Ring of Madness

by Royden Labrosse

  Leaf one.

  Me and Mecislav. I - in sweater and jeans for some reason look impregnable, like a nun in a belt of virginity. A vampire stands on his knees in front of me, all so begging and charming (even in the picture charming as the last bastard), and I show him an expressive figure.

  Leaf two.

  This time I'm wearing something like a gymnast and a helmet, swinging wide, throwing a bundle... Bastard!!! Bundling condoms with water in a tank with vampire fangs on its side!

  Well, wait a minute, I've got you, you selfish humorist...

  Leaf three.

  It's a living picture. I, as it was yesterday, with one hand in the side, the second one shows Dyushka on all fours, and he slowly turns into a goat. The horns on his head, the hooves instead of his legs and the upcoming goatee were very expressive.

  Leaf four.

  I, in some robeskin-like hoodie, lift a cross high in my hand. The cross is shining, there's a staircase leading to the sky, and people are standing on it. Four people I know very well. Vlad and his family. Are they standing? No, I'd say they're going upstairs. Danielle has caught that moment of movement when a man steps from one step to the next. The door in the sky is open, and the light from the cross strangely turns into steps in front of people. It's beautiful. And how did he just see that? Although the artist's gift is akin to clairvoyance.

  Leaf five. The last one.

  I've already guessed that Danielle purposely decomposed them in that sequence. I did. Standing in a musketeer cloak, in a relaxed position - the tip of the sword rests on the ground, his hand is on the hilt, the second is turned behind his back, his head is thrown back. And next to him on one knee - Danielle - with a flaming heart in his hand. The hand is stretched out to me. The face of the vampire is painted very clearly. And on it is a mixture of hope, fear, dreams, expectations...

  I smiled like a cat hugging cream.

  Well, if it's not a hand and heart proposal... where's my pencil?

  And decisively wrote only one word on the back of the sheet.

  "YES!!!!! »

  And then she wrapped herself in a long robe and went downstairs. I couldn't find any clothes, so they're not gonna happen without the High Ceremonies. And then, what are we, not in Russia? Especially since the robe was really good for me. Dark blue, fluffy and warm, trimmed with light blue satin on sleeves, collar and hem. What a lovely robe! Downstairs, I found Snegirev. A very disgruntled Sharpei was drinking coffee from a small cup that looked funny in his paw. Next to it was a dish of pies. An apple jam would be nice. Mm-hm-hm - delicious! Oh, I love it! My face blurred in a big smile.

  - Good morning, Alexei Ivanovich.

  - Good afternoon, Jane. If he's kind.

  - Wouldn't it be different? All of us are alive! And even I'm alive, which is a miracle in itself! Beautiful day and life is beautiful!

  The snowgire looked at me like a three-headed fang calf. Either stroke me or rip my head off. Is that all? Wouldn't it scratch?

  - Jane, I'd like some clarification.

  Schazzzzzzzzzzzzz... I'm still hungry and I'm gonna give explanations? I had a hard night, a hard day, and I don't talk about last night at all. You should give vodka, not milk, for that. It's for increased harm.

  - Me, too. And to begin with the most important question, I agreed. - What have we got for lunch?

  - Go to the kitchen, they must have something there. Actually, lunch has already passed.

  - It happens.

  I crawled out of my chair and went looking for some daily bread. My stomach rumbled like a Belarus tractor, and I understood it well. But I was determined to limit myself in food. I was going to lose a little weight long ago, and in such a company and with such rhythm of life in three days I'll get the dimensions of a model. Aunt Tanya was awfully happy with me.

  - Honey! Where are you from? And for how long?

  Aunt Tanya is an absolutely wonderful person. Submarine in the steppes of Ukraine. That's exactly what Ukraine. She got married there when Ukraine and Russia were a united Union and nobody could dream about Gorbachev, Yeltsin and perestroika. She gave birth to two children and put them on their feet. But when it all started... You know how the Russians and Russia were treated in Ukraine. It became very hard to find a job. Terrible discrimination on the basis of nationality began.

  In 1994, her husband died, unable to endure the whole mess that was happening in the world. The man's heart wasn't old at all, it was a 40-five-year-old man who just refused. "I didn't want to live," said the doctor. And Aunt Tanya decided to return to her homeland. True, her children did not go with her. And Tatyana Ivanovna in 1995 came to the capital of the Russian Federation. Already in the Russian Federation, not in the Soviet Union. She looked around, grabbed hold of her head - and methodically began to look for old friends. Still in school.

  One of these buddies ended up in our town. An old, still a school buddy. He offered to come, promised to help with housing and work for the first time. Tatyana Ivanovna didn't think about it for long. But there was a new problem. With the diplomas of the Kiev Institute in Russia one could only paste the walls under wallpaper. Nobody needed engineers. Production was falling apart, factories went bankrupt, millions of people found themselves on the street.

  Tatiana Ivanovna would have been there too, if it hadn't been for a happy accident.

  One day, after unsuccessfully trying to get a job, she decided to go to a cafe and treat herself to a cake. The nut meringue that she loved since childhood. There was not much money, but it was not worth denying yourself the joys of life. It didn't take long to get sick.

  The cafe was luxurious. But the meringue turned out to be...

  As Tatyana Ivanovna herself put it, "for such a cake in Japan they make harakiri. And not always voluntarily."

  Apparently, everything has accumulated and the volcano of indignation has erupted. Perturbation, failure at work, frustration that instead of sweets in the mouth was something like a hybrid of a soaked rag with sugar cardboard. Tatyana Ivanovna cracked a plate on the floor, demanded an administrator and a complaint book, and loudly claimed that she even fed the pigs tastier than in this restaurant. And the money to fight for such food? Yes, the owners of the restaurant should pay extra for those who came to them in general and risked their health!

  While she was so broke, the owner of the restaurant also showed up. And offered to his cheeky aunt to confirm his words with action. Either cook something tastier than that meringue, or go to the police and pay a fine for hooliganism.

  Tatyana Ivanovna was not confused by such little things. She calmly went to the kitchen and chanted for two hours there, making a cake without a recipe. A piece of cake was cut off and solemnly presented to the owner of the restaurant along with meringue, which caused her indignation.

  Is it worth telling what happened next? Having licked the plate, the owner offered Tatiana Ivanovna a place to cook at the restaurant. With a good salary and the right to chase other cooks in the tail and the mane. Only to prevent such disgrace from happening again. And the woman agreed. And then, when it became difficult to spin in the restaurant kitchen (age, you know), Snegirev poached her to his cook. On full board and with a very good salary. And he didn't miss it. The former engineer cooked in such a way that at her lunches and dinners even her grandfather, who strictly observed moderation in food, swept away for both cheeks.

  Now Tetyana has already got her own home, opened a bank account and regularly sent money to children in Ukraine. The situation there has not changed much for the better over the years. It is interesting, to burst out of Russia's hand - they are both mouth and ass, at any time of day and night and in any quantity. But how is it normal to treat those who keep them - they are figures. Funny logic, eh?

  - Jane, are you going through empiricism again? How long will you be with us?

  Tatiana loved me for my good character, decent family, constant politeness and love for her culinary masterpieces. When my mother and I were staying at Sneg
irev's, we came to the kitchen to thank her - and my mother instantly found a common language with her. Now they were exchanging recipes and gossiping about children.

  - As it happens," I gave it to you. - Why, didn't Big Boss tell you I was here?

  Big Boss - that's what we quietly nicknamed Snegirev. For the habit of disposing of everything and everyone.

  - Silent as a partisan," said Aunt Tanya. - What do you want to eat?

  - Why don't you make me some oatmeal? And some fruit or something? - I figured it out. - Is that possible?

  - Yes, it is. I'm gonna make you a porridge with fruit! It tastes so much better than these muesels!

  - Everything you cook is delicious," I said quite frankly. And I got a big apple as a reward. Just the kind I liked: big, green, solid, and sour. To make your jaws come down when you try to bite!

  Aunt Tanya just shook her head.

  - And how do you eat them?! They're oak, aren't they?

  - But it's delicious, I got my teeth in an apple. And how does Tatiana manage to keep them like this all winter? - And in the house now only Big Boss?

  - More security. And you, of course.

  - Oh, I see.

  Aunt Tanya's eyes are suddenly a little different. Interested.

  - Jane, do you have anything with him?

  I didn't even know right away what she meant by that.

  - What, Aunt Tanya?

  - Well, the one that's this... - Aunt Tanya confusedly turned her hands in the air, hinting at something. But I figured it out. That's cruel!

  - Aunt Tanya, really?! It's more like the ice at the South Pole melts and the penguins turn into ostriches! Well, that's not a guarantee either!

  The cook's eyes are calm again.

  - It's for the best, Jane. It's for the best, too.

  - Why, Big Boss is such a bad batch? - I don't get it.

  - It's not that bad. It's just that you're too different. You're an intelligent girl, smart, readable. And he is a businessman! - The last word was a swear word in the cook's mouth. - Businessman! A whore's full of house, a brother's gonna eat, or something! Don't you mess with him, Jane! It won't do you any good!

  - I wasn't going to, I shrugged my shoulders. - I like the other one, actually.

  - Who? - There was an expression of curiosity on Aunt Tanya's face. Well, I wanted to gossip about it myself. - You don't know him. He's an artist. A real genius!

  - This one, the curtain man? - didn't get it, Aunt Tanya.

  - No way! He's not an avant-garde! I'll show you what he drew me!

  I jumped up and jumped upstairs to get my bag. I really wanted to show somebody my portrait. And at the same time, the porridge is being negotiated.

  Aunt Tanya liked the portrait. She took a good look at it and nodded.

  - We've got to get some! He obviously understands you.

  And for some reason, I was in complete agreement with her. Why? Well, I liked Danielle, I liked her! There's only one problem! Did he like me? And if he liked me, what happens next?! I just have a conscience that won't let my hand, heart and other pounds of live weight get to him. What about him? If he doesn't like me? The portrait doesn't say anything yet! Neither do these five paintings. I've had my doubts. He's an artist, he can draw all women within a mile! So what now? Sleep with each one? You die of exhaustion!

  So I haven't decided how Danielle feels about me? It would have been best to ask straight, but I was terribly shy. Why was that? I don't know. All I know is that it was a lot easier to goat in Duška's face.

  ***

  After about an hour I sat down again in the living room opposite Snegirev. I was already fed and dressed in simple blue jeans and a white T-shirt. We sat in the chairs opposite each other, and each of us scrutinized the opponent. I caught myself thinking that for the first time I was trying to understand - what does Snegirev think? What does he want? And what can he hear from me so that it would be useful for all of us? And what is the best way to tell me about what happened? I started the game first.

  - You wanted to talk to me, Alexei Ivanovich?

  We didn't need to be measured by looks or forces like Dyushka and Mecislav last night. I knew that I would stay in winning if I seemed weaker and dumber than I really was, which means that I could speak first. In order to suppress people with its authority, there is a Mečislav. And my job is to be white and fluffy. It's both safer and safer.

  - Yes, - agreed Snegirev. - Jane, I've known you a long time, but I never thought you were connected with vampires.

  - I didn't even think they existed," I gave him back the compliment.

  - And yet you came with them? Or was it an accident?

  - Didn't Mechislav tell you?

  The question was asked only for proforma. As far as I knew Mieczysław, he wouldn't have said anything even under torture. Arrogance had grown into his skin. And to be frank with his servants is a lot of honor. The snowball wasn't his own for vampires, no matter how you spin it. He was just a man who served for money. And they only trusted him within that framework.

  - No.

  The anger that ran in Sharpei's eyes for a moment told me a lot. He probably didn't even dare to ask. And I wasn't going to tell him the whole truth. Tell him what? If my grandfather doesn't trust him, vampires don't, I'm not going to.

  - I did it purely by accident. One of the vampires that Danielle got very badly. I picked him up, almost dead. And I couldn't just leave him. I had to share the blood with him. I'm not and won't be a vampire, but Danielle and Mecislav are friends. Miecislav was grateful to me for saving his friend. So I feel quite free in their company. And the fact that I'm still with them is easy, too. I am a valuable witness to vampires, I can share blood if necessary, and then, I'm just grateful and do not want my death.

  - Just like that?

  I laughed.

  - Well, in practice, it was a lot more complicated than that. And now I'm telling you - and I really spit it out! And how did you get in touch with Mieczysław? Did Grandpa know about it?

  - No way! It was different for me! And it started a long time ago. Twenty years ago. I went on a business trip then. It's a young case, the fifth or tenth - that's where I met with Mieczysław. He gave me small tasks at first, and when the brothel with perestroika started, he told me everything as it was - like he was a vampire - and offered me the role of a screen.

  - Shirms?

  - For everyone, I am the director of Snowbird. But actually, I'm more of a keeper. The manager. For my diligence, I get thirty percent of the shares and thirty percent of the profits. That's very good. Everything else goes to vampires. By the way, the first time when I first started, it was Mečislav who gave me money, taught me how to do things better, and advised reliable partners. The condition was one thing - unconditional submission and complete secrecy. Which I did.

  - And I'm sure you will. Mecislav is not the kind of man who lets go of his prey.

  - That's right.

  - Thirty percent, that's it? - I asked all of a sudden, even for myself.

  - And that's all, - answered Snegirev.

  But his voice trembled for a moment. And I knew it wasn't! It wasn't just the thirty percent he wanted. He was tied up by other things. He wanted to be a vampire. He wanted to live forever. I don't know if Mechislav promised him or not, probably not, but Snegirev was hoping. He was hoping before the heartburn. Knowing Mieczysław, I did not think that he should count on such mercy, but did Sniegirew himself understand that? I tried to make his face calm and inexpressive. It turned out quite well.

  - We have a long time to wait for darkness, and I've already slept. Can we turn on the telly?

  - As you wish, Jane.

  I wanted to. The first channel was "Wedding in Malinovka". But they wouldn't let me watch it. Around the middle of the movie, all the fun was ruined. Snegirev's phone rang. Uninvited guests came to us. And the guard rushed to report to us.

  - Chief, they want to see you there.

  - Who?

&nb
sp; - They say they're with the IPF.

  Where have I heard that name before? Brains didn't work very well. If you really relax, you're not gonna get it together. Especially when you're still looking at the charming Yashka, who was just building a battalion of women.

  - – …

  The scolding with which Snegirev broke out did not tell me anything. So I cracked my fist on the table to draw attention to myself.

  - Who's the IPF? The IRS?

  - The hell it is! Paranormal Form fighters, that's what they are! And they own the magic! They hunt vampires, werewolves, leishmen, kikimores, sorcerers, witches...

  - Oh, I see. What do they want here... Ow!

  What a dope! This is the Inquisition! You're in trouble, Japeka! What should I do?! Mom! The snowman was also in complete disgust. He obviously did not want to talk to them. But to kill and bury them... it's not the nineties anymore. This room simply will not pass among the populated cottage village. There's no way to send it. It's like signing off on your vampire involvement or something. And who's coming here in a couple of hours? A rifle squad on a tank?

  - That's exactly what - oh! Hardly anyone knows about them. But they don't know shit about them. They also have some magical powers. They say that they instantly distinguish lies from truth, that they can hypnotize anyone that they...

  Yes, they can. But if the vampires can't handle me, maybe these guys will break down. A guess sparked a lightning bolt, and I pulled Snowgirev's hand, drawing attention to myself.

  - Do they know for sure or just suspect?

  Now Snegirev is thinking seriously.

  - They can't smell a vampire, but they can be told.

  - Um... Then you have to talk to them.

  - WHAT?!

  The snowgire was in shock, but I was knee-deep in the sea. And he had no choice. I do not argue, the businessman has more experience in negotiations, but I am stronger than anyone else resist any magical influence.

  - That's it. I can lie to anyone - and not lie at the same time. It's purely female art. You'll believe it?

  The snowbird somehow slowed down nodding. Though he didn't have a choice anyway. He was even under vampire influence - I mean very lightly - melted like cheese in a frying pan. And if anybody's more serious... It's gonna flow. But me and Duke's knee and the IPF's knee... Knee too. And not above.