Natalie Yacobson - Film About the Demon. Daughter of the Dawn

“I think so too.” She let go of his wrist. Blood flowed in a stream. “Those who watch films about demons let them into their world, and then they won’t kick us out.”

“Go away!” The roses were still whispering. Now it became noticeable that their petals were indeed in blood, and the warning was not in vain. But he was not going to leave. Better to die in the arms of Athenais today than live your whole life without her. She hugged him with cold marble arms, and it was as if another movie had begun. Only it happens not on the screen, but in real life. Death at the end will be real. The dragons on the robes of Atenais hissed in displeasure. They wanted death right now. But in the beginning it will be a whole night. Athenais smeared herself with Kiril’s blood. Blood is the price of any intimacy with a demon, even an autograph. And he came here because he was subconsciously ready to pay this price from the very beginning. The demon called him from the screen. And now this demon was holding him in his arms. And a demon’s embrace can only end in hell and death.

A new film was starting somewhere. He will not see this film. Anton got an autograph and ran away. Someone in red was chasing him. Although is it possible to say chased about someone who suddenly grows up ahead of the road, wherever you turn. You run, and he just stands on the sidelines. A monstrous black face with rings in its nostrils looks out from under a red hood.

Out of breath, Anton stopped. Many screens in the showcase showed fragments of a film about a beautiful demon who subdued the rulers of Ancient Egypt.

“Kings rule the world, but I rule over kings!” came the cruel voice of Alais. Pharaoh’s torn out heart beat in her palm like a living red flower. Her path was littered with bones and corpses, but she herself lived among gold.

Probably everything that was said about her was true. And the fact that her bodyguards are not people, but real ifrits. And the fact that the owner of the film studio is not its producer, but its slave. And the fact that she herself is a demon.

All these stories were so consistent with the plots of her films and ran counter to everyday realities that Anton did not believe them in the least. Usually, he approached for autographs to all foreign stars who came to Moscow. Friends who worked part-time in the crowd helped him get the necessary information about the location of the events. He managed to arrive on time in the lobby of hotels, to the doors of cinemas or restaurants where eminent guests dined. All he needed was a stroke with a pen in a notebook, so that he could then put up an autograph for sale. Many guys earn money like this – they take autographs from famous singers and actors, so that they can then sell them on Avito or on other sites where you can sell used junk from your hands.

He decided to keep Athenais’s autograph for himself as soon as he saw her, but it turned out that she took something from him. Namely, the blood tax.

Anton winced, remembering how the ballpoint pen, which he held out to the star, fell into a puddle, and something resembling blades stuck into his fingers. For the first time he paid for an autograph himself. His blood was used as ink. And now he was still being pursued.

The wounded arm hurt as if it had been torn apart with a float. Athenais’ focus was not at all like taking blood in a medical office. Her nails are the edge of scalpels and knives. It is likely that they are smeared with some kind of drug or even poison. In any case, when she hurt him, it began to seem to him that she really had not a bodyguard behind her, but ifrit.

It was pouring rain in the center of Moscow. It got stronger and stronger. Streets and highways, oddly enough, seemed completely deserted. There are few cars, there is nothing behind the shop windows. Not typical for Novy Arbat. Many computer centers appeared all around, which he had not seen here yesterday. Monitors, laptops, televisions for sale worked everywhere. A film with Athenais was shown on each screen. And the monster from this movie was walking right behind him.

Where to go? he wish he could meet or call a taxi. But everything is empty, the smartphone does not work. The battery ran out, as luck would have it. Previously, there were telephone booths everywhere, which nowadays do not exist. Their mobile communication survived. The cell phone is empty and there is no connection with the world. And all around is emptiness. Moscow suddenly turned into a deserted desert of asphalt and concrete buildings.

“Athenais turns everything into a desert.”

Did the pursuer say that? Anton nervously turned over his shoulder. The dark-skinned monster in red itself somewhat resembled the shadow of the ancient pharaoh. Why is he so attached?

Anton was not a believer, but suddenly thought to go to church. There was not a single church on the streets of the center. This is also not typical for Moscow. Many visitors from abroad like to repeat that there are more churches here than shops. And whole monasteries meet right in the center. And suddenly not a single building with domes and crosses. But the golden ankh, desert dunes and black angel wings flicker on advertising screens.

Some wretched creatures that look like starving vagabonds crawl out from under the sewers, from basements, from dark corners between supermarkets. They look like gray relics, stained with ash. And suddenly, frayed wings open behind them.

“Athenais always wins,” the dark-skinned pursuer whispers already very close, putting his claws on the boy’s shoulder.

“Let it be so, but why pursue me?”

“Self-interest is punishable.”

He already paid for the autograph in blood. Where else to punish? Anton looked around at Moscow crowded with fallen legions of demons. The feeling was that he got inside the film on the same set with Athenais. But she herself was not there. She stayed in a fashionable hotel with people. And he somehow got straight into the heat.

Michael woke up with the feeling that he was still in the temple. Many tired people feel even in their sleep that they are still sitting at work. This déjà vu is understandable, as the doctor explained to him. But why is it not connected with the fulfillment of everyday work duty, but with a rare visit to the churches empty after the service?

It’s like someone is waiting there.

But Michael was no longer going to church. What for? After all, the fresco, which he loved so much to look at, was mercilessly mutilated by restorers after renovation. Nothing remained of the beautiful angelic face, except for the picture, layered with fresh colors, mediocre. Sometimes updates are only harmful.

Together with the fresco, it was as if part of him had been destroyed. His soul was empty. This is probably why his conscience once woke up in him, and he did something that a secret service employee did not have the right to do – he forgot about his duty, so as not to feel selfish.

That same night he had a strange dream. Someone winged and incredibly handsome was present nearby.

“You did what no one else would have done. I admire you and owe you,” the divine voice whispered on the verge of reality and dream. “What do you want? Only wish!”

Sounds like drug intoxication as it is described! He himself never tested such euphoria, because he did not use any prohibited substances. He tried not even to drink energy drinks and alcohol in order to have a sober head. Where do hallucinations come from?

What did he do? He went after a strange fakir in a wild country, suspecting him of conspiracy with local terrorists. The man climbed the walls like a monkey. Well, okay. What circus performers do not exist! He went into the temple, smashed idols, overheard someone else’s conspiracy, somehow understanding languages that he had not even learned.