The Mist and the Lightning. Part V. Ви Корс
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Название: The Mist and the Lightning. Part V
Автор: Ви Корс
Издательство: ЛитРес: Самиздат
Жанр: Героическая фантастика
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And as confirming that everything is as usual, Arel jumps out of bed, despite the dizziness, which makes it darker in the eyes.
Nikto fits to the side again, tucking the mutilated half of his face into the pillow, but does not close his eyes. His eyes glitter in the dark, and he watches Arel light the candles, fumble around the table, rattling the bottles.
"What are you looking for?"
"Food!"
"?"
"I feel bad! I need to eat! I need to put myself in order! I … I do not want, do not want to become like you!"
Nikto is yawning.
“I see,” – he says indifferently. Another Arel nonsense, well, he has long been accustomed to this.
"Heck! There is nothing here! Nik!"
"Arel, we have no food here."
“And when did you eat?”
“Yesterday, we ate …”
“Nik! You are hungry!"
Nikto laughs softly and says nothing.
"What did you eat?"
Nikto thinks for a second.
“Vegetables, I don’t remember the name, they were completely rotten,”
– he laughs again.
“Did you eat rotten vegetables ?!”
“The servants fired them; we all ate. And you too."
Arel makes a movement of the head, as if it drives away the annoying fly from itself.
“And I?”
“Yes.”
“And Enriki?”
“And Henrik.”
“Does he again inject himself with "water"?”
“Yes,” – Nikto replies, the illogicality of Arel questions does not bother him.
“I promised you the golden mountains when I took you to the team, promised profits, lands, slaves! And what is the result! Rotten vegetables!’
“Carrot.”
“What?”
“I remembered there were carrots, and …”
“Stop doing that! Stop it, Nik, I'm ashamed!”
“Take it easy. I picked up pretty well at Dim in the Colosseum.”
“Yeah! And he gave me everything!”
“Not all. To restore the streets, you need a lot …”
“Streets! The streets are eating everything! And my people are starving! I'm a crappy boss! And I am hungry! I need to eat! And have some coffee, do we have coffee? Or water at the worst!”
Nikto moves his lips slightly, as if uttering a new phrase to himself.
“I do not want to die! I was a living corpse now, a walking corpse! This is scary! I have to appreciate my body, take care of it! Control it! I need to eat! I want to eat!”
“Well, go and eat! Who keeps you up! Just do not yell here in the middle of the night!” – Nikto tries to lie down more comfortably, closes his eyes.
“It was scary! It is unbearable! I am human! I want to be a man! This is such a happiness; I did not understand! I need a wash! It stinks from me!”
Nikto opens his eyes again and lets out a sigh of fatigue.
“Is there water?” – Arel rushes into the adjoining room, rattles the jugs. “Nik! Call a servant, let him bring warm water!”
“Wash yourself cold, huh?”
“Are you kidding me! It is cold as ice!”
“Arel, go to hell!”
“Why is it so cold! Why not melted the fireplace! Call the servant!”
“What good, if there is no fuel.”
“Fuel?”
“Wood! Firewood! Coal, I don't know …”
“Okay! I do it myself! I'll go down and do everything myself! Here you will be bent without me from cold and hunger, and no one will lift a finger to at least do something!”
“I feel neither one nor the other, Arel …”
“I know! That scares me! I want to feel! I want to feel hunger, cold, everything! All manifestations and emotions! As a person, not as an animal!”
Nikto laughs.
“What wrong with you?”
“Nothing! Just stayed a bit out of my skin!”
“And in whose? Animal’s?”
“Not! Nik! I was you! And … And it is wrong if you live like this …”
“Another glitch, Arel …”
“I would be happy about that! Let it be just a bad coming, because if this is your life, then this is hell! Why didn't you say anything to them? Did not explain? Although yes, you didn’t really know the language, they would be even more scared, and your voice …”
“What explained? To whom?”
Arel rushes to him, snapping abruptly, squeezing his shaggy head in his hands, clinging to himself.
“To these assholes! They humiliated you! Gods! How I love you! Why – don’t know! Why do I love you so much?” – he kisses Nikto on the injured forehead, on the scar. “Poor, poor my being! My poor monster!
You are a monster, Nik, do you know about this? And I love you so much!”
Nikto meekly allows him to squeeze himself, squeeze in clumsy embraces, touch the scars.
Arel removes him from his face, gazing in the wavering light of candles, his gaze glides over the body, neck, chest, and arms, all painted СКАЧАТЬ