe they impressed her not enough? If you treat the impression caused by the history, from the point of view of a psychologist, we can conclude that it somehow intertwined with the past of Claire. Probably, in her life, there was also something that she feels an imaging victim. For example, this afternoon, it was impossible to interpret how to revenge – a hooligan who pushed her, suffered himself. Just avenged him not she. Someone else drew him with a knife. Or maybe it really was just an accident, and not an attack? Although it looks like the last.

Claire was sure that after the film and the events ofВ the past day, she would dream about mutual bodies ofВ victims, silent, as inВ hell inВ their ghost world, but the kingdom ofВ dreams met her something completely different. InВ aВ dream, the luxury doors ofВ the museum were revealed before her, and she climbed up the front marble staircase. How beautiful was this staircase with gilded railings! The steps ran high, as if inВ the most subsequent paradise. It was possible toВ expect toВ hear the singing ofВ birds inВ the paradise bunks, but the house around was gloomy, although luxurious. Claire has already been before inВ this house. She remembered. So now she returned toВ it. InВ aВ dream!

The staircase leading up, no way ended. It seems that it is, however, the staircase inВ heaven. Is it limited toВ the roof ofВ an old house or leads directly toВ the night stars? Claire did not see, but felt that the house was inВ Venice. The sounds ofВ fluid water came toВ her, similar toВ singing. This is the song ofВ the mermaids! Only mermaids are downstairs, inВ water. She rises toВ the very top ofВ the old building. ToВ the magnificent suite ofВ room, where she will look forВ him.

For whom? Claire frowned. She could not remember. And the pale nightgown with the golden threads, similar to the outfit of Shakespeare’s Juliet, was drowned around her legs. What an unusual outfit! In life, she did not wear anything like that. But it was a dream. Claire reached the suite of the empty rooms and moved forward. In the span of the ladder, which remained behind, stood the statue of the very deity, which she had already seen in the museum. Only this time the statue moved. The tentacles crawled out of a mask and a long raincoat. They stretched to Claire, but could not get her, because she had already reached the gallery of the mirror halls. For some reason, they do not dare to rush there.

In the dark end of the gallery, she was waiting for something. Freshness of water that came from the canal, mixed with breathing heat and fire. Claire felt the smell of hot metal and burned flesh, and… yes, she could not confuse this smell with anything. Blood!

There were ofВ luxury galleries around her, and at the end ofВ them, it was like aВ torture chamber. Incredible, but the heat intensified. Claire did not see the fireplace, but she felt its proximity. Or it was aВ brazier. She stopped, noticing someone ahead. Some strong creation inВ the mask bent over the corpse ofВ aВ woman. There was aВ knife inВ his hand, and he applied cuts.

Claire did not feel horror. In the end, it was just a dream. But the creature, tortured the victim, suddenly sniffed to the air and raised his head. Even in the slots masks it was visible that his face was maimed. Claire could not shout. She waited. And it was stupid. After all, he could rush to her with a knife. This creature always needs a new victim. A crippled arm kept the head of a dead woman’s head. The knife cut off not only the jewel with her neck, but also the skin from the body. The cuts bloomed as greedy mouths on a female corpse.

The creature, only noticing Claire, managed toВ break away from the victim. Only this time there was neither threatening whisper, no sharp movements ofВ the predator. It only uttered only one word:

В«Cordelia!В»

Claire woke up with this name on the lips. It came toВ her that the suite ofВ the gloomy halls was still revealed before her, but now inВ her own house, they reflected byВ many mirrors. Someone attracted her from this gallery with his mutilated hand.

Cordelia, repeated Claire. Whether the woman was so called, which he tied and killed. Claire remembered aВ beautiful corpse profile, aВ sparkled antique brush dress and aВ lily skin ofВ the deceased, covered with purple knife trails. His knife. The knife inВ the hand ofВ that creature for some reason seemed even more frightening than aВ whole set ofВ surgical items that use maniacs inВ horror films for torture ofВ victims.

Claire brought her hand toВ the forehead. Curly strands ofВ hair merged from sweat. Head burned. It seems that she became too nervous inВ order toВ watch horror films inВ the evenings. So it is better toВ leave this genre for more bold people.

Claire did not remember when she was last so afraid. And inВ her lonely house there is no one toВ console her. OfВ course, you can take aВ phone and dial someone from your relatives or the closest friends, but whether they will not be surprised that she calls them at such aВ time then so that they encouraged her byВ their voice.

Now was too late or too early? Claire squinting on aВ luminous clock clock. Soon four inВ the morning. She can sleep until dawn, but she was afraid toВ see another similar dream.

Dreams like parasites. They invade reality, capture consciousness, drive crazy. Claire heavily leaning back on the pillows and felt aВ cold necklace on her neck. Now it also seemed toВ her parasite. It is strange that it did not heat up at all from the heat ofВ her body. Pearls always remained cold. And it is even more strange that she did not decide toВ remove it. The necklace is as part ofВ her body. Almost an integral. Sometimes it even seemed that this is the main part, and the body itself does not matter underВ it.

Claire looked into the mirror on the wall. Pearl thread looked at a thin neck so beautiful that it would be a pity to part with it. Claire remembered a nostalgic comparison – the pearls are a treasure left from the deceased oyster, the testimony of its death.

Who told her aboutВ it?

Claire frowned. Someone spoke. But who? And when? The memory eluded, as if she was whining with drugs.

Who among her friends could have given such words? She figured out them without herself. Pearl! Death! Pearls – evidence of death!

Where did she hearВ it?

An attempt toВ remember was too painful. InВ memory, as if some kind ofВ door slammed. It was almost physically hurt from the fact that consciousness tries toВ overcome some irresistible barrier.

Claire thought that inВ vain she did not drink and did not smoke.

Now she terribly wanted toВ sleep, but the prospect ofВ seeing aВ new nightmare prevented her toВ close her eyes. The eyelids were poured, the head was split, but Claire decided toВ distract herself with something. She took an album and aВ pencil. It was better toВ make an outline ofВ coal, but the pencil was the first thing that was near ofВ her hand.

Claire wanted toВ draw something beautiful, but the pencil began toВ slide it himself. Fuzzy lines merged into one ugly tangle. Maybe it came out due toВ the fact that the fingers swept or from the fact that the eyelids were sticking out ofВ the desire toВ sleep. It was preparing that the pencil moves byВ itself. It was not her painted an disfigured face on aВ sheet ofВ paper, it felt like itself. The same face that she dreamed. Which she saw inВ the crowd before any accidents happened toВ people.

Claire dropped aВ pencil. The drawing lay on her knees, ugly and shocking. The side effect ofВ her creativity! She looked at it discouraged and almost horrified. Probably, Viktor Frankenstein looked so at his hands when he created aВ monster. Everything came out so unexpectedly. If it were another dream. AВ drawing for some reason frightened her very much.

AВ minute Claire was sitting motionless, feeling his knees, like aВ disgusting insect, and then crumpled it quickly and threw under the bed. Sometimes it is better not toВ remember something. So now she rushed toВ forget the drawn face, but it did not come out ofВ memory.

Demon inВ the mirror

Early in the morning Claire fell asleep. She dreamed wonderful dream. After waking up, she still could not believe that all this did not happen in reality. The feeling was as if she had just steam in the clouds. That’s what it means to fly!

Probably dreams this is the flight ofВ consciousness somewhere inВ the uncharted worlds. The feeling ofВ the miracle remains. But Clair was still sure that she would see something more terrible if she would fall asleep. It comes out, she was mistaken.

InВ aВ dream, there was someone who was inexpressible toВ her. Beautiful, sophisticated, blond and blue-eyed. She wanted toВ remember his face toВ draw, but the features escaped from memory, as if them were not at all. Does all perfectly be illusing?

Only the case was not at all perfection ofВ who she dreamed. Just next toВ him, she felt some striking spiritual warmth. InВ aВ dream it was so nice and joyfully, as if the friend whom she knew and loved once aВ long timeВ ago.

They danced. Rather, walled. Or did they still make love? Claire frowned. She could not remember exactly. But the impression remains divine. It is like toВ visit the angel or the Olympic Deity at night.

In the beginning, in a dream, she danced with him exactly, looked in his face. He tried to cover his eyes a little bit, because they shone like a flame candle. And Claire looked at his eyelashes, his cheekbones, neck, a lace around the throat, the golden sewing of coat… how beautiful he dressed. She wonder if there is a cuff with his sleeves. As soon as she wanted to see how he asked:

В«Do not look down!В»

And yet she looked toВ see his burned hands. Digid and poorly existing, because the fingers seemed toВ be trying toВ snatch with hot tongs.

Crumpled hands under exquisite sleeves. An unpleasant and even shocking combination. Claire thoughtfully tapping her fingers on the wrist watch bracelet. The time as if returned toВ reversal somewhere. Claire noted that the tiny hands on the dial froze. Probably the battery ran out. Claire removed aВ bracelet from the hand. She did not want toВ wear aВ stopped clock on his wrist, as if it was bad sign.

She has little time. It’s time to work. It’s time to draw. And there are no absurd sketches or face from sleep, but those illustrations that she ordered.

But instead of focusing, she still remembered the sleep. Dance. Embrace. What sweetness was a feeling of intimacy. But burned hands…

Claire got up and looked out ofВ the window toВ the street. Along the highway, cars were used at the bottom. Already evening. Bright headlights resembled asterisks. With the memories ofВ those accidents that occurred at her eyes recently, Claire was unwittingly wondered how the highway could be empty. Cars swept past and have not shot down anyone. No corpses with cut-out turtles are not lying on the asphalt. Perhaps everything ended. And she will never again see confused victims, random incidents and aВ disfigured person who flashed inВ the crowd toВ them. If only she did not inventВ it.

Today she just got up too late. Although, maybe her beautiful sleep and cost the good half ofВ the day toВ fall into bed. Pleasant thoughts stirred with terrible, as if pink and black paints merged inВ her mind. Beauty and something ugly inВ bizarre mesaliance. Clare grinned, presenting how her work could go if she uses inВ it toВ fully all the novelty ofВ her fantasies.

The mirror inВ the bathroom was inexpensive: without frame and jewelry. But Claire loved toВ look into it. Even with aВ scarce lighting ofВ one light bulb without lampshar under the ceiling, it was surprisingly clearly reflected. Great glass, though not Venetian.

In the abstract furnishings of the bathroom, the beauty of Claire was especially brightly distinguished. The accurate cheekbones, ash eyebrows, delightful emerald eyes – it was difficult to imagine something more divine. But the Claire got used to her appearance and did not find anything unique in it. Up to that moment. Now she began to watch it, as if the eyes of someone else and the fact that she saw, she had a reverent delight. Hypnotizing beauty The face of an angel with gold curls looked at her from the mirror. It was not impossible to comprehend such beauty nor to see it. And at the same time it was scary to watch. And suddenly all this will disappear. Suddenly beauty is just an illusion?

«You can’t even imagine what treasure you have,» someone’s hoarse whisper from silence suddenly whispered. It burned her. Burned and ears, and consciousness. Although Claire already knew that it did not make sense to turn around the shoulder. There is just no one. But in front of her, the mirror reflected the darkness as if someone was attached in it. Someone mutilated and dangerous. The creature from dreams. It scared her very much and at the same time something strangely excited. Claire imagined how it is to have a beauty, and then lose it.

Together with the question came aВ desire toВ find out about it. However, Claire did not even look at the razors folded inВ aВ bucket along with toothbrushes. OfВ course, the blades ofВ the razors were sharp, but they did not excite her. It is completely different that the knife always lying inВ her pocket. Claire got it and pressed the button, releasing the blade. Almost the same knife like his. She did not know the name ofВ that creature, so only one name whispered out loud:

В«Mutilated!В»

What toВ be so? She raised the blade toВ face. What if she brings with it on the cheek? What then will remain from her beauty? Will she be then likeВ him?

The darkness inВ the mirror as if she was inВ aВ certain bizarre labyrinth. Probably, it was aВ game ofВ aВ darkness mixed with poor lighting inВ the bathroom, but Claire seemed that the images inВ the mirror were moving along the same luxurious gallery inВ which she was inВ the dream. Only its reflection remained inВ place, golden on the background ofВ the darkness. It attracted demons like light. Such aВ bright light that it exuded, walked the inhabitants ofВ the kingdom ofВ darkness toВ life, made them excited and aggressive. And someone waited for her there at the end ofВ the tunnel. Someone who she wanted toВ see and was afraidВ of.

The blade inВ her hand shook. She could not put herself aВ wound. Could not mutilate herselff. It was attractively and scary. But she lacked courage. But inВ some one mad moment it seemed toВ her that she would not only be able toВ do it. But aВ strange hoarse voice interrupted her thoughts.

В«Cordelia!В»

Again the name from the sleep. Claire carefully looked into the depths ofВ the mirror, and the knife fell from her hands. For aВ moment it seemed toВ her that she sees aВ terrible wound face next toВ her own reflection. How strongly the cuts on it emphasized the contrast with her own skin.

«It is necessary to value what you have,» as if it reported without words. «And then look at me! I didn’t value myself at all. Because of such as you, by the way…»

Claire shuddered. Is it really her dream again. Only now it was aВ dream inВ reality. She never smoked inВ life, did not drink alcohol and did not take drugs, so where then such hallucinations.