Ring of Madness

by Royden Labrosse

  - Not holy water?

  Charles snorted a snort.

  - Julia, what good or harm can come from this water!? Understand, the water will not become holy because of the fact that it dumped a cross and whispered a few unimportant words to anyone.

  - Oh, yeah? Then why are vampires afraid of her?

  - Because you humans are horrible ignorant creatures! Think for yourself, what exactly are they afraid of?

  - Silver.

  - Many paranorms are afraid of him.

  - And you?

  - I'm not. But there are many who fear silver.

  - Aspens. Garlic.

  - Not without it. And what else?

  - Sacred objects.

  - Boom! You said it yourself! Sacred objects! But what kind of cult they belong to...

  - So what you're saying is...

  - Exactly! Understand! Stops evil, or there's evil, undead, not a cross! Not holy water! And not a stupid prayer babbling! Stops the Faith! If you Faith, you'll be stronger than any uncleanness. By the way, okay, you forgot what you believed in before! But you probably didn't bother to read the current sacred texts either!

  - That's not true! - I'm offended. - By the way, I even read Lavea!

  Anton Lovey was the author of the Satanic Bible. And between you and me, I read all this religious literature just as a self-education. It's like a DLL textbook. Well, what do you do? For some reason, there's nowhere literate advice on how to handle paranorms. No, there's all kinds of "valuable" literature on the trays like: "Practical Magic", "Spots, Spots, Spots," "Cleaning the Aura and Karma" and other delights. That's just faith in them ... It remains to crawl through the classics in the quiet hope that THERE - years so five hundred years earlier, knew at least a little more. Or lie more convincingly.

  - But seriously... what do you think the Bible is?

  - Collection of Jewish folk tales in Roman processing.

  Charles was heartily laughed at. He laughed so contagious that I couldn't stand to join him. Then I became angry, and the dragon brought me a glass of water from the kitchen.

  - By the way, it says - I remember it literally: "If you have faith with mustard seed and say to this mountain, go from here to there, and it will pass; and nothing will be impossible for you.

  - So what?

  - And that. Tell me, where in this phrase is God mentioned? Allah? Buddha?

  - Where in the Bible would they mention Buddha to you?

  - But do they mention the devil there? And what other cults are better or worse? But that's not the point! Yulia, you see, this phrase just says to believe. But it doesn't mention what! Who!? Why!? It's just to believe. And it's not the cross that stops those same vampires and burns them! It's the faith that man puts into his actions! FAITH! Not in God! And not in Allah! It's just the belief that tomorrow will be tomorrow. Tomorrow the sun will rise. Tomorrow will certainly be better than today. Tomorrow life will go on even without us.

  - And the day after tomorrow, too, - I slightly reduced the pathetics.

  - At least when! You know very well - the main thing is not sacred objects, but faith in life! Love! Just so you know - God is Love, and Love is Life! And this is what saves people! And it is this power that people put into their faith! It's just that they are terribly afraid to love - to love to the madness of this life and the whole world. And to believe in them. And in themselves! And they're hiding behind God! You can understand them - not everyone has enough strength! But you have enough of them! So get used to it! Get used to believing in life...

  I rubbed my forehead. That's not what I was worried about right now.

  - Wait a minute. So you're saying you can scare vampires with an Osiris symbol instead of a cross?

  - Well, why not? Why is he worse? By the way, that's what they did in Egypt. And in Greece, vampires were shuffling from the servants of Helios and Zeus. And in Russia, any magician in your country could rewind a vampire into a ball of woolen threads and tie his socks.

  - Yeah! Okay. Look, then... aren't my powers bad for vampires? If I'm drawn to the magic of life, and they're dead...

  - And it's as you wish," Charles remarked very sarcastically. - Like with claws. You can heal, you can maim.

  I sighed.

  - Listen, do you want to sit at the computer again? In the meantime, I'm gonna put it all on my mind. It's... it's a nightmare!

  - It's not a nightmare here. I'm surprised you didn't know that before!

  Yeah, how would I know that? From Mieczysław I swayed like hell, other vampires, he forbade me to enlighten myself, IPPF, although they offer their services, but it's no use...

  No, it's better without such good advisors.

  So it turns out that even though I can do something useful, I don't know at all what I can do.

  Oh.

  And I happen to be a year away from being a life magician? Mm-hmm. That's funny. (chuckles): Okay. Do we count on the fingers? A water magician? Hydromancer. The death magician? Necromancer? And the wizard of life?

  Vitamag? Vitamag?

  Oh, yeah. Vitamin's better right away!

  I snorted and crawled down the couch.

  After drinking me with water and finding out what made me laugh, Charles laughed.

  And laughing, I noticed that the comparison was the right one. The magician of life is a vitamin to the world around him. It's delicious, it's good for the place and the theme.

  I wonder how this world intends to consume me.

  I don't feel like being eaten!

  О! Speaking of eating!

  I pulled Daniel's drawing, the one with the Beast, and showed it to Charles.

  - What's that?

  - A vampire saw me like this. How do you think that fits with the magic of life? From my point of view, this animal carries nothing but death.

  Charles had a good look at the drawing.

  - Yulia, what did you have with that vampire?

  I shook my head.

  - Don't ask. It hurts.

  - He loved you," he just said half a dragon.

  I turned around, blinked my eyelashes so I wouldn't cry.

  Danielle...

  Whoever said the time of the wound heals, has never been hurt in his soul...

  - And also... Look how alive they are! He understands your essence better than I do. Have you ever thought that life is a cruel thing?

  - A hundred times.

  - So look at this drawing differently. Charming, bright, constantly changing, delightful and inimitable, as life itself is a woman - and her backside. Alas. Life is unthinkable without death. Kindness - without cruelty. Love - without hatred. That's why the Beast. But what you will become is up to you. By the way, did he show up yesterday?

  I put my eyes down.

  - Yeah. I was scared.

  Charles shrugged his shoulders.

  - Julia, I don't think I'll give you any good advice. But I can tell you one thing for sure. If you are afraid of your beast - in fact, the dark half of your soul, it will sooner or later own you undivided.

  - What do you suggest I do? Love that nightmare of a chimerologist?

  I looked again at the drawing of the Beast in the mirror, the Beast with the human ones is mine! - with my eyes. He didn't get any better. Well, not a gram!

  - No. Not love. Take it as part of yourself. Accept - and...

  - Turn into someone else?

  - Or should I finally be real?

  - Are you sure I can handle this?

  - No. But I believe in you.

  Mm-hmm. A position worthy of the last fanatic. I don't know. But I do! Beautiful!

  * * *

  Konstantin Savelievich Leoverensky considered himself a happy man. And not without reason.

  If you imagine his whole life as a scale, he would say that happiness is in balance. And in order for someone not to break it, you have to be able to defend yourself.

  And he's been learning that since he was a kid. That is - from the moment when his village was dest
royed by beasts and evil, which God somehow gave a human face. Although...

  Little Kostya did not believe in God even before, and even after the death of all his relatives and friends - all the more so.

  When he realized that mother, father, uncles and aunts, grandparents, little brothers and sisters were dead... not just dead, but dead, he was possessed by a cold mad rage. I wanted to kill. Not even like that. I wanted to kill. Slowly and painfully. Taking the lives of every one of my family - a thousand lives of my enemies. To hurt them in every way possible.

  If it hadn't been for the devil's luck, little Bones' life would have ended a few days later - he wanted to ambush a German patrol. But he was lucky. The guerrillas decided to set the same ambush. And Kostya got into the squad.

  They wanted to evacuate him first. Then...

  Kostya has forever remembered his first commander, Peter Sergeyevich. An old uncle, a former precinct officer before the war, and with the arrival of the Germans, who had become their constant curse, smoked a "goat leg" and looked at the guy sadly.

  - You can't bring them back. You have to live. And you will die. You're too young, too hot, too... you're hurt too much... Those who take revenge are often killed first...

  Kostya looked like a wolf.

  - Tie him up, put him to sleep - I'll hold him down anyway! I don't care if I die as long as more of this scum is dead!

  Pyotr Sergeyevich looked at the guy who had clenched his fists for several minutes. What chained his gaze? What changed the seemingly already made decision?

  He didn't know it himself. And Kostya didn't know. But he fought with Pyotr Sergeyevich until the minute the squad was surrounded. Not many managed to get away. Pyotr Sergeyevich stayed there in the forest forever. He - and another thing (the tongue did not turn even now to say - a man) forty fascists. There's no need to be afraid of a grenade, it's hand-held. And for some, it is also the last hope. When you're surrounded and realize that you can't leave anymore...

  You can always leave. And you can take as many impurities as you can, the land of your homeland stomped on with your boots.

  He was lucky again, he managed to get away alive. To get back.

  During the war, there was - everything. And captivity, among others. He is forever remembered by the German soldiers who captured him in the village. And the face of the man who surrendered him. Betrayal ruined many at the time. Some betrayed their own for money, some on belief. Kosta didn't care. He visited the traitor later. He came to visit with fiction. He dressed up the shroud, painted stains on his face and scraped himself in a window. Not for long. He listened to hysterical screams and squeals. And then he set fire to the hut.

  You could have just set fire to it, without warning. But dying in a fire is terrible.

  No better than dying in the frost. Once captured, he was determined to die, but to give nothing away. And he would die. He wouldn't say anything under any torture. Any execution. He wouldn't talk about his own. But the Germans learned a lot about themselves then. And about the origin of the pure Aryan race from rats, toads, leeches and snakes, all crossed in a very unnatural way.

  And about his Führer, too. Hitler's genealogy, habits and mores were described by Kostya so colourfully that if it were at least a third true - they wouldn't even let him into hell, justly fearing for the morality of devils.

  He hasn't had three teeth since. That's unfortunate. Now he's replaced them with porcelain teeth.

  He's lucky again. When they decided to take him down to the ice-hole. Tie him up there and leave him to die slowly in icy winter water.

  No one could have predicted the kid would chew on the rope. That he'd risk diving under the ice. That he'd swim out and live. But Kosta was lucky...

  Were you lucky?

  He didn't remember well how he got to his own then. He felt like a piece of ice. He felt like there was ice everywhere. Outside. Inside. That little snowflakes flow through his veins instead of blood and freeze there. And it took a mad effort to take one step at least.

  Then he was drunk with moonshine, stolen and wrapped in a blanket. And three days later, he opened his eyes completely healthy.

  Lucky...

  After the war, he tried to make a life. He got married in the 50s. Ten years later, he waited for his son's wife after two miscarriages. Tanya was wonderful, but the war spared no one. Everyone knows how many lives she took. But nobody measured the health she had taken. Those men who couldn't live crippled. Those women who couldn't give birth to children. Those children who never became adults because of the diseases that came to them. Or they just died before they were 20. And then the doctors would say, "Man gave all of himself." And they gave it to him, when he was twenty, when he was thirty... And when a man was opened - he was twenty according to his passport, but his internal organs belonged to a seventy year old man.

  [11]

  The groom was born a painful child. Weak, fragile. But he loved music. He enjoyed going to ballroom dancing. Kostya never understood - when did he miss the reins?

  When did life go wrong?

  Or maybe it was just a three-time cursed era of change?

  Already in the eighties, he knew it wouldn't end well. And friendship with former sworn enemies. And playing democracy. So he was preparing for the worst. It never occurred to him to follow the law. The important thing here is not to get caught. With the money he made, he bought what was always valuable. Something that's easy to hide. Take it with you. Sell it in any country. Gold. Precious stones. Antiques. Good, Tanya was an art critic.

  Yeah, they could have gone to jail for that. But they might not have. And it wasn't a habit to risk Costa. He wasn't particularly dedicated to his family.

  And then Ginny got married. And Kostya realized for the first time that he was missing.

  What is love?

  Who does she come to and how does she claim to be?

  Do we obey her - or not?

  Everybody has their own choices and their own roads.

  Kostya cursed everything in the world when Ginny first brought Alia into the house.

  Cute girl with green (someone will say - ordinary, brown, but they did not see a scattering of greenish speckles in her eyes) mermaid eyes and dark shredded hair in one second and forever took over his heart.

  Kostya once thought, before the wedding, that he loved his Tanyushka.

  Now he understood that he only wanted to get away from loneliness. He did it. Tanya genuinely loved him. And she tried to do everything for her husband. She was his friend, support, reliable companion.

  Except not with love.

  But Kostya would rather cut off his hand than show it to her. He became more attentive to his wife. Gave her flowers for a reason and no reason. He stopped by for work. Arranged little festivities, making all her friends jealous. Tanya blossomed and was sincerely happy.

  And Kostya couldn't help himself. He kissed his wife - and closed his eyes. Instead of blonde hair, he saw dark ones. Instead of blue eyes - greenish, with shimmering specks around the pupil. And he clenched his teeth tighter.

  He'll never cheat on his wife.

  He'll never embarrass his family.

  Never betray his son.

  And time went by and time flew by. The first grandson was born. Slava. And Kostya became a truly loving and caring grandfather. Deep down, imagining that this is his son. And even himself without admitting it. Especially since the boy grew up looking like Eugene, his father. From his grandfather was very little in him.

  Nine years later, a granddaughter was suddenly born. Yulechka.

  She was nothing like Slava. And yet, Kostya could not figure out which of his grandchildren he loved more.

  Slava. Cheerful, sociable, open, in some ways trembling and surprisingly vulnerable. Selfish, because the firstborn was pampered by everyone who was not lazy. Demanding and in something limited.

  And Julia. Closed and quiet. Not liking company and noise. But vulnerable? It was difficult to understand. From Bone's po
int of view, granddaughter understood early on that the most important thing in life is the life and health of people close to her. If it is, the rest isn't so important anymore. Demanding?

  No. Frankly indifferent to a lot of things. Who doesn't like to dress up nice. Not reaching for the trinkets Tanya adored. But ready to burst into tears at the door of the bookstore without getting an interesting book. Kostya sometimes thought that Yulia was already born with the worst information hunger. It was in her blood. Forever.

  Capricious? Neither is it. It's kind of a secret box. Which you don't have to rush to open.

  It was hard for Costa to tell which of his grandchildren (are they already grandchildren? How time flies!) he likes more. Slava was an external copy of his father. Strange as it may seem, Julia looked like her mother - and a bit like him. However, what does it matter? Which hand to love more? The right hand? The left hand?

  Kostya was more or less satisfied with life. But I couldn't help thinking about Al. I couldn't get her out of my dreams and thoughts. Just couldn't.

  And I didn't know what else to do. The "forbidden fruit" mentioned? Or is it passion? The passion of a tired, fire and water-ridden man? And he's a good father to Ale. And in terms of what he's been through, so is his great grandfather...

  Or is it love after all? That's the one. It's crazy. And unbridled?

  They say "first love." And they forget that there is another. Even more fiery and scary. Love is the last.

  But Kostya could control himself. No matter what. He could.

  He knew what duty was. And honor. And honesty.

  Only when perestroika began, I decided to give up everything - and go into business. To keep my head occupied? Or was it just another battle? And did it have to be won?

  Kostya didn't know. But he was ready to fight. And then to think about why he got into the fight.

  And everything's spinning.

  It wasn't hard to sell some of the gold stock. He also managed to participate in the "big hat" (and jump in time) with "MMM", "RDS" and other nasty things. Realizing that rabid profits would only go to those investors who had time to get their money on time, he did not wait too long. Yeah, he didn't have millions of profits. But he wasn't buried under the pyramid either.

  And the money went into business. At first, he worked on the bus himself.