Unlimited

Victoria couldn’t believe her eyes. Could that be really all? There was no need of nasikabatrachus sahyadrensis’s legs, boiled with psychrolutes marcidus’s gills, no need of flowers which died out last century…there was need of a couple of pictures and easy spell. The girl was glad not to call Lucifer and communicate with him indeed as collaborate in any way. She was glad to manage on her own. She couldn’t even believe in it.

Despite that it was midnight, Vic didn’t think of sleeping. What a sleep when her mad dream was about to float into reality?

The girl was tracing the even circle with a piece of chalk on the floor, then a pentacle in it. All the planetary symbols were found in Internet. Kharon’s seal was on the paper in the book. There were lots of candles at home.

As soon as all was done Vic started reading the spell in each corner. When she finished reading the last lines in the northwest corner, a man appeared on her bed. He was looking at the floor. There was solid disappointment on his face.

Vic gave a start of surprise, having seen the man on her bed. The man kept silence. Victoria looked intently at him. She didn’t like his countenance, but she liked the feeling she had in the first seconds when the demon appeared.

‘Kharon…’ she whispered.

Suddenly the window opened because of unexpected mad wind. The candles were blown out one by one. The light twinkled and was gone. The scans flew up, curling into an amazing whirlwind. Pens, pencils, brushes, small objects began to turn under the unusual wind pressure, fluttering the red hair, endlessly throwing it on the eyes.

Victoria was nervous. She was scared. The boisterous weather in the flat pretty enough frightened the girl.

‘Kharon!’ she said louder, trying to get fluttering spikes away from her face.

The wind didn’t stop. The man, keeping the deadly disappointment on his face, was sitting and looking at the drawn pentacle. He didn’t see the scared girl.

‘Kharon. Please…’ panic tears ran down her cheeks.

Fear almost provoked hysteria. The girl was shacking. There was no light, but the feeble moon threw off its rays at the sad demon’s face.

Having heard “please” Kharon finally lifted his eyes and stood up sharply. The rough weather wasn’t going to calm. The wind was getting stronger, pieces of paper were flying, light twinkled sometimes.

‘What are you doing?’ he asked in a sepulchral voice and looked down into her eyes.

At that moment Victoria understood what to be feared meant. There was a real fire in the demon’s eyes, and the tongues of fire seemed to be about to break away and burn it all down the tubes. His hands, holding the girl, were deathlike cold. His lips were pale-blue-violet colour, compressed so strong to turn into a thin thread that was going to tear.

‘What are you doing?’ he asked his question again, pressing her shoulder stronger.

Victoria was staring at the flaming fire in the demon’s eyes, being afraid of looking away.

‘I…’ she stuttered.

‘You.’ The demon’s voice thundered in her ears.

‘I wanted to see you’ at least Vic lied and closed her eyes.

Kharon grinned but didn’t let the girl.

‘See me?’ he asked. ‘Do I have to trust you? A human child… full of ancient malice… You’re lying!’

Slowly the rough weather in the house was coming to rest. The mad album pages, wrinkled and torn in places, began to get down in a gentle leaf fall; the wind calmed; but there was no light still.

‘I…’

‘You’re shaking…’ the demon tucked her fluttered hair behind her ear.

‘You’ve scared me,’ Vic answered, gave a sob, trying to relax in the divine beauty arms.

‘You want to tie me to, don’t you?’

Having noticed no her complain, Kharon stared into her eyes, waiting for the answer. Vic turned away and took a sigh to calm down her animal fear swarming in the depths of her soul and consciousness.

‘No…That means, actually, yes… Kharon, I don’t know what to say…’

‘Tell me the truth. Do you know what the truth is? It is what you have here.’ The demon touched her chest. ‘And here,’ he put his finger at her temple, ‘here’s a lie…’

Victoria said nothing, was scared to look into the man’s eyes. He’d been still holding her shoulders, silently demanding her responsibility for her actions. But there was nothing of that.

‘Fine. You wanted to tie me up.’ Kharon confirmed. ‘Did I not tell you that it’s impossible? Did I not tell you that it is a very bad idea?’

He pulled the girl closer to himself, fixed her eyes on her. The ferocity in his eyes came down but the fire had been burning still. The demon was angry.

‘I beg you…stop it. I wanted to tie you up because I can’t get your face out of my head! I can’t get your hands, pressing my waist out of my mind… I can’t forget these feelings. Your voice… Oh my God, your voice! I’m getting crazy when I hear it! That’s why I wanted to tie you up to! A night ins’t enough for me…Isn’t enough.’

Vic was sobbing, showing her true face, baring her desires, letting the demon sink into her ocean of first-born feeling.

‘Did you want to be my girl?’ the demon asked coolly.

Vic nodded her head, trying to calm down.

‘It is impossible. All the people are equal for me and the price is the same for everyone. You cannot bargain with me. The terms were established, and I think only Lucifer is within his right to change anything.’

‘A night is nothing.’ Vic repeated insistently. ‘I wanna get all not only sex.’

‘Sorry.’ Kharon smiled and dropped to the bed.

He unbuttoned his shirt and gave the girl a mysterious look. Being numb she gazed at his body. The man touched the bed sheet, gesturing her to lie near him. As if she were high, Vic was gazing his bare torso, at the moves of his eyes, hands, mouth, quirked at the corners. Her breathing was becoming heavy, the heart was beating stronger.

‘What’s it with me?’ she asked quietly, making herself turn away from Kharon.

Next second he jumped up, pulled off the shirt and the girl appeared in his mind-numbing embraces. She was losing her mind slowly and silly.

‘It’s called Lust, dear. My favourite sin,’ Kharon was whispering, ‘A night is in return of your life. Admit it…’

There were the gentle hands, velvet lips, words, soft embraces, kisses…

‘Listen,’ Vic said with no opening her eyes. ‘No. it’s a wrong deal.’

Kharon started back from her and the severity, appeared on his face, made the girl be nervous again.

‘A wrong deal?’ he asked in surprise.

Getting angry, the demon couldn’t believe his ears. He seemed to be growing before her eyes, some smoke was supposed to be behind his back while his face was getting coloured in red wine. The girl was enveloped by desperation.

‘I can kill you. Just for nothing. Just right now. Then you’ll get nothing at all! Can you feel your legs getting full of cement? Can you feel it getting frozen, depriving you of moving? Two minutes and it’ll cover your lungs, filling them with hardened concrete… Just two minutes left.’

Her heart was beating as if it was mad because of fear. It was so terrible to recognize your own body with each second to stop reacting to nerve impulses, feel your own legs getting hardened and then they stopped feeling, and you were going to fall somewhere down. At that time a sinister look of a creature, came from inferno, was devouring your face with suffering on it.

‘A minute left… Now it’s a stomach.’ The demon was staring at the girl. ‘I am so tired of your games. Come to me, go away, a good deal, a bad deal. Whom have you found in me, a Seraphim? You, a human child! How dare you, offspring, disturb me from my deeds? Bargain with me?’

A simple fear couldn’t describe the girl’s feelings. There was fear agony and despair. The demon didn’t touch her, and a real hell started its existence inside her. A lump in her throat prevented her from making any sound and thoughts about mercy was eternally turning in her head.

Suddenly everything stopped. The heaviness, tonnes of cements left her body, agony died down. But anger didn’t leave Kharon. He silently watched the girl, grasping the air. She was crying because of offence and weakness, impossibility to get what her heart had been yearning.

‘God forgive me…’ Victoria got on her knees, put her hands over her face and burst into hysteria. ‘What am I doing? God, I beg you… Our Father, which art in heaven! Hallowed be thy name…’

She was praying, clinging onto her tears, burrowed her forehead into the floor. Kharon was looking at the crazy picture, then hunkered down and took the girl by the hand.

‘Our Father? Seriously?’ he asked severely, ‘do you really think it works?’

‘I’m agonized!’ the girl wept. ‘My feelings for you… I’m betraying God! If you exist, then He exists! I want Him to get you out of my head! I don’t wanna think of you anymore, I don’t wanna see you anymore. I don’t wanna you touch me anymore… But I can’t master unruly my feelings… God will help me!’

‘God?’ Kharon kindly looked at Victoria and with implausible grin. ‘Victoria,’ he kissed her, pressing her to himself. ‘You will not call me again. You will not do, even try to do any magic on me. You will not even think of me until you are ready to give me what I’m asking… or I shall have to kill you.’

Kharon didn’t stop kissing the girl, her tears, her lips and cheeks. She was listening to his forbidding and by every second, by his every word she understood her be getting worse and worse.

‘I shall not see you anymore, good-bye’ the demon whispered.

Victoria opened her red eyes: she was alone. Suddenly she was broken through with electricity. It was a dawn, mess was in the room like tornado and earthquake had been there, the pentacle was in the floor, candle wax was everywhere, pages were thrown about… Vic was sitting on the floor and weeping.

Was Kharon right? Was it a lust or a love seed for something forbidden? Was it love for a creature which didn’t deserve to be loved actually? That man… He was so charming, so handsome and attractive to be the truth. The heart fell in love with an ideal skin at that time her mind endlessly whispered about true essence. He just mocked her. You and a thousand-year-old demon? Love? Who do you think you are, dear?

Reality. Welcome back. How many people begged God make them face the reality? To show them what was really going on in the world? Victoria begged God take her out of harm’s way where her heart was bogged down. But He didn’t hear her. Probably because she was so quietly asking Him, and she didn’t really want the reality. Uncertainty confused the minds without bringing stability.

Crying, wiping her tears away, hating herself, Victoria was washing the floor, destroying the trace of the Sabbath. She put the candle ends into the cases, placed the scan pages. Broken-hearted, with sunrays caressed the earth, Victoria went to bed. There was emptiness again. No dreams. No visions. Inanimation…

13

^th

June 2013 (Thursday)

Pale-face students were running everywhere, whispering, shaking the cheat sheets, praying. It was a philosophy final examination.

Victoria was sitting near the auditorium with a book, answers for test questions, carefully reading everything that she had had to read within 5 years. She needed just a few theses, just a little about philosophers, two more pages.

‘How’re you getting on?’ Igor, course mate, came up to her.

‘Don’t ask me.’ Vic waved. ‘I remember nothing. If I pass by some miracle, then it’ll be a real miracle. You? Have you learnt?’

‘Partially. I think I’ll say something. That’s a philosophy!’ he smiled. ‘After a party is coming up in case of successful examination…’

‘Successful examination?’ Vic smirked. ‘We’re not even in the auditorium.’

‘Don’t be such a pessimist. We all pass! As you will do!’

‘I hope you can foresee… What about the party?’

‘So, there’s a café at Sokolniky. We’ll pass the exam and then go there.’

‘Are we chipping in?’

‘No. Pay-your-own-way, or you can discuss with guys. Someone doesn’t drink and, I’m sure, they won’t chip in.’

‘Right you are!’ Vic smiled. ‘Fine, if I get through the exam, then I’m in.’

The guy gently tapped on the girl’s shoulder and left her alone.

‘What are you doing here, Drache?’ the prefect appeared from nowhere, ‘Philippych is calling you. Hurry!’

Victoria took her notebooks and student books and ran to the auditorium.

There were five students let inside. Vic came up to the table where she registered her examination card and with no looking at the questions, sat to the table.

The first question was Scholastics. The basic theses. Representatives. And the second question was Marxism philosophy.

Vic closed her eyes. The first question wasn’t so scared as she thought. There was a couple of opening sentences and then she would be ready to say something next.

The second question caused some problems: Vic didn’t have time to read up to the philosophy of XIX century.

Having sat to the moderators, Vic answered the first question with ease. But then fantastic stuff began.

‘Marxism…’ Vic drawled, understanding more that she was going to celebrate nothing at the party.

‘Yes, Vic, Marxism. Let’s start from the definition of Marxism you are going to give.’

‘Marxism is…’ the girl frowned.

The only thought and words that were in her head was what should I do? You couldn’t be silent in such kind of situation. Never. Only words, beautiful words, perfect settled and chosen ones could get universal appeal. Silence was a bad omen that both parts, taking a share in the conversation, didn’t understand.

‘Marxism…’ Victoria was drawling, obviously being despaired, lowered her eyes, which were going to cry out of frustration.

‘Are you ready to provide an answer, Victoria?’ the moderator asked two minutes later.

The girl looked at the man, sitting near the moderator. It was Philipp Philippych. The professor of Philosophy, who could teach his subject in a very interesting and dexterously way, was sitting in shock. He was ashamed for his students. He lost so much time and efforts to give all the history of philosophy to see during the exam faces, dipped into frustration!

Remorse started torching Victoria step by step. She had really time to prepare her examination and had tried to do until she met him.

What would she say to her mother? What would her mother say? What a shame and take-down! She didn’t have any cheat sheets!

Suddenly Vic heard a clear muttered voice: “philosophical, economic and political study. Friedrich Engels and Karl Marx founded it.”

Vic turned. All the students were busy with their own examination cards and preparation to them, they had no interest in faery failure of Victoria Drache. Then who muttered the answer to her?

The girl looked again at the moderator and, is if she were bewitched, she repeated what someone had told it.

‘Good. Marxism conception?’

Vic lowered her eyes and noticed Philippych’s lips silently moving and then a clear whisper went on: “…political capitalism economy, historical materialism, scientific communism. The philosophy centre is a conception of a human subtraction from own labour products…”

Vic was watching the professor’s lips and understood nothing. The whisper, he was speaking, was a whisper but loud. It was so loud so the person sitting next to Philippych, would have absolutely heard what was going on near.

‘Have you told anything, Professor?’ Victoria asked unexpectedly.

‘I’ve asked you to give Marxism conception. Philipp Philippych is silently waiting for the answer.’

The moderator was speaking, and Victoria saw Marxism conception coming out of his mouth. It was just in tune with his announcements! Simultaneously!

‘What’s the hell?’ Vic asked herself under her breath, touching her hair.

‘I beg your pardon? Are you ok, Drache? You don’t look like yourself.’ Philippych asked quiet. ‘You’re pale, sweated… Shall I let you go to the nurse?’

‘No,’ she whispered in replay kept on looking at the moderator’s lips muttering about Marxism conception. ‘I’ll go on.’

In a trembling voice, Victoria re-told everything that the moderator said and got good mark, and looking round, she left the auditorium.

‘So? How was it?’ group-mates came up to her.

Vic came along the hall, speaking and listening to nobody. She washed her face with cold water, trying to wash off madness that had attacked her. She couldn’t still believe what she had seen was true. How was it possible to believe in such things? And on the other hand, how was it possible not to believe? Knowing nothing Vic passed the final philosophy exam because the moderator himself had told her the examination card! What a nonsense!

Cold water streamed. Refreshing. Victoria refused to believe in what had happened. It was too much. There was no such a thing.

In fifteen minutes, she left the WC room, forced herself to smile. She had to speak a lot about how the exam was, how she was lucky, that she remembered the correct answer, that professors weren’t mean. Vic tried to calm her course mates down, infused hope into them, saying that everything would be okay, and everyone would pass.

‘Vic, have you passed?’ Olga Vladimirovna spoke in a voice touched with emotions on the cell.

‘I have, I got a good mark. Don’t worry.’

‘Oh, thanks god. When are you going home?’

‘In the evening. Maybe at night. We’re gonna to a café with mates.’

‘Okay, try to be at home earlier, will you?’

‘Mum!’ a reproachful note appeared in Vic’s voice. ‘I’m not a baby!’

‘Yes, you aren’t, of course. You’re a child. So be careful. Are you listening to me, Vic?’

Victoria looked angrily at the ceiling, holding the cell away from her ear not to listen to the talk.

‘Okay, mum, okay. I got it. See you.’

‘Vic, I’ve not…’

Her mum was speaking something when the girl hanged up the cell. She didn’t want to listen to any moralizing. After Vic had seen the professor saying her the examination card and nobody but Vic could hear him, she wanted to relax a little bit. It didn’t matter what people it would be around. The main point was not to be alone, especially at home.

After the exam all students went to a café at Sokolniky. They chattered bragging of their achievements and call luck bad names, telling how they had passed.

The moderators turned to be very severe. The Ministry Chairman was almost physio. He failed every student, having fun. If Philippych hadn’t been there, not everyone would have passed. Philippych got it hot and strong – the Chairman made fun of him and of his badly educated students. And if Victoria thought that Philippych answered the question himself, then the moderator wouldn’t have done the same.

She remembered those terrible whispering lips, the blank, whitish look, getting pale skin. She couldn’t get the face disfigured by indifference out of her memory.

Everyone was celebrating the successful examination while Victoria was meditating, making herself sure that her subconsciousness projected recollections in the shape of the whispering professor.

After she drunk two or three glasses the girl started relaxing and losing herself in dreams. If it was madness then damn with it, she could do nothing anyway. If mind got ill, then it was the end. When you were drunk, you better recognized and got over your own hopelessness than when you were sober. It was easier for the girl when her course mate embraced her, laughing in unison with her. It was easier to see his face imagining no Kharon’s face. And, of course, it was easier to kiss him back because there was nothing similar in comparison with the demon’s kisses.

As soon as Victoria felt the miserable embracing with a perishable human body of male sex, being very annoying, pleasureless, she left the café when no one saw her.

There was metro ahead and having gone a little distance towards the underground kingdom of marble and granite, Vic stopped. The big park behind her offensively looked at her. There were fresh young leaves, embracing students and loving couples on benches, drunkards, were going to sleep hat in hand to the strains of tree crown murmurs on the warmed ground. The lanterns were fabulously lightning, along the carefully done paths, giving the atmosphere of Peter Pan fairy tale.

Without a second thought Victoria went back to the park, understanding nothing, why she was doing it. The only thing she understood the unreal smell of adventure. She walked on the smell…until she stumbled and fell into the bushes.

Then there was darkness. There was nothing before her eyes. She didn’t understand if her eyes were open or not. There was just coldness gently touched her body. The dream wasn’t a dream and reality wasn’t a reality. Nothing was understandable. She had a cramped consciousness, dancing in alcoholic delirium. It was busy. It had no time to look after reality. It was still rushing having forgotten the mind. Time was happy: nobody watched it! A rustle… Another one. The mind was tired. It wanted to back to reality, but all the attempts were in vain. An abrupt movement. A blaze was before her eyes… Pain. Violent pain. She wanted to cry. Her mind had been still apprehending existence out of the bounds of subconsciousness, remembering the sly consciousness.

Someone’s hands. Warm. Strong. Zero gravity. That was what meant to hover over the ground. The breeze… The beginning of the way.

Vitoria opened her eyes. The darkness. She couldn’t understand who she was. The girl tried to move her hands and legs: they worked. Pain! Here was it! On the upper eyelid of the left eye. Vic blinked and the pain was gone nowhere but got stronger.

‘You landed on a sharp knot…in the bushes.’ A sudden quiet voice brought Vic to life a bit.

In her fright she jumped up and fell on the floor… that wasn’t her one. The darkness still covered the truth and with vigour, Victoria was still feeling for little pile on the floor.

‘Where am I?’ she asked under her breath, sat on her knees, with no result looking into the night dark.

The silence was in response. Vic was turned her head like an eagle-owl, peering into forward. She carefully got up and faltered ahead like a year-old baby.

‘Hey!’ she shouted, going like a zombie, stretched out her hand. ‘Who’s here?’

Consciousness was coming back slowly into reality, then dragging fear, which always said no. It was exhausted already to come every day to that girl.

‘Have you forgotten yet?’

The hands were the same, strong and warm, gently touched her palms, holding the girl not to let darkness make her fall.

‘Kharon.’

Victoria didn’t know what to feel: fear? Blissfulness? A scare? Enjoyment? She was losing in her feelings.

‘Is that really you?’ she asked with fear, stepping back from his hands. ‘Where am I?’

‘Well what if I say that you are at my place? Would you be glad?’

‘At your place? Your home? What time is it? Jesus…mum’s gonna kill me!’ Victoria stared round.

Despite her eyes were used to the darkness, all the same she saw nothing but the dark silhouette. No furniture was seen there, nor street lamps light through the curtains. The windows seemed not to exist at all.

‘I called her and said that you would come in the morning or afternoon…’

‘You…What did you do? Perfect!’ Victoria came up to Kharon, trying to give a sever look at his face. ‘How should I explain a man who called her? How to introduce you? The demon?! Kharon the Demon? Just Kharon? Incubus? Or just to say that Victoria is a crackpot?’

‘Are you blowing up me?’ Kharon was surprised.

He had a velvet and silky voice, but his intonation scared the girl.

He snapped his fingers and wall luminaries, awkwardly spread over the wall, lit with a languishing pale light, filling the room with a weak glowing. Vic stepped back. Kharon wasn’t supposed to appear like that: an unbuttoned white shirt, let out of his trousers, blinding the eyes, the shoes, combed hair, barely visible bristle and the black eyes full of outrage and true wonder.

‘No.’ The girl said quickly and folded the jacket about herself. ‘No. I just wonder what I’m supposed to do next… And what did you say my mum?’

Vic stopped speaking, starring at the unbuttoned shirt. A slight smiled played across his lips and he started buttoning the shirt. The girl’s burning in red cheeks made him cheer up.

‘That’s all?’ he asked as he did the button over his stomach.

‘What?’

‘That’s all what you want to know?’

‘No.’ Victoria became severe unexpectedly. ‘I want to know what you’re doing here? Or what am I doing here if you forbid me to summon you?’

‘You answered your question: I forbid you! But no one forbid me to appear according to my will and of my own free choice. By chance, I saw your body in the night wilds and as I am sure that sooner or later, I will get from you what I want, I decided to save your body. I did it. As for your mother,’ Kharon started speaking in as the same voice as Victoria did, ‘mum, don’t worry, I’m staying at Vasilisa, I’ll come tomorrow.’

Vitoria hanged on his words, looked at him and she didn’t understand how he was capable of doing what he was doing. His voice sounded identically like hers.

‘Did she believe you? My mum, I mean.’ Vic amazingly blinked.

‘She doubtlessly did… Besides why do you report when you are going to come home? What time and with whom.’ Kharon asked, finally finished buttoning his shirt. ‘What an uneasy thing…’

‘What do you mean why? She’s my mum, she worries what if something bad happens to me…’ Vic tried to explain.

‘So what?’ Kharon gave her a predatory look behind his shoulder. ‘Ah? What? What will she do? What can you, people, do for those you love? If you were pressed with a large-tonnage slab, could she pull it off in a second to give you a possibility to breathe? Could she get you out of a sinking ship in the Indian Ocean if she were on the other end of the spectrum? What could she do if the Death came into the game?’

‘Kharon… Mother love. It is… It’s difficult to explain, I have no children, but I love my mum and if a large-tonnage slab pressed her I would turn inside-out to try to get her out of that… And I can imagine how much a mother loves her child and for what she is ready to do for him or her…’

‘I am sometimes glad that I communicate with living people. You are so funny! Especially your philosophy! None of you could do anything, but the grief is a good start to shed tears over. You have a bad headache, Victoria! What can you do with this?’

‘How do you know…? Jesus, I’m asking this again. I can’t get over the thought that you know everything. To live like this seems to be dull.’

‘No, it isn’t. I told you, people amuse me. So, what are you capable of doing to your headache?’

‘Take a medicine.’

‘Then take it.’

‘I don’t have any.’ Vic got what he was driving at. ‘But you can help me, can’t you?’

The demon smiled. The girl was staring at him, remembering each line, trait and dimple of his. His face was beyond compare, she couldn’t help but look at him.

‘Help me,’ Vic whispered tenaciously, feeling her temples become clenched more and more.

‘Take away your pain?’ he was near the girl, stroked her hair. ‘Make you free from this feeling?’

‘Yes,’ Vic closed her eyes and like a kitten, almost began to purr because of his gently touches.

In a second pain drew off, the warmth spread over the head vessels, enriching the brain with new power.

‘What else, my little mistress?’ the demon cynically asked, holding the girl in his arms.

There were his lips again. His lips were on her neck. The small lightning jumped through her body in reply to his kisses, hotness of his hands, his palms. Passion burnt an insane fire and Vic didn’t have even a drop of water to put out it. Just to agree the deal and her body would get what it was yearning for. But neither her heart nor her soul would get the love, which was described in books, discussed by multimillion budget actors on the world TV. Her soul wanted more than just the lust of the flesh. Vic didn’t want to think for a moment that the demon… Did he know what love was? Was there a germ of the truth in that sharp word for him?

‘Shall I go on?’

His whisper cut through the night, made it scream, growing faint from pain. Victoria opened her eyes.

‘No. I gotta go…’

The girl grasped her head and with horror she remembered her doing. Kharon didn’t control her. He was silent, folded his arms and watched the girl. He didn’t understand her. But what? If there was a great desire, then why didn’t she want to satisfy it? Why didn’t she want to pay and then to get what had been driving her crazy every night?

‘Where’s my shoe?’ the girl asked in a big hallway.

Kharon appeared in the doorway and smiled, languidly gazing at Vic.

‘Shoe?’

‘Yes!’

‘The one that you’ve lost in the bushes?’

‘In the bushes?’ Vic looked in the demon’s eyes in surprise. ‘You couldn’t have taken it with you, could you? How am I supposed to go now?’

An unexpected complaint struck down Kharon. He gave the slightest twitch of one eyebrow, astonishingly looked at her olive coloured eyes.

‘What am I supposed to do, Kharon?’

The empathic voice cut into the head. The demon was silent, with no stopping burning the girl with his amber eyes.

‘You aren’t supposed to leave today…’ he said finally.

‘It’s perfect and wonderful but you didn’t answer my question. How am I supposed to go in on shoe? How couldn’t you have guessed that I’d need both of them? People usually use both. Simultaneously! On both feet! Moreover, you saw it in the bushes! I don’t understand was it really so hard to take it with you?’

Kharon was black as sin and there was a reason for. Women had never ever talked to him in such a way. Dream always obfuscated the reality that all of them were ready and said the only word “yes”. That’s all. They didn’t need to talk further. Then the body language and mind-blowing games came into reality at the forefront of catharsis. But to blow up Kharon for the lost shoe…It was a nonsense!

‘Fine.’ Vic took a sigh, being in a shoe. ‘You have to bring me home. I don’t know how you do this, but I have to be at home.’

‘Are you sure about “I have”?’ the demon boiled over when his mind was slowly coming back.

‘Absolutely. I can’t go barefooted. And I’m barefooted by the merit of you.’

‘Okay!’ the demon snapped his fingers before the girl’s nose and between one breath and another they both turned to be at Vic’s small room. ‘You’re at home.’ Kharon confirmed the obvious fact.