‘Do you think that I am nothing beyond dreams?’
‘No, of course, I don’t, it’s just very difficult to do things which you used to do in dreams. If you come up to any woman, more than less, she will reject you but simultaneously she will plan a night with you, exaggerating everything.’
‘I shall get what I want anyway. She will agree.’
Lucifer looked at the demon and slightly smiled. He was catastrophically bored walking over the earth. People didn’t make him laugh anymore. Everything turned into every day simplicity: senseless wars, where no one understands what they fight for; murders for depreciated pieces of paper or for insults from childhood; robberies – thieves stole from other thieves, the circulation was locked; adultery were just like a pray during the dinner; children betrayed their parents, their parents betrayed their children; love was for sale: the richer was loved stronger… Everything had happened already, and then it was predictable and trivial for hell inhabitants.
‘I’d like to watch it. Would you mind, my friend?’
‘Sure’ Kharon shook the stretched hand.
‘Well shall I go then?’ Lucifer grinned, made a move. ‘The game is on.’
Kharon followed the leaving woman with his eyes and making sure that no one was watching, just disappeared. He appeared in a narrow-deserted lane. A girl with cans was walking before him. Kharon was hard at her heels.
The demon didn’t believe the reality to be so different from the dream empire. So many times, he saw wandering people there and they didn’t even realize that they were in non-reality. They felt true emotions, wept, laughed, frightened, took to flight, lost their relatives, found new beloveds, and looked for familiar faces through faceless mask of crowd. They didn’t understand them be in oblivion.
Kharon firmly decided to check his King’s words: the demon was fully sure that people would never be able to tell the reality from non-reality. But he was also sure that his King couldn’t mistake.
Kharon grasped the girl by the hand. She jumped in her fright and got the cans out of her ears. The man was strongly holding her hand and whispering about fabulous love, getting the girl closer to his arms like a spider dragged a fly into its cobweb.
‘No!’ she screamed as loudly as she could, fighting against the numb incubus with her hands and legs.
‘Hush, hush!’ he pressed her to himself, closed her mouth with his hand, ‘Just let me touch you, let me show that thing that you won’t be able to see without me. Let me know you. I shall give you the whole world, the world you knew nothing about until today. I promise you when you experience it, there will not be regret about your right choose.’
The girl was gazing into Kharon’s eyes, looking for any little hint that he wasn’t a crazy maniac taking a foil to pierce her through.
‘I’ll take my hand away and you promise that you won’t be screaming’, Kharon asked, touching her temple with his lips.
The scared girl nodded her head, accepting the terms. Kharon slowly took his hand away, showering her velvet cheek with little, soft kisses. His hand shamelessly unbuttoned her jeans, smoothing meanly and alluringly under the cloth.
‘Please…’ the girl whispered, and tears were dropping down from her eyes.
A round, warm tear fell on the demon’s hand. He stopped and severely looked at the girl. Her chin shook, the huge tears were running down her cheeks, she squeezed man hands strongly with her cold fingers, prevented him from touching the dearest part of her body. There was neither passion nor desire in her eyes and thoughts, there were only tears, where panic terror splashed like a fish in water.
‘Why?’ he asked in a low voice, buttoning up her jeans.
‘Please… let me go’ the girl persuaded him, setting her jeans, brushed away the tears.
Kharon took a sigh and took a step back, letting the girl go. She quickly minced towards crowded street, praying all the known and unknown gods, still couldn’t believe in her second birthday.
The demon was in the lane looking at the asphalt in rage.
‘It should not be like this!’ he grumbled and hit the wall with his fist.
In several hours Kharon came into that girl’s dream, who had been crying and begging not to touch her. The dream was beautiful: there was magical nature, iridescent with all colours and shadows. There was summer forest noise, smell of rare acerose leaves, tender, soft chattering of cheerful birds, clouds hurrying up nowhere and the warm wind.
There she is, let her hair down the back, with a smile on her face, barefooted, wearing a sundress, running through the grass. It is soft, silken like pillows. The girl is running and a male figure in white appears on her way. She recognizes him, it is the same man who attacked her in the lane… But now she’s not afraid of him. She honestly enjoys his beauty. She’s sure that her subconsciousness is projecting recent event. She’s not afraid of him.
Kharon takes her by the hand, and she smiles at him. His touches are so gentle that she wants him to touch her again and again.
‘Let me know you…’ Kharon whispered again, taking off the sundress strap from her shoulder.
‘Yes…’ the girl agrees, closes her eyes and immerses into something unreal…
She didn’t open her eyes in the morning.
The demon, having confirmed his abilities, finally could relax.
Vic managed to catch two of her university mates who told her in short everything that the professor had been trying to explain. She was impressed with what she was told even more than she’d been before Kharon appeared in her room. With every new word said by the students Vic got that not the best time would come forth and she was almost weak to do anything as well as she was unable to learn philosophical nonsense.
Having left the university, the girl turned out to be in the nearest park, holding strongly the philosophy notebook under her armpit. Being devastated Victoria was sitting on the bench, got and believed nothing. She had to make herself read more examination cards. What a disgusted touch of nature! Keeping in mind these passions coming forth one still waited until for the last moment and then, having waited, got into nirvana: head was in lather, deadlines were violated, leadership checked guillotine and whittles the stick for their asses, colleagues and students competed who was going to be the first to be impaled. There was no plan but chaotic movement. On the one hand, that acting was understandable. Could you imagine how bored student would be, if they prepared for everything in advance? They would never know what meant when stomach twisted as if it were full of death angels; when tongue talked nonsense with no communication with brain; and when turmoil was finally over and in the contrary to all expectations, lathered head got its ‘good on you’.
On the other side if people prepared for their performance in advance, others would make a good pile of money, thanks to calmative herbs well sold and then thanks to ruptured ulcer treatment, happened because of owing to a nervous condition.
Victoria was tried to memorize anything for the exam, but her head rejected that stupid and uninteresting idea. It wanted to think of bad guys… of Kharon. It wanted to make itself believe that everything had been just a dream, that she had made up another faked fairy tale to believe in. Her thinking was interrupted with a phone call. That was Daniel.
‘Yeah?’ the girl said tiredly having thrown back her head to the sky.
‘Hi, Vic, I’ve come back already, the business is over, it’s okay now. Wanna see you. Shall I call on you?’
‘Daniel, I…’ Vic started her exculpatory speech, ‘I’m in the park now, studying philosophy. If you want, come here, we’ll be drinking coffee and speaking.’
‘What park?’ the young man asked being inspire.
‘What park?’ the girl re-asked surprisingly looking around. ‘The one near my university.’
‘Hm, give me 20 minutes, I’ll be there. Wait for me, ok?’ he asked flirting.
‘Ok.’ Vic got off the cell and looked ahead.
Emptiness. There was nothing in her head. Only fantan noise. The wind was playing with red hair, rustling fresh leaves. Everything that Victoria could understand at that moment was that each nerve and cell of her body wanted to see Kharon.
At such moments many people suffered from unbearable and unanswered love. They wanted to cut their veins to calm insurgent pain down. Picture of beloved haunted them day and night, not letting mind alone for a second. Bottom of stomach was twisted because of unexpected and unreasonable thoughts. There were only wild schemes where beloved finally condescended and kissed them. While an imagined picture was touching with its lips, wrapping its arms around, mind was walking away to be lost. They couldn’t say no yet to themselves or imagination, they could only yield to it, absolutely refusing common sense. They couldn’t eat, drink, there was a beloved in dreams, there’s a dream about the beloved in the reality… Oh dear God, could it be love? Did people really think and call it love? What an uncommon bullshit! Love, for sure, was a brutal and unbridled bitch, knowing nothing about pity and mercy. It was like a plague and there’s no treatment for it. No true love could be treated with medicine… only death could help and oppressive silence after it.
In fact, there was more dangerous thing than love and it is severer. It doesn’t have time to wait and make mad. It has obligation to deprive of sleeping and sense for very short terms. No, it’s not an infatuation or sexuality. It’s passion. Like a match passion burns a human and he or she, burning inside, runs and looks for a place to plunge to calm the fire down that ruthlessly licks off skin pieces and gets closer to head. If a person felt passion once he perfectly gets what it is about, how much it hurts and how weak a person comes. Of course, he or she’s weak not only in moral way but in physical, getting exhausted also. Passion is like a gigantic tapeworm, stuck in and sucked it dry to the very last drop. But a human keeps on crying “I love you”. He or she still has no idea that faced with no love. He or she is alone on passion ship in a tremendous storm, in the middle of eternal ocean. And the ship is about to sink down. The man is afraid of saying “I want you” … He doesn’t believe these words. He believes “I love you” but love isn’t aware about it. He calls it love to justify his animal lust. People have the greatest faith in that the difference is very big: to say to a woman “I love you” and “I wanna fuck you”. There is difference only for linguists actually, but in life there is no difference. Love between sexes means “I wanna fuck you”.
But in the context of just passion then “I love you” means nothing. This is not necessary yet. Passion has already put its fingers into Victoria, having troubled her minds. At that moment she wanted just to see him…
‘Here you are!’ Daniel appeared on the path. ‘I’ve run around the whole park already, finally I’ve found you. I called you… you didn’t answer.’
The young man followed her hands with his eyes: the cell was strongly clutched in her fingers.
‘I suppose it’s no use to say that you didn’t hear it…’ Daniel sat near her. ‘Why, Vic? What’s wrong?’
Vic shifted her gaze. She knew the end was close but had no idea what to say.
Breaking up is always difficult, especially, if everything seems to be fine. Just feelings happen to be gone… And a wild passion intrudes a habit to live with someone. And you can’t pretend anymore that you love.
‘I know all.’ She said in a low voice aside.
‘You know what?’ a note of alarm sounded in his voice.
‘I know where and whom you were with.’ Victoria looked in Daniel’s eyes. The young man looked concerned definitely.
‘Who told you?’ he asked.
‘What difference will that make?’
‘It’s a lie…’
‘The thing that you are telling? Yes, it’s a lie. Why’re you unable to admit your lying? Why do you prefer to tie yourself into knots but not to stop lying? Enough is enough, Daniel!’
The young man put his hand to his face. He fetched a sigh and looked ahead. Victoria was looking at him and waiting for his answer.
Suddenly minute speck of dust and dried spurs rolled over the road. An unexpected wind blew them up. It was strong and warm. Her loose hair was swung in the wind, hiding her face. She frowned and looked at where the unnatural wind was blowing from. In some new leaves which flying head over heels Kharon was walking through them.
The horror possessed Victoria, her hands shook, fear little by little paralyzed her body.
Kharon wasn’t alone, there was a girl walking with him on his arm. She was mumbling something but Kharon wasn’t listening to her. He was devouring Victoria with his squinty eyes. There was a vague disembodied smile on his lips.
The wind twitched his hair and shirt tail. Everything seemed to be changing infinitely fast except the demon’s look.
“What a lovely picture. You are plotting against how to break up, aren’t you? I shall help you. Her name is Julia. A blond. She is 22. She has got a car and a rich father. Her eyes are blue. They made love three times in the Indian Ocean, four times in a hotel room and once on the plane when they had a flight there. She has got a very beautiful undergarment and she loves sex. She does not need any obligations. Think more. Any ideas?”
Kharon passed by, put his story into the girl’s head mentally. When he had passed by the bench where Vic and Daniel were sitting, the wind failed, June, awash in sunset lights and green, came back to the park.
‘Who told you?’ the young man asked.
Victoria had already heard that question for five minutes ago.
‘Have you seen?’ she suddenly asked.
‘What?’ Daniel asked again in surprise.
‘Gloominess, the wind, bedfellows who have just passed by…’
‘Nobody’s passed … Vic. What wind? Gloominess?’ he gave her a puzzled look then touched her forehead. ‘How are you feeling?’
Vic winced and avoided him like leper, understanding nothing about what was going on. She could have sworn it had happened in waking life, what Kharon said to her… the wind, the sun fading away. All of those were too real to be untruth.
‘Who told me?’ she asked again. ‘What difference will that make?’
‘It’s a lie.’
That conversation had already happened. Vic had heard it already. The cold enveloped her legs and hands, her consciousness and common sense were fogged. The girl accused herself of insanity. But then she remembered what Kharon said passing by.
‘You went to the Indian Ocean. When we were having a flight there you had sex on the plane, in WC room. Her name’s Julia. She’s 22. She has a rich father. She’s blond and has blue eyes. You had sex three times in the ocean…’
Victoria saw the young man’s eyes getting wider half-frightening, half-realizing that his girl knew the truth, half-surprising where she got the truth from if he hadn’t said to anyone.
‘…Four times in a hotel room.’ She was on the verge of tears because of grief and the truth. ‘She has a beautiful undergarment…’
Daniel was himself on the verge of tears listening to his girl’s voice.
‘…She loves sex and doesn’t need obligations…’
Victoria couldn’t stand that anymore and burst into tears, putting her hands on her face. The young man was indescribable shock. He stared fixedly in front of himself, seeing nothing. He was frustrated. Victoria wasn’t supposed to have had all the information. Where did she get it? How could she know about sex? About a hotel room?
‘How did you get it?’ curiosity overcame him, ‘Did Julia blab?’