Название: The Mist and the Lightning. Part VIII
Автор: Ви Корс
Издательство: ЛитРес: Самиздат
Жанр: Героическая фантастика
isbn:
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Nikto shook his head in a negative gesture. His face, eyes, the steel grip with which he held her hand. “But I, unlike other girls, can handle cold weapons,” she thought some time ago, ha, what arrogance! As if in response to her panicky thoughts, they again heard the screams and signals of a hearth echoing among themselves among the guards. “They'll get me out!” – it flashed through her head, like salvation, and she screamed, or rather, tried to scream with all her power.
Her scream was immediately drowned out by Nikto’s palm, he clasped her with his arms, clutching to him and clutching her hand with one hand, and holding her mouth with the other. It seemed to Karina that the revolving walls were added to the trembling floor. Her eyes darkened, everything around her started spinning and turning around, she felt only Nikto’s body, his steel grip, his icy palm on her lips, and lightheadedness, as if she was being turned inside out. Now I will die, flashed through her mind, and yes, Nikto let me down. As my father said. He needed her to open the chamber door, take off the shackles, and he pretended to be weak and miserable. But he was not like that, now she understood it, these suspicions crept into her even earlier, when he so famously cracked down on the guards. She got caught, caught, and he was a demon. But why did he follow her if he had his own escape plan? Why did he need her? Maybe to take revenge on her father? This thought literally pierced her through, and she jerked so hard, trying to break out of her steel embrace, at some point she even thought that Nikto was forced to loosen his grip, it seemed she still managed to scream before losing consciousness.
Chapter three
The ring and the mask
Kors was sitting at the table, looking at the things lying in front of him. The mask and the ring. The mask made of a strange material a bit like suede leather, worn and scratched in many places, it could be seen that it had been used for a long time and often, and a men’s ring with a dark blue sapphire, Kors took it away from Arel. And Nikto gave it to Arel. Nikto… And this was his mask lying on the table in front of Kors, and he was looking at it with an empty gaze.
Everything turned out to be completely different from what he had expected; quite, completely different. And Kors again and again sorted through scraps of memory and tried to understand why? Why?! Why everything happened as it happened? He searched and found no answers.
Nikto deprived him of everything: Iness, the son to whom he never managed to come up with a name, and now he couldn’t, so he left him nameless, calling him just a son, not daring to name him, like the others, Nikto. To some extent, agreeing that it was so, he was not named, not accepted and has not become a full-fledged person due to the sharing of essence from the lower plan. So for himself Kors called it. Therefore, Nikto had the correct name, it reflected the essence, probably… Or maybe it was too cruel.
In any case, now the demon living in him deprived Kors of his last joy, his Karina. He took her, took her away, and Kors had no doubt Karina died. The demon will destroy her, crush her and deprive her of will, as he did before with Arel, and even with Lis, whom neither the “reds” nor the “blacks” could break. But Nikto broke him the ridge. And him, Kors, too…
Arel, the unfortunate Arel, with a black tattoo on half of his cheeck, starting from the corner of the eye and ending under the chin. Arel with one eye already redone too. Arel, also squinting from the light and turning away from the window. And there were the rings thick like little fingers inserted in his ears and nipples.
Lis was in a collar, and Kors suspected that this was only the beginning. And now Karina. What will the demon do to her? He will take her to his other slaves, and what Arel and Lis will do to her? Lis, scars made by whom have already remained on the body of his poor Karina. His beloved daughter, who is now in fucking hell. He understood this, he never had any illusions about this world, she lived in illusions, and the more painful it would be for her. He recalled their punctured hands, Nikto’s and now Prince Arel’s too. Yes, and Lis probably also had there traces of injections. But Kors knew very well that Arel had never injected himself before. Squint-Eye, but not Arel. Now his veins were festering from the infection no worse than Nikto’s. And thinking about it, at such moments, Kors wanted only one thing, no matter how terrible it might sound, so that his girl would die as soon as possible, so as not to reach the state that his son had reached, and to which Arel was approaching.
His son, a living corpse, a walking dead devoid of eyes, the ability to speak and see. And the worst thing that Kors understood now was that his son still really lived in this body, but Kors already didn’t know how to help him. He wanted to take revenge on the demon, humiliated him and tormented him, but it turned out that he humiliated and rejected his son too. What did he do wrong?! What did he need to do, what to do? At that moment when he saw Nikto, yes, he believed that it was his son, he really was very similar to Iness, very much. His bright eyes in fluffy dark eyelashes, pale skin and a little childishly puffy lips. And also… and Karina could not know this, but, Nikto looked like Kors himself, when he was twenty and when he made this fatal mistake, leaving Iness unattended. Kors seemed to see himself in his youth and… still Nikto was not more a human. Only the outer shell, the shell, which was used, but not spared. Not at all. And this killed Kors most of all, the way the demon was ungrateful and careless, but rather even intentionally sadistically used the human physical shell, mutilating and distorting it. And by the will of fate this man, this carrier of sharing essence, turned out to be his second child. Because, having killed Iness, they sold the baby to the witch, and she performed this terrible ritual.
And now Kors was sure that from the very beginning Nikto-demon knew who was in front of him. He knew that Kors was the father of the shell, and cynically used it, pretending to be a lamb, pushing on paternal feelings of Kors, and inside mocking how Kors behaved. How he felt, seeing his boy, his eyes down, a little naive, but sincerely trying to answer the questions. And he was already sitting on a chair at the table, already smoking a cigarette. What next? If Kors really believed him and admitted his son, he would open, hug him with tears. What would happen then? He didn’t know, and this question tormented him. Where did he make a mistake? Then, when he entered into open confrontation? Not succumbed, and moreover, answered with a blow? What would happen to Karina now if he tried to find some compromise, tried to negotiate with the demon, maybe make a deal, in exchange for the safety of his girl? He was too confident in his strength, and Nikto looked so weak, humble and submissive. And Niko deceived him and struck with a death blow. With this blow he killed both Karina and Kors himself. And Kors didn’t know what to do.
In front of him was the mask of Nikto and the ring of the Kors family.
Chapter four
Forest
Karina opened her eyes because the wind blew around her face. Recovering, she jumped up, looking around in surprise, and not believing her eyes. They were in the forest. Karina stood on the ground with young green grass, and the setting sun beautifully illuminated a small, cozy forest lake.
“Portal… Nik! Was it a Portal? Gods! How did you manage to find it? Feel? Open finally! Or does it open there itself periodically? You didn’t seem to do anything… Although, if to believe this story with Rosa, you have already dealt with Portals…”
Nikto was sitting nearby on the grass, as if stunned, the last rays of the setting sun hit him directly in the eye, but he didn’t squint or turn away, didn’t try to move aside. From this Karina made a disappointing conclusion that he was still blind.
“Gods! Well, when will you normalize? When will you recover?!”
He shook his head in the negative and lay down on the grass.
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