(c) Egor ELATOMTSEV, May 1998.
NUMBER SEVENTEEN
part four
I stood back and watched a silent black and white movie in which
The beast gave the boy a couple of slaps in the face, from which his head
tossed around like a dandelion caught by a boot. Then, without noticing
resistance and desperate kicking of his legs, he threw what immediately became
such a small body on the trestle bed, belly down, jokingly spread
sides of the arm and fastened them to a handrail welded into the wall. B
two times he tore off his shirt and left his T-shirt on - it’s more fun...
Broke my nails, ripping off my denim shorts - tight belt...
He ran his fingers through his hair and turned his face around to dig into it
a kiss on lips distorted from horror and screaming - standard
foreplay...
And the sound returned to the world, and the colors returned - I found myself
standing next to the boy, holding him by the arm with one hand
hairstyle, face to face... The second hand has already finished unbuttoning
the zipper of the cloak and now hung absurdly in the air. What's happened?
Why did the Beast stop - just give the initiative to me? No!
Something's wrong! I pulled Tony's head towards me, so that our foreheads
and their noses touched, and he himself peered intently into his pupils.
- No need... please...
I didn't listen. In the corners of the eyestears were trembling, ready to shed,
but that was not what interested me. I watched, disconnecting from feelings,
all turning into a look. The world around me slowly swam around
its axis, and then I saw...
A person cannot laugh as much as I laughed. Shaking
His back slid down the wall, and his unbuttoned cloak scattered across the floor.
If a minute of laughter is equal to a kilogram of sour cream, then I have eaten
three-liter jar. The bracelet is indistinct, through the crackling noise and song
about a thousand cornflowers, muttered about having to leave, and was scared
cursed in three languages. Then he fell silent.
A siren wailed far, far away.
I stood up and the boy screamed, but I just touched the ring
handcuffs, and they fell to the floor with a dull clang. Tony too
fell on his side and immediately curled up, huddled in a corner, sobbing. I
walked to the door, kicked the boxes, and opened it. Then
walked to the opposite wall and turned around.
The boy was still sitting on the trestle bed, clasping his knees with his hands.
“Run,” I said, “play.”
He didn't believe it.
- Well, quickly! - I barked. Tony slowly put one foot down
on the floor Then the second one. I turned away.
Like a breeze rustled across the room, and now the swift
bare feet slap on the stairs, up. "It's not too late to catch up" -
A crazy thought came to my mind. Two pushes and I'll catch up... no
more than twenty meters from the building. He will lose half a second,
recoiling from the corpse...The body jerked towards the door, but I
stopped him. He grinned and shook his head. No.
Some of these smug, fat, unbearably free
The Greeks also said this: only a person is truly unhappy,
whose need to do evil grows along with his disgust for
him. Today is probably such a bad day for you, Donald...
When you want to do something that requires an effort of will, it is better
do it right away, without thinking, so as not to struggle with it later
fear. I reached into my breast pocket and pulled out a paller,
black and shiny. The ribbed handle fits comfortably and gently into the
palm. Beautiful toy. Well, well...
I put the barrel to my temple and pulled the trigger. A quiet hum, and
nothing. Oh crap, I keep forgetting to take the safety off.
Several pairs of boots ran past the window. Strong voice
confidently shouted commands.
I clicked the safety, pointed the barrel at the door, pressed
descent It jumped, hit the ears, splashed with brick crumbs and
drops of hot metal. Give, perhaps, the last battle? Perhaps
It’s not worth the risk, maybe they have paralyzers and an order to take me
alive. No, dude, the time for show trials is over.
Boots were already thundering down the stairs. I waited with more
hot trunk to the head. And when a figure flashed through the doorway
camouflage with a tinted helmet glass instead of a face, I told her:
-Ku-ku, - and... he pressed... with difficulty, but he pressed the trigger.
A moment before the world fell to pieces, I once again
I saw in front of me the smiling face of the released boy -
chiseled, with a cute upturned nose and just a hint of fluff
above the upper lip.
With the little Beast in the large, trustingly open children's
eyes...
Share your thoughts about the article