Ring of Madness

by Royden Labrosse

  The vampire's hands have fallen on my shoulders - unusually heavy and hot. They slowed down a little and closed themselves in steel shackles - don't shout, and there won't be a road to freedom anymore. A wave of burning and floating bones ran across my body. I was dizzy. And stars floated before my eyes. The smell of apples and honey, the smell of Mieczysław, went crazy and circled his head...

  - Let go!!! - I didn't scream with my voice.

  I rushed down the hallway. Anywhere to get away from a vampire.

  And I flew out the back entrance - into the street, right into Valentine's hands.

  - Julia? - The werewolf was clearly surprised, but silent.

  - Let's go home," I exhaled. - You're welcome.

  Valentine silently shoved me in the back seat of the car.

  I haven't seen the sword. Did he decide not to follow me and embarrass me? All the better.

  For him? For me?

  I was afraid of that kind of Medislav.

  And it was only in the car that I remembered that I didn't tell him about the black fog or the IPF...

  I'll tell you more. I'll tell you later.

  * * *

  Mechislav angrily punched the wall with his fist.

  The wall withstood, but the plaster just crumbled a little bit. The fist was a little harder. If you were a vampire three times, but if you hit a rock with your bare hand, at least you'd skin it.

  Although... Medislav was not threatened with blood poisoning, so the vampire just licked the blood from his knuckles, trying not to hit the wounds, and nodded satisfactorily. He'll heal himself. He's already healing.

  Damn it, they pulled his tongue!

  Scared the girl. Now she won't go near him for a week. One hope is her sense of duty. Tomorrow Alfonso da Silva arrives, and Julia has to be near the Prince of the City. And she will. With all her shortcomings, she's a great business partner. And in difficult moments, you can rely on her as on yourself. Even more.

  No, but why did his self-control suddenly crack!?

  Mecislav thoughtfully put a strand of long black hair on his finger. Why?

  The first answer was on the surface. He's just nervous about what's coming tomorrow. Vampires' nerves aren't iron either, they're just better sustained. So he snapped.

  The second answer was deeper. And the vampire didn't like it at all.

  He remembered perfectly well what he saw his... his last name next to Peter. Eyes burning, heads shifted, faces looking like the kids who got a candy store...

  It's too cloudless. The last time he saw such a passionate expression was before Daniel died.

  And if you remember that Peter Yul also saved, you get a sad picture.

  He himself gave Peter permission to stay in town. He allowed them to practice magic himself. There's no one to blame. But there's no explanation for anger.

  On the other hand, what difference does it make who his surname sleeps with if she's only connected to him, by force she shares...

  only

  with him, and in fact, all he has to do is order - and at any moment she will have to obey. In theory. In practice - if Julia loves someone, there's no telling what she'll do. He can't risk his power like that. If in fifty years, when he's established on this earth...

  In a word, you have to take action. Let them do magic only in the presence of third parties. Peter needs to be followed, too. And somebody to slip him. So he doesn't have to look at Julia with hungry eyes. It's safer that way. And Julia... she's just a woman. And in seven hundred years, no woman who's ever looked up to a vampire has said no. And his unpredictable surname is no exception. You just have to increase the pressure a little bit. Alfonso will be gone...

  The fact that Julia and Peter found their research partners in the first place did not even occur to the vampire.

  Mechislav was angry, angry, looking through his options... and carefully drove a simple thought out of his mind.

  Why did he get mad after all? What is this? Just an angry ego?

  Or... jealousy?

  Chapter 5.

  Institute weekdays are wonderful.

  September 2

  I was almost late for college. And it didn't make me feel good or kind. Especially since Livnevsky was the first couple to go again. During the break, Tikhvinskaya tried to ask me questions, but I looked at her so that Natasha understood - it is better to go into the shadows. And that's right. Vampires, werewolves, Alfonso da Silva, who arrives today, the IPF - all this was undermining my self-control. And I was a lot like a boiling kettle.

  But it's also been good. When I left the hallway during the second couple for five minutes on a very important and urgent matter, I saw a HMO teacher I had been unsuccessfully catching all through June.

  - Yuri Mikhailovich! - I rejoiced. - How glad I am to see you!

  Oops. Well, you shouldn't have been thrilled. The little eyes of Tokarevich sparkled with interest.

  - Yeah? Who are you?

  - Me? Julia Leoverenskaya, biofac, third year. I've got a tail from that semester, I can't tell you anything...

  - Tail, you say?

  The reverend looked down at the place where the monkey's tail and I have a skirt.

  - Yes... Okay, Julia. Come tonight, at 7 pm. I'll take your... retake. - And with this butter and sugar tone. - I'll be waiting for you in room three hundred and five. It's on the third floor. Come on in.

  And he went down the hall. And I, forgetting all my business, went back to my office. I sat down and thought.

  People, explain to me popularly - why would a biologist want a HMO?

  Who knows? Well, I don't. What is this, anyway? Occupational safety? The basics of the same thing? I still don't know what to call it properly. And what are we doing on it?

  Okay. Back and forth, I'll listen to the basics of first aid. I'm gonna watch burn, epidemic and leprosy movies. You can't say anything about Suma or prison.

  But listen to phrases like: "In case of a nuclear explosion, you have to pull the helmet deeper on your head and fall your feet towards the alleged explosion" or "In case of a nuclear attack, you have to act according to a pre-approved plan, namely, to load all the material assets into cars and move a flat column to the nearest shelter" ...

  Too bad!

  Why can't I sleep with my eyes open!?

  Is that how you imagine it?

  A nuclear explosion. Yeah. And I'm a helmet up to my ears and my feet to the explosion. That's how they'll dig me up. Someday. When the half-life is over. What the hell does it matter where and how you fall in a nuclear explosion? You're gonna die anyway. It's okay if he covers it right away. If it doesn't, you'll rot in a couple of months from radiation. You'll also suffer.

  Option two. There's a nuclear war coming, that is, nuclear war. Third, it's also the last world war. Of course, God forbid, but what if?

  And there's a nuclear attack. And here we, cheerfully, load everything of value - three hundred cans of formalin and samples, Boru skeleton, half a ton of posters and visual aids into cars. Mm-hmm, who would have provided us with them? I bet - in case of an attack, everyone will scratch for himself? At maximum speed. And the first ones in the Great Run will be our officials. They're like cockroaches, they can smell slippers at the top.

  But let them. Do you know where the nearest hideout is in the area?

  Yeah! I know, I know. It's three blocks away. My grandfather used to show me. Really, it's the Baby Blue Internet Club now. I don't know what the owner wanted to say when he called his place that. But I don't go there just in case.

  But - you have to, you have to. Let's go to the Internet club. We'll connect with the outside world there. If he doesn't cover it right away. Food, water? No question about it! Didn't I mention the sample banks? If anyone doesn't know, the samples are usually meat. For example, we only have 50 cans of alcoholic crayfish. We also have shells, worms, birds, various organs... all of them. But if you want to live, you'll stash anything. Smoked nematode, though.

  Boom! We'll
fry the samples on the fire poster. And drink alcohol from open cans. Fun, not war. We'll just have to try it on someone who's not sorry. Otherwise we're gonna have a fucking time. We had a case at the faculty - hungry students broke into the lab, stole ten cans, opened them up and did what I said. Samples - stressful, alcohol - drunk. A squeal... As a result, the students got a scholarship increase, the labs got bars, and formalin was added to the sample cans (not all of them, but somewhere).

  So let's be drunk, but careful. You can sleep in scarecrows, like in the movie "Garage". Brown bear (soon a hundred years old animal will knock, a unique specimen, it almost gave us a Nicholas II) will be adapted instead of the sofa.

  And in the vestibule, in front of the front door, we'll put a rare Borya skeleton.

  If the enemy shows up, he'll think we're all like this. And if he decides to check, we'll defend ourselves. Didn't I tell you we have a great bone set in the department? Plastic and natural... We throw our opponent's vertebrae and beat him with tibia.

  I think it's a great plan. Total life safety!

  And that's what I have to give up today in all seriousness.

  I took my specialty in the first place. And I passed for A's. And here's HMO and political science... Question.

  We've got the DISPATCHER...

  Well, what can I say? A lousy goat's wool is a block, and this one's even bald. That's a terrific shot. He's six feet tall with a cap in a stool-jump. Bald, like a pool ball. The figure is close to the right ball on rollers. When he walks, it feels like a healthy bun rolls on you. Faise-- asks for a tibel.

  And with all that, a creepy bastard. Love and pay. Tokarevich Yuri Mikhailovich.

  He used to be in the army. In the rank of ensign. Long time in the army. Five years, even. Then either he left or he left, but the army sighed with relief.

  But the students were sobbing. This bun falls to our rector as a cousin of our neighbor's aunt's friend. We should be friends with our neighbors. And this punishment of God was prescribed at our institute.

  Since he had as much to do with biology as I did with NASA's (or NATO's?) attack helicopters, he was taken to teach us HMOs to the poor.

  And the nightmare began.

  I'm silent about the wonderful habit of teaching the roar when I walk into a classroom: "Everybody, humble!!! ». It happens.

  I wasn't even offended when we measured gas masks for a whole class. Could've been worse. At least we weren't forced to do push-ups in them.

  I won't say that a former ensign couldn't lecture at all. And he did it in such a monotonous voice that it became harder to stay awake. I used to fight it by putting an earpiece in one ear from the player and disguising it with my hair. Then there was a chance to listen to something interesting.

  Our teacher's "Dignity" could have been listed for hours more. The worst thing was different. Former ensign, thirty-five years old, had a rare love affection and adored the phrase: "I'll marry my student.

  To find the joy of living together with this rare representative of the family of spherical students for some reason did not seek. So the teacher took it in his sweaty hands and actively hinted to all the pretty girls at "this is the most..." He stroked the pen, could put his palm on his knee, asked for the phone number or invited him to take the 8:00 p.m. credits when it was just him, the student and cleaning lady, Aunt Nina.

  Especially lucky the cute and blondes.

  Everyone was doing their best. Or they'd go to give up in a crowd and wait for their friend at the door. Or they tried to reschedule the score. We'd give them other people's phones. We'd wear wedding rings to class. They'd wear solid jeans and thick sweaters. We'd comb our hair so that even the last maniac wouldn't like it. That's a lot! One girlfriend came to give up with a guy, a scythe in her shoulders. They came into the audience together. There she went to pass, and the guy looked at Tokarevich in such a meaningful way - and asked: "Is it because of you I can not communicate with my friend for the second week? I've already got your OBJ in my teeth! »

  The lucky lady passed one of the first and a fiver exams. That's right.

  I know people like that... not that I haven't. Yes, you did. And werewolves and vampires. Valentine could've come with me. Or Miecislav could have looked at the light. But!

  I've already clearly divided my life into two parts. Daytime - with family, institute, friends and girlfriends, normal people who will ask when you say "vampire": "What, they're spinning Dracula again? ».

  The night is with vampires, werewolves, IPfovs and other evil. And I don't want to cross them!!! AND I WON'T!!!

  Cause I know these comrades. You give me your finger, they'll chew your hand off your shoulder.

  So I'm going to take the exam myself. On my own.

  Oh, shit! And today, Alfonso is still coming!

  I was so out of my mind that I didn't even notice the bell rang.

  - Leoverenskaya! - The teacher barked. - Have you decided to take root here?

  Oops!

  I jumped up, apologized, grabbed my stuff and ran away from the office. It's a good thing we only have two couples. I need to get some sleep. And that's what I'm gonna do.

  Another afternoon I called Valentina and asked her to send someone to the house to pick me up. By 7:30. And I wasn't even surprised when Konstantin came up to my apartment.

  - Hey there! Where are we going?

  - First the institute, then the vampire," I ordered.

  - Whoa! Why the institute?

  - Take the test.

  Constantine raised his eyebrows.

  - Yul, are you sure that's a good idea?

  - Alfonso will come and go, and I will live and study here," I circumcised.

  - So do we. And I would like to survive," sighed Kostya.

  I winked at him.

  - Come on! They won't keep me there for more than an hour. I'll be free by 8:00. And Alfonso won't be there before 11:00, 12:00.

  - I hope so. What's the exam?

  - Protecting pregnant women.

  - What?!

  - Togo. HOLMES.

  During the conversation, we managed to get out of the driveway and even reach the car.

  Gleb rated it short:

  - Girlfriend, class!

  - Merci in the side," I answered, stuck in another jeep.

  The old ladies on the bench were giving me a cool, hated look. Well, they don't love me, they don't love me. And I can't judge them. What do you think if a woman sleeps during the day and at night she's taken somewhere in healthy jeeps and Mercedes? And they don't bring her in right away. Just honestly?

  That's right. That's what they think of me as a woman of relief. I mean, a slut.

  I'm not protesting anymore. Especially since public opinion is now sounding somewhere: "Enta, from the twenty-third apartment, again whistled somewhere. Well, come on, she's a slut, but her wahelle in the entrance has made repairs, cleaned up, out, put a vase, coded lock ... Again, we now have a playground ... and the garages demolished ... Let him live, she doesn't get drunk in the evenings and she doesn't yell songs like Yurka from the twenty-fifth apartment... although... uh, as if she had been preached under communism..."

  I'm not proving that I'm good. And not even a camel. What am I supposed to do, prove to the dough: "I don't do prostitution, but I meet vampires on business? »

  Yeah. That's how they believed me. It's more like they're gonna call an asylum. And I'm gonna prove to my uncle in a white coat with good eyes that vampires exist.

  * * *

  The car arrived at the institute in fifteen minutes.

  - Julia, are you sure you don't want to go to the exam with me? - Kostik clarified.

  - Don't, don't...

  - Okay. But if you don't get out by 8:00, I'll come in.

  - And your teacher will be left without legs, ears and nose," smiled Gleb.

  - Why this choice? - I was surprised.

  - Well, why not? - A werewolf parried.

  I snorted and jumped to the institute. />
  I wonder if Yuri is already there, or if he has to wait two hours?

  Because 7:00 p.m. is still too crowded at the institute. 8:00 or closer to 9:00... you can at least look around, no one will come to the rescue...

  But I also had a couple of "nice surprises" for Yorick. Yorick-- that's what we called Yuri Mikhailovich's teacher. Yurik - poor Yurik - poor Yorick, a victim of drunken conception, as someone sang a hundred years ago.

  I got to the exam on time. Yurik had already come and sat in the auditorium, laying out the tickets in front of him. When he saw me, he very clearly ran his eyes from top to bottom, then up again and stayed on his chest. Yeah. I don't even wear bras.

  Why?

  And I'm getting a terrible scar from this disease. The one under my collarbone, from a vampire bite. So I had a choice. Either put something on or wear strapless underwear or not wear it at all. I spit, and I stopped at option three. I can't even get to size two, I can. People don't give a shit what I wear either.

  There's only one thing I didn't take into account. The people don't give a shit. The worried perverts don't. And judging by the buttery eyes, that's what Yorick was referring to.

  I was dressed to measure. So that after the exam, you can go to the meeting without changing your clothes in the car. I mean, still the same green suit. Only underneath - instead of a translucent blouse - a short silk top of the same furious golden-orange color. And the belt is tied in such a way that you can instantly tie it up and turn it into a lush bow.

  You can't freeze at a nightclub.

  The jacket had pockets sewn on the inside, which I now conveniently arranged the cheat sheets.

  - Hello, Leoverenskaya, come in. That you're standing at the door like your own. Take the ticket, Yorick sang.