Unlimited. Darina Grotto
phantom.
‘Leave my son alone!’ Victoria heard a threatened whisper from another world.
‘Far be it from me to be with him!’ the girl snapped back. ‘If you need then you look after your son! I don’t care a damn about him!’
Vic was storming. Weren’t people really able to distinguish truth and lie? Was another world imperfect?
While the girl was grumbling at the ghost, she didn’t even notice a living person, not a ghost, staying in the doorway.
‘Delivery’s for you… on the first ground.’ The colleague said, having glanced at the girl curiously, and left the office, ‘Completely demented…’
Victoria heard the colleague call her demented and at the first time probably she realized difference between when you call yourself a psycho and when someone else did it.
The girl went down and met a bearded man’s eyes who looked antisocial. Her instinct told her that of all the people crowded in the lobby of the building this unattractive man was a courier.
‘Good afternoon. Are you Victoria Drache?’ he asked.
‘Yes.’
‘Delivery’s for you.’
‘But I’ve ordered nothing.’
‘I know. This is the gift from… just a second,’ the man got in the inside pocket, ‘it’s from Mr. Kharon… Unfortunately, he didn’t say his surname.’
Finally, a smile appeared on her confused face. A warm wave ran over her body. Vic could feel them one by one, running over the red-hot muscles and vessels. She felt slight shiver, poignant her nervous, fascinated the girl.
Vic took the package stretched to her and suddenly she understood that the man delivered nothing on the earth.
‘Have a good day,’ the man said having looked at the girl mysteriously, smiled and melt in the crowd.
Vic came back to her office, put the package on the table and stared at it. Having no ideas how but Vic already knew that there was a small box, the consist of which she could see unclearly. It was something globe-shaped, small and full of red colour. It wasn’t a ring.
The girl smiled and finally opened the package. Yes. It was a box of turquois colour. It was an ecrin. There was usually jewellery in the same. Despite its light weight Victoria understood this small thing was a great value.
‘Open it now!’ she ordered and opened the box.
There was an ideally cut crystal of red-burgundy colour, in size of a thumb nail. There was a real kaleidoscope of red tinctures in the middle of the mineral. The beauty and the unusualness of the gem stone consumed the girl’s perception and mind. She fascinatedly gazed at the stone glamming, as its light seemed to pull down, consume the viewer’s perception. A phone call broke Victoria’s careful gazing at the stone.
‘…I can see it, Love,’ Victoria heard the voice belonged to her beloved man. ‘It’s on your palm and you think that the parts of your skin that the stone touches are getting more and more alive, don’t you? I can see its unusual colour reflect in your eyes, the colour of the ripe pomegranate… It really does for your eyes.’
Her chest raised more often, her pulse was beyond the limits, established by WHO.
‘What’s it, Kharon?’ she whispered.
‘Painith.’
‘Pa… what?’
‘Pa-i-nith as people call it on the earth. Do you like it?’
‘I do! It’s really beautiful. I can’t tear myself away from it…’
‘I can understand you.’ Kharon smiled. ‘It’s one of the most beautiful stones of Lucifer’s collection.’
‘Is this Lucifer’s stone?’ Vic gave a shiver after she had heard the Lord of Hell’s name.
‘Well, no. Lucifer has similar and thinks it to be one of the most beautiful ones on the earth. I agree with him.’
‘Yea…’ Victoria mysteriously looked at the stone. ‘So do I.’
‘In two minutes a hopelessly in love with you man comes to you who this morning wanted to make you his obtrusive declaration of love… But he was in a blue funk.’
‘Jesus,’ Vic got upset having heard the demon’s prediction and being doomed, she sank into the chair, firmly holding the gift in her fist.
‘No, it’s not him,’ Kharon answered coldly. ‘I’m waiting for you at home.’
The man hanged up the phone and frowned at the cell in his hand. He felt bad: his body, organized in a different way, had a lack of energy. He needed to eat. He had given too much to the girl having nothing in return. He needed to get power…
He unceremoniously got into someone’s dream. Having seen the most beautiful nature of the Alps and not less beautiful girl skiing, the demon couldn’t help hiding victorious smile. The girl was alone in this wild empty place…
At a magic wand wave Kharon was at her, wearing ski suit and sunglasses, hiding the most part of his face. He held ski poles and his feet were fixed in skis.
Then the stranger looked at him, trying to see his face through the mask, dreaming about the man to take off the mask. The man, after he had read her low and brute thoughts, was slowly taking off the mask with no embarrassment. The rays of the fading away sun were lighting up his white-snow smile. His smile was so languishing, charming and confident in its own perfection.
A second later the girl contemplates his amber eyes at which the light falls so elegantly, making them more attractive. Despite the demon’s face was lighted up by the many thousand years luminary his pupils were still dilated like as if he were in the darkness.
The girl couldn’t tear herself away from the man’s eyes, asked him to touch her. Without a second thought Kharon put the ski poles and in the twinkling of an eye the girl turned out to be in his severe but gentle arms… The demon of lust didn’t need too much to make his victim lose her mind.
He was quiet asking her for permission to get into her soul, promising to give something that she would never be able to forget and, oh, stupid, hyper excited girl was whispering him sacramental yes.
In a second the location was changed. The snow-white and cold Alps faded away, falling like walls and curtains in the theatre, on the horizon. The next unplanned location was moving towards them.
It was a fireplace, blazing with bright fire, pleasantly crackling over the dry branches. The high pile carpet, covered the floor at the fireplace, was so fluffy and soft. It was as white as snow covered a mountaintop.
The ebony floor reflected everything like a mirror…was faceless and empty. The girl was on the pile carpet, hands stretched out. Her eyes were closed, a smile jumped over her lips. A blissful sigh was provoked by the demon’s lips touched beneath her stomach, carefully pulling her panties with his hands…
Suddenly the girl just disappeared leaving the arms empty as if she had never been in. He clinched his fists, the anger captured him. A growl. A wrathful one. Then a powerful hit in the floor and the man turned out to be in reality in his Moscow flat. Kharon understood clearly what had happened and doubtlessly he was mad with it. It sometimes happened… when suddenly a victim woke up due to some external factors.
Kharon was sitting at the table. The grimace of anger and fury froze on his face. He had wasted his energy again and enjoyed the benefits of none.
The man took a deep sigh and was about to immerse into someone else’s dream, but he remembered about Victoria’s friend – Vasilisa. Many times she had sent him different messages. The demon dialled her and in couples of the longest beeps the girl answered the phone.
With no problems they agreed to meet… not far from Vasilisa’s home as the demon knew better than the girl, that in hour there would be no one at home and her mother’s big bed would be in their possession.
Only an obstacle