Natalie Yacobson "Mutilated. Crypt of the Seven Angels"

Claire immediately imagined the blade that hacked her face. She did not want to imagine anything like that, but the black fantasy did not leave the brain anywhere. These are someone’s mutual hands squeeze the knife and bring the tip to her cheek. Here is cold steel touches the skin, and the wound is revealed on it, similar to a crimson flower or a parasite, sever on face, like a large leech or jellyfish. Terrible marine parasites are also similar in brightness. Just the wounds. They, too, like scarlet parasites on your body. They are absorbed into the skin to flourish pain and blood. Clare saw in front of the closed eyelids, as a hand with a blade again and again puts cuts to her face, bending a neck, shoulders. And blood is thick dripping on a white wedding dress, which Claire never put in her life. She didn’t even see such a dress anywhere. It was too old-fashioned dress to see something similar in a showcase of a modern store.

Claire gathered with the forces and raised the phone tube only toВ tell Brad aВ couple ofВ anything significant phrases. She hoped that he would not take them for the invitation toВ tea. Brad had aВ rare talent toВ take the most simple comments on sports or weather, as aВ direct invitation for aВ date. This trait inВ him is very often annoyed.

Claire now did not want toВ see anyone. Good at least that she did not occur toВ cut her right hand. What kind ofВ artist without the existing right hand. She loved her work. Whatever sinister accents began toВ acquire her work now, but they still continued toВ remain admiration for an on-line with fear.

She also did not want toВ call aВ doctor. OfВ course, she could put something about an accident, but she did not like toВ lie. InВ addition, she was tormented byВ some superstitious fear. It seemed that no one had the right toВ touch the cut, besides her. And Claire decided toВ heal the wound herself. OfВ course, it is inconvenient toВ make it with one hand. But she used toВ deal with everything alone.

She could have cope with everything herself. Now, if inВ the mirror just did not settle someone, ready toВ prevent her all. He was as if her dark half. Like aВ grinning criminal Hyde inВ an ideal biography ofВ Dr. Jekyll.

Blood has already ceased toВ flow, but the pain still did not pass. What power only jerked her hand toВ take aВ knife? Claire never could understand this. But she became scary. What if it happens again? What if she wants toВ cut again? Or someone just inspires her that she wantsВ it?

On the moment, she even wanted toВ call someone from girlfriends and ask her toВ spend aВ night with her. But then she looked at the elegant Venetian masks on the walls. Porcelain, gypsum, ceramic, with feathers and elegantly suspended eyes, with lips, smiling sweet and poisonous at the same time. They as if they said:

В«Not worthВ it!В»

And Claire involuntarily looked at them. Typically female features and bizarre outlines ofВ owls, peacocks, hummingbirds or fish were transferred toВ this house atmosphere ofВ Venetian carnival. Claire did not want toВ share this mysterious atmosphere with anyone. She was surrounded byВ masks from all sides, and she involuntarily fell under their influence.

What is aВ pair ofВ blood drops inВ comparison with the calmness ofВ the soul and blissful loneliness? Claire unconsciously wiped her hand over the first turned out toВ be plaid and did not even try toВ prejudify the wound. All small care suddenly left somewhere as if they were not atВ all.

Under the windows some noises were distributed, but it was no longer the usual sounds ofВ the radio. Probably, the neighbors had some kind ofВ fight or any other troubles. Or maybe the roof collapsed or some kind ofВ structure, as it came out near the cinema, where they recently were together with Brad. Claire did not even look out ofВ the window toВ check. InВ addition, now is the evening. Around is dark. There is nothing particularly inВ the dark.

Claire took from the table a newspaper, which threw there in the morning and began to view headlines. The glance slid on them clean automatically. No news in fact was not worried about her. She just wanted to distract something. But noise under the windows did not stop. Perhaps still it was worth putting slippers and go out on the porch to look, what’s the matter. Below, after all there is a lantern. Claire wondered.

Someone knocked on her door. Surprisingly, as after external noise, she was able toВ distinguish aВ knock on her own door from any other loud sounds. What is so desperate. Behind the man on the other side ofВ the door, as if chased.

After aВ moment, the random Claire decided toВ open the entrance door, without removing the chains. She did not recognize the man who stood behind the threshold. It was doused inВ paint. Thick red paint.

В«HelpВ me!В»

Claire was aВ little surprised and alerted. She recognized this man on blond hair and clothes. But it can not really be that neighbor guy she noticed here. And if he really is, the fact that then this happened toВ him. He won the whole entirely inВ the burning stove or some other way managed toВ construct almost all the skin.

В«Let me in!В» The bloody hand climbed the door.

В«No,В» Claire said hurriedly. В«IВ better call help, and you wait here.В»

В«Just give me toВ enter,В» the bloody creation is stubbornly climbed into the house. Only Claire was afraid toВ let it, too, it was terrifying. She involuntarily remembered how inВ films bloody and embittered sacrifices themselves become vengeful killers. The creature behind the door looked frightened, as if it was afraid ofВ persecution. Claire was also afraid. She was afraid ofВ what could be laid inВ the night for his back.

«Don’t you understand what he goes after me,» said the stranger. «What he did with me, he will then do with you.»

The last phrase he whispered almost confidentially, as if between them could have something inВ common, which could not be disclosed. And then he suddenly pulled away from the door. But Claire still felt the smell ofВ blood. It hit right inВ the nostrils, spicy and unpleasant. It can be seen, today she suffered not alone.

Claire thought that it would be nice toВ call the police or at least inform them that under her windows is aВ strongly affected person and strange frightening sounds are heard. And what if all this is just another hallucination? The deceitful fingers remained lying on the panels ofВ the door. Claire did not immediately find the strength toВ close and lockВ it.

She looked at her wound. It is strange, that the man glared at her wound, as if it was aВ kind ofВ magical sign, with whom he had already encountered inВ practice. And this sign immediately awakened inВ him indescribable trust, as if he could have something inВ common with Claire. She has goosebumps from such associations. Probably, it is only seemed toВ her. And the man behind the door was just aВ drunkard.

It is better toВ think so. After all, if the affected guy was really injured, then all her fears are invariably come true. And with those whom some force draws her close attention, something terrible is really happening. Sooner or later.

Claire was afraid. And Venetian masks looked at her calmly and mysteriously, as if they kept some kind ofВ secret. About this night, about her cut, about aВ certain ancient destination. And this mystery also allowed them toВ have something inВ common with Claire. Something that no one should know about.

Countdown ofВ deaths

Claire dreamed ofВ the sea. Water smooth sparkled inВ the light ofВ the moon. Or then there were deep canals filled with water. Claire almost heard the voices ofВ mermaids, growing inВ the depths ofВ the channels inВ search ofВ food. These greedy, slippery and half dead creatures were attracted ofВ fragrances ofВ meat. Human meat. When inВ the canal was aВ drowned person, they stopped singing and rushed toВ search for food. But inВ the canals rarely was aВ drowned person. Therefore, mermaids were forever hungry. Now there were aВ lot ofВ drowned. Claire was surprised. She saw the deadly pale faces ofВ mermaids and their sharp, like needles, teeth. Their singing stood inВ her ears, guy and hypnotizing.

Claire woke up inВ cold sweat with the same question as inВ aВ dream. Why were inВ the dark waters so many drowned persons. As if the whole army was lowered toВ the bottom. The same hoarse vaguely familiar voice answered:

В«They were all your enemies.В»

Your enemies! Our enemies! How exactly did he want toВ say? And did he see between this aВ difference?

Spirit ofВ the mirror! Was it his voice? Claire frowned. Apparently, she is already accustomed toВ him as toВ the friend. But he himself was also an enemy. Or at least behaved like an enemy. Only enemies can drive you behind the nose and intimidate. The inhabitant ofВ the mirror was conducted with her some strange game. He disappeared, it appeared, and, nevertheless, unfortunately took her consciousness.

The devil hides inВ the mirror. What nonsense? The devil would not swing inВ front ofВ her with aВ knife, like some Sweeney Todd. He would immediately destroy her. Or did he already do it? Only not immediately, but gradually.

Claire’s heart painfully sank. Previously, it would be scared from such suspicion, it would be frightened as a bird in a cage, now it just froze, as if it was slaughtered with a knife. Claire excitedly looked around. Is there one of the mirrors or in reflective objects of any sinister reflections?

Dreams about bloodthirsty mermaids drove it crazy. She even stopped cooking fish for lunch, which she loved very much.

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