Darina Grotto - Unlimited

‘I’ll never believe in it in my life!’ Vasya closed her eyes, dreaming to get under the blanket. Some nervousness and fear were penetrating under her skin. Anxiety was a pain in the neck. Kharon set the teeth and lowered his head. ‘What are you?’ she almost silently asked, looked at his eyes apprehensively. His eyes became burgundy colour ringed round the pupils which were getting blacker. They seemed to be pulsing, tearing the eye-balls apart, surrounded them with the flame of imperfection.

‘What a question!’ he pretended to be surprised, rubbing his forehead.

Vasilisa was silent. She felt afraid while she was looking at metamorphoses on the demon’s beautiful face. Suddenly it was like a cold wind. The sepulchral one. The cadaverous wind. Slowly it was chaining the girl, paralyzing and making her be stumped.

‘What am I?’ Kharon said quietly, stooping closer to the girl’s face. ‘I am the one who saw the earth be born. The one who saw you appear in his own likeness. I saw you spawn. I am the one who held Lucifer when he shook himself free from the wrath of his father. I am the one who with Lucifer raised the goblet of the absolute power. I am the watcher who knows no rest. I am the Sovereign Legionary Demon, the Lord of Lust, the Handler of Passion.’

‘You’re insane…’the girl stammered when she understood finally her fears was for some reason in particular. Without noticing Vic tried to get up from the bed in vain as she didn’t understand that her body was paralyzed having given all its energy to the demon. She wanted to run away as far as it was possible. She had to run without turning back and begged her heart not to jump out of the chest because of fear. It had to give a little more, give her a life, a possibility to hide and escape.

‘You’re scared of me now…’ the demon grabbed Vasilisa with a slight, almost lightning-quick move of his arm, looking intently at her eyes. ‘Is madness a synonym of what for you? Ah? Oh, you’re afraid of speaking but I can hear what you’re thinking. You’re thinking about a psychopath. A serial killer. No one has ever thought about me in this way… especially women. Don’t be afraid. I’m not gonna hurt you. You are the ones who hurt yourselves. Besides you’re not just a pawn in my arms…’

Vasilisa looked at his moving lips, listened to his dizzying voice and tried to lie to herself saying that everything wasn’t real but unreal.

‘Now, Vasilisa,’ Kharon looked up at her, ‘you’ll forget this conversation as this information isn’t the one you need to know. Look at me.’

The girl lifted up her glassy stare at Kharon, being in horror she realized that nothing in the world would be able to make her forget what had happened in her flat. By looking in the demon’s calm eyes Vasilisa didn’t know her recollections were being got out of her mind by parts and shattered then with no chance to be recovered. In a few minutes of silence and hypnotized looks Vasilisa realized that several seconds ago she had had the best sex with the most handsome man in her life. She also understood that she was smothered with envy Victoria. Vasilisa was preoccupied with the only one question why was Vic with him?

Kharon unnoticeably smiled, having read little cocky ideas that he had put into Vasilisa’s mind. He liked them more than a crying lady, immorally hiding behind suddenly appeared conscience to be more deserving in the man’s eyes because she was still irresistible in her own ones.

Victoria was drawing sketches. She tried. She had to finish a sketch of advertising product but every sketch of hers was ended with appearance of a man’s picture, who held a woman. The crazy strokes, you could say absolute absurd, drew the silhouettes on white sheet. They were sharp and self-confident. She didn’t even need to erase them a bit! Yes, they were a bit chaotic, sometimes you would hardly understand where the beginning and the end were. But every stroke was in its right place. They were muddled apart, but the picture was almost finished.

Vic didn’t understand what was with her head and hands. How was that possible? She told herself to draw a square and the pencil drew proportional bodies of a man and a woman instead of a geometrical figure. Her hand drew them like if it had been sure for its life that any square looked exactly like this.

Victoria drew and drew until she realized that rebellious limb was about to fall off due to tiredness. The girl looked up the pile of drawn papers. The only thing she knew for sure was that the man she had depicted was Kharon. Victoria had no doubt it for a second. Victoria couldn’t understand who the depicted woman was. She didn’t find herself in it.

‘Well, what’s up?’ The door was adjusted a bit. Gregory came to her for the fourth time that day.

‘It’s ok.’ She answered and quickly and easily smiled, studying the manager’s face. He looked the freckle face of the red-haired girl with such kind and friendly look as if he was up to something. Then he lowered his eyes at the working table of the girl that was covered with pieces of paper drawn in pencil strokes. Vic was enveloped with a wave of confusion. The desk was full of pictures of some overs who made love with lust and lasciviousness.

‘Damn it…’ Vic swore barely audibly and burst herself to order papers.

‘What’s wrong with you?’ Gregory was surprised and quickly came up to the table, having taken pieces of sheet.

The girl’s heart was about to jump out as she was nervous. She pursed her lips and looked at the man as she was horrified to guess what her boss would think of her. But Gregory kept silence and frowned at the picture.

‘What’s it?’ he asked finally and stared at the girl.

‘Mr. Dogmanov, let me say,’ Victoria whispered in a low and squeezed voice, coughing. ‘It’s… How to put it mildly to make you understand right… I… I like graphic arts and… bodies… Yes, human bodies. Well you understand humans are organized very beautiful…’

‘Vic,’ the mad interrupted her excuses. His stare was already changed. It became kinder and softer. There was a hint at a smile on his lips.

‘Yes?’ Victoria lowered her eyes. She felt hurt so much that she wanted to cry. She sniffled trying to hold tears. She felt like a teenager boy whom mother had caught him while he was masturbating.

‘I have nothing against graphical arts and human bodies… You shouldn’t worry about it as if you had pictured something immoral. It’s a pile of drafting strokes.’

‘A pile of drafting strokes?!’ the girl exclaimed being unable to believe her ears. She glanced at the sketches and sank down into her chair because of the suddenness. All the papers were stroked in different directions. There were just strokes. They meant nothing and looked like nothing. There were pictures of psychopath.

‘I didn’t mind insulting you…’ Gregory apologized with surprise in his eyes looked at Victoria’s face and mad worry on it, who was pottering in drawn pieces of paper.

‘Are you ok, Vic?’ he asked mysteriously handing the paper in her hands. ‘You look strange.’

‘Do I?’ she asked.

Her voice was almost hysterical. Something played bad tricks on her. Was it her consciousness or imagination? Victoria was fed up with looking like a fool who was incapable of controlling herself. She got used to everything… But every time something could happen that threw her off her stride. She clearly saw the drawn couple making love and now she had a pile of drawn in pencil paper.

‘Wait,’ Gregory took hold of her trembling hands trying to calm nervous tremor, trying to calm the girl down. ‘Don’t litter sheets of paper. Calm down, Vic. Calm down! It’s ok. It’s ok.’

He stroked her hands and the girl who could hardly hold tears back. He looked at her eyes as he wanted to understand if she was calm.