The Chess

The thin threads were wound turn by turn, layer by layer, onto a wooden spindle covered with runes. A symbol of the transience of time and fate. The inability to bring back what has already happened, the need to work only with what has not happened yet. A harsh sequence and incredible randomness that creeps into the complex pattern of reality. The strongest weapon and the faithful working tool of the old blind Norns. At least he was. Charlotte, sitting in a temporary dungeon, continued to learn her yarn almost continuously, with a smile on her lips. The thread of fate in her hands did not have even a drop of the inescapable power that it acquired under the skillful fingers of the old northern witches, but in order to lift the veil of the mystery of the future, this insignificant particle was more than enough. To act even when being severely limited in the ability to interact with reality. Use the minimum, to the maximum. Faithful spiders are just insects in the eyes of people. They have neither great power nor deadly poison. All they can do is make nets and catch other small bugs in them. They looked very much like their mistress in her current position. But the real superiority of these creatures is that they are underestimated, no matter how paradoxical it may sound. After all, sometimes a small speck of dust is enough to break the spine of a mighty bison, and the lightest flap of a butterfly's wings is enough to cause a storm. “Baby Jackie," — the demoness cooed, passing a thin thread through her fingers. — “You'll soon be all alone because of your own stupidity, and no one will stand up for you when I get out of here. If you were smarter and could draw at least some conclusions, everything would be different.” The spindle was spinning faster and faster. The thin thread warmed up between her fingers, leaving reddish burns on skin. Charlotte tried to look further, a couple more steps ahead. Reality seemed shaky at that moment, becoming inaccurate and blurred, because in order for it to become real, too many very specific things had to happen. Too many little things have to affect each other. Very bad and gloomy. “Little Danny... You're so angry at them now,” — the smile disappeared from the girl's pale, bloodless lips, and her fingers twirled the thread more and more carelessly. — “I understand your rage, but rules are rules. Even if you stop being a Fenton, if you're a hunter and you act like an executioner, I'll come after you... Whoever you're hunting.” The demoness sighed wearily and lowered her arms. The thread loosened, and the spindle spun like a top at her feet, confusing the thread that had become too ugly and uneven. But it's not a big deal. Everything can be fixed, even if it takes more time and effort to untangle this ugly skein and not tighten the knots on the yarn. Wiggling her fingers, the girl looked at her own hands, bringing them as close to her eyes as possible. Rough calluses formed on the pads of her fingers, small wounds clogged with yarn particles and burns from the thread that she passed through her fingers too quickly. The old Norns would have scolded her for being so careless about yarn. For being so tactless about the future. Lately, she had been thinking about her grandmothers more often than before, but it was difficult to say whether it was banal boredom or remnants of human sentimentality. The top of the spindle fell at her feet with a thud, finally coming to a stop. It will be difficult to untangle the thread. To do this, she will need all her concentration, but first... She needed to rest first.

***

Objects without clear boundaries. A world without clear outlines. Vlad hadn't been able to identify new things without glasses or lenses for almost twenty years only by touch, by smell, or at least by getting as close as possible, relying solely on all his past experience. He didn't like new things for that very reason. He didn't like the Amity Park either. This place was too alien, even if it was sometimes friendlier than the others. It's a pity not this time. After getting out of bed, the man first felt for the glasses case on the bedside table. It was still an unpleasant change of contact lenses, but now his eyes felt really exhausted from the bright summer sun last day and from a long time spent without sleep. It was difficult to remove lenses because of how dry the mucous membrane of the eyes was, and if he continue to use them today, his already poor eyesight will only get worse after such indelicate treatment. The Westons were a hospitable southern clan, but unfortunately, the unusually soft pillows and mattress didn't do this night more comfortable. Stretching, Vlad crunched his spine with pleasure. There was a lot planned for today, and the clock was already showing seven in the morning. So it would be indecent to delay the rise any further. After cleaning himself up, Vlad quietly left the guest room provided to him, and on the way to the hall he looked at the children. Danny was making him uneasy after everything that had happened yesterday. Maybe he himself had gotten used to various kinds of excesses over so many years that his senses were slightly dulled, but this was clearly impossible to say about the boy. Even though he had been rotten for a long time in the company of his own family's quirks, he might even have gotten used to the idea that at some point he could very likely become a guinea pig for his parents and end his earthly journey there. But what happened to poor Catherine is clearly not the same. The teenagers fell asleep side by side on the same bed. Fatigue clearly got the better of his anxiety, and Danny passed out in an embrace with one of the decorative pillows, covered with a thin shawl of the gothess, who rested her head on his shoulder. The black fabric flower on the girl's head got tangled with her uncombed hair dyed black. Both teenagers used Wes's back as a pillow, and his arm hanging over the edge of the bed, from which fell out some kind of book with a pinkish cover, a mountain landscape and a flock of black birds, painted as if in watercolor. Tucker was the only one who slept in a relatively adequate position, wearing a scarlet beret over his face instead of a night mask. Vlad smiled slightly, looking at the guys. It might take them a while to forget what had happened, but given what he'd seen, there probably wouldn't be any reason to worry in the near future. At least with friends like that, a guy will be less likely to do stupid things when wouldn't left alone with his pain. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed a glow not far from the door. All the teenagers' phones were plugged into sockets on the bedside table. On Danny's battered smartphone with a broken screen, a part of the message from the contact “Mom” was displayed: “I'm waiting at home. We need to talk...” “You're going to have a great start to the day, Danny,” Vlad thought, involuntarily rolling his eyes and quietly closing the door behind him. A couple of hunters who intervened in their affairs not only confused all the cards, but also added a lot of additional problems, and just trying to comprehend their scale made his head hurt. And to make matters worse, it would be necessary to involve Daniel in order to solve all this, whom it would be well worth not touching for at least another day or two. Time, however, starting this morning, is too valuable a resource for them. And unfortunately, it was impossible to spend it just like that. Mrs. Weston was sitting on the couch in the living room with a cup of coffee in her hands. A small metal coffee pot stood on a ceramic marmite. The pleasant aroma of bitter coffee, sweet dried berries and alder coals spread in the room, which was already a little more attuned to the working mood and helped the mind to start waking up somehow. The woman's long copper curls were hastily gathered into a bun at the back of her head, and purple marks on her pale lips indicated that she had consumed not only coffee in the morning, but also some blood. ― Good morning, Mr. Masters, — she greeted, without looking up from the morning newspaper. ― I hope you slept well today. — More or less, considering everything that happened, — Vlad held onto the banister for the first time in a long time as he descended the stairs. Because of the distortion caused by the glasses and the fact that he didn't wear them often, the steps under his feet seemed to take on some kind of too curved shape. However, the thought of wearing them more often to get used to it made he feel sick. — While you were sleeping, I sent one of my husbands to our man at the local police department, and the other to your poorhouse to check the statements of the staff, so to speak, — Masters could only notice dark circles under the woman's eyes as he got closer. She obviously hadn't slept well today, and her excessive cheerfulness seemed like an alarming sign against this background. ― I hope you don't mind such an initiative. — Not at all, ― Vlad sank onto the soft sofa, leaning back against the hard back with a sigh, — Considering what happened, it's better to be safe. But I'd like to know what else you're up to, Isabella. ― Nothing special, honestly, ― the woman put down the newspaper and began to fill a small porcelain cup for Masters with fragrant coffee. — My thoughts are mostly on how to bring the elder Fenton to justice without hurting your protégé too much. The boy got hurt anyway, and given that the official authorities will have to be involved in the case, in addition to the crowd of abducted, disoriented and sick circus performers, they will also pay attention to the poor girl who suffered at the hands of hunters. ― I had my own plans in this regard, but first I would like to talk to Madeline Fenton and try to win her over to our side, at least for the sake of the boy, ― the hot coffee pleasantly burned the tip of my tongue, leaving a pleasant bitterness and a slight taste of roasted almonds in his mouth. The glasses partially fogged up from the hot steam, which made Masters sigh in exasperation. — But first, I'll listen to your suggestions. — As far as I know, Jack Fenton is currently in the city hospital, after being knocked out by Danny, — Isabella tiredly rubbed her eyes, tucking a red lock of hair behind her ear. —One of our police officers is on duty outside his room. He reported that he was already suspected of causing grievous bodily harm, but Catherine hasn't yet come to her senses, and her father cannot give any testimony, since he himself is not aware of what happened. So there's only one option, his wife pointed on he. If you want to talk to her, now is the time before she starts feeling sorry for this man. But there are bigger problems. ― One of many. Let's start with the simpler ones for warming up, — Vlad remarked, glancing at the grandfather clock nearby and figuring out where to start the day. ― The hunters saw you, and even in this form, ― Isabella looked at Vlad point-blank, non-verbally letting him know how much he personally screwed up at that moment. — It's a themed circus, ― Vlad shrugged. Invigorating coffee and a slight feeling of hunger made the brain work more actively. ― I suggest we stick to the version that I was there as a spectator, but in character, just like Danny and young Miss Manson. We met immediately after the performance, and I, being a person with a sensitive heart and a broad soul, gave the kids a ride to their sick friend's house, who really needed their company for support. ― Do you have any idea how the press will react? — Isabella couldn't help but chuckle, covering her fanged mouth with the morning newspaper. ― I can already imagine these headlines. "Vladislav Masters is the dark lord of Wisconsin." — Everyone has their own quirks, ― Vlad spread his hands. ― I have the right to a harmless and legal hobby, and I have always been a big fan of the work of Stoker and Lovecraft. And if we go develop this version, then we can say that after the show we had to return to this tent, for some little thing forgotten by a teenager, like a phone. This may explain what we were doing there at such a time and our strange appearance, which, in the semi-darkness, at night in a specific environment, one local fool mistook for something supernatural and because of this began to do his usual nonsense. — Your castle will be swarmed by vulture journalists, — Isabella remarked. ― And Wisconsin will be renamed Wallachia. ― These are problems for my future. And against the background of the current ones, let's be honest, they fade, — Vlad took another sip of hot coffee, enjoying the way it warms the insides of his stomach. ― But this excuse will only work as long as we find out what's wrong with the Fenton arrow, why it affected the girl so much and how to present it so as not to cause unnecessary noise. — Yeah. But that leads to a second problem, — Isabella reminded him. — There are still bits of Danny's skin on it. We can withhold this evidence from the police for now, referring to the fact that we ourselves want to analyze it in your laboratory. Maybe you'll tell them something like you want to help the girl and your people needs study this thing. But when the case is fully launched, it will still have to be handed over to the authorities. Fenton will probably want to see the evidence against him when the case goes to trial. And it will reach him, with or without my participation. Vlad thought about it, frowning straight ahead. If it may still be possible to defend himself in court in this way, then life will become very sad for Danny in this case. Crazy parents who almost killed their own son and injured his friend already sound like a stigma for most of their lives. But he couldn't see any other way to explain how the boy's skin and flesh ended up on the crossbow bolt. And then there was that outburst of emotion from Danny that night... It would be impossible for the Fentons to pass everything off as a terrible misunderstanding without revealing the boy. — I need to think about it, and still talk to Madeline, ― Vlad sighed, involuntarily listening to the soft rustle of footsteps on the second floor. — Well, that's up to you, — Isabella concluded. ― But I'm afraid there's not much time for negotiations. — Good morning... ― a hoarse voice on the verge of audibility sounded from the direction of the stairs, forcing Vlad to pay attention to Danny. The teenager tried to clear his throat, but apparently it only made it worse. After yesterday's outburst, his vocal cords are likely to be unavailable for a while. Whatever it is, he obviously won't be able to repeat such an experience soon, if he expresses such a desire at all.

***

Maddy still had a terrible headache. Even through a light nap, she could feel this constant painful throbbing inside her skull. Whatever the ghostly undead had done at night, she didn't want to experience it again. “We don't want any trouble,” — the voice with a slight otherworldly echo sounded familiar, even if the speech was slightly distorted and seemed a little more hissing than an ordinary human because of the excessively long fangs. The sharp claws of this creature and the scarlet eyes without a single hint of a pupil involuntarily burned into her memory. If this thing hadn't covered her ears in time, she probably would have met the same fate as Jack. Complete knockout and damaged hearing. ― Mom, get up, — Jess's voice sounded like it was coming from a distance, slowly bringing Maddie back to reality. — I made us coffee. ― Thank you, honey, ― the woman awkwardly sat down on the sofa of the living room. The blanket she was using to cover herself had slipped to the floor, her neck hurt terribly from the uncomfortable position, and her leg, which was still recovering from the fracture, was terribly numb. — Danny showed up? — He texted me that he'd be back soon, but he wasn't answering his phone, — Jess sat down on the very edge of the couch, clutching her favorite cup in her hands tighter. ― Do you think something serious happened? Maddy wanted to just say yes and end the explanation there, simply because she didn't know how to describe everything that had happened that night. Especially with all the unpleasant details. The girl's decomposing feet, splashes of dark blood from the wounds opening on the skin, and painful screams still caused a slight attack of nausea. This was probably the reason why she told the officers who arrived at the scene everything. Almost all. — I'm afraid it's going to take a long time to explain, — Maddy sighed, setting her untouched cup on the coffee table. — Let's wait for your brother and I... The speech was interrupted in mid-sentence by a key clicking in the keyhole. Danny showed up just as they were talking about him. Disheveled, in clothes from someone else's shoulder and with a very bandage on his arm, soaked in pale blood. Maddie was so shocked by the sight of her son that she didn't immediately notice Masters coming in right after him. ― Danny, what happened? — Jess exclaimed in horror, jumping up from the couch. The boy did not answer, continuing to stare at his family like a wolf, pursing his bitten lips. There was a mixture of fear and disgust in his eyes, the last combination any parent would want to see. The teenager didn't even try to explain himself, walking briskly to the second floor. To his room. ― Danny! ― Maddie wanted to run after the boy, just as his sister had done. But getting tangled in a fallen blanket, she only managed to almost fall. Vlad caught her in time, preventing her from colliding with the floor. — He needs to be alone for a while, — the man looked a little better. Dark circles under his eyes and red-rimmed eyes under thin silver-rimmed glasses clearly indicated that he had slept catastrophically little today. — I need to talk to you alone. About what happened to Daniel. Vlad closed the front door behind him, casually straightening a bleached lock of hair that had escaped from a low-gathered ponytail. He spoke rather slowly, obviously choosing his words much more carefully than usual, and this made her uneasy. Masters had always seemed to her like a man from whose lips any lie or bad news could slip easily and casually, presented as something trivial. He was like this at the alumni meeting, at all their business negotiations on patents, at a scientific conference and in communication with journalists. But not this time. — Where is Jack now? — Vlad asked, gesturing for the woman to sit down. ― At the hospital, ― Maddie replied shortly, without going into details, and headed for the kitchen. — What happened to Danny? The man silently took out his phone from the inside pocket of his jacket and handed it to Maddy. A photo of a high-tech crossbow bolt she knew all too well was open on the screen, with traces of dark, caked blood and something viscous and greenish. The shaft was badly smeared, but the brand of Fentons that Jack put on almost every one of his designs was still clearly visible. At the sight of this picture, the woman's legs gave way and she slowly sank into a chair, not taking her eyes off the photo. A bad feeling crept into the collar of her jumpsuit, breaking out in a cold sweat on back. — Maddy, do you know this thing? — Vlad's voice sounded monotonous and somehow artificial. — Where did you get this? ― she felt her throat go dry when Vlad took the smartphone from her hands and sat down at the round dining table next to her. ― I'll start a little from afar, ― Vlad still carefully chose his expressions. ― There is a medical facility in this city connected to a branch of one of my laboratories, and a patient with this thing in her body was admitted there last night. My staff will have to find out how much the current condition of the victim is related to what he was injured with, but since she has Jack's mark on her, I thought it would probably be worth visiting you first, — Vlad looked her straight in the eye and from this an ever―increasing horror settled in his heart. ― I cannot disclose all the details now for legal reasons, unfortunately. But I'm afraid that if I act by all the rules, it will be even worse and not only for you personally. She understood perfectly well what Vlad meant by saying all this. It doesn't take a genius to understand how such a situation can turn out for her and the children because of Jack's reckless act, motivated solely by a thirst to exterminate all otherworldly undead. The girl who was hit by her husband last night didn't look any older than her son and clearly posed no threat to deserve what happened to her, whoever she was and whatever anomaly in her body reacted to ghost guns in a similar way. — How is she? — The words were coming out of Maddy's mouth with more difficulty than answering the police's questions. — She's in an induced coma at the moment, but the prognosis is not encouraging, — Maddie felt her heart grow cold with every word Vlad said. ― The arm that was hit by this shell could not be saved, both legs have necrosis, so I'm afraid they won't be saved either. Danny arrived at the hospital with her, probably because of nerves grabbed the shaft of an arrow without thinking. I don't know exactly what kind of stuffing is embedded in this bolt, but the metal of the shaft was so hot that it stuck to his hand. Maddy clutched her head, resting her elbows on the countertop. Her heart was beating so fast, sending blood rushing through her body, unable to get enough oxygen, that Maddy felt as if she would soon lose consciousness. Until that moment, she hadn't seen the full scale of what had happened, but now... If they had previously been visited by the relevant services for complaints from neighbors, then this time the charges will be much more serious than noise at the wrong time. Now it was obvious what a mess they were all in. She could have lost her children after that. A bright scarlet drop fell on the table. All the woman's attention was focused on her, her perfect round shape, the microscopic splashes and the warm glare of the lamps. It seems that in the dark surface she could see her own reflection in all the shades of scarlet. ― Oh Gods, Maddy, — Vlad's voice sounded like it was coming from under water. She slowly looked up at him, feeling a metallic taste on her lips. Masters hastily took out a red handkerchief from his breast pocket and applied it to her face. As if half asleep, she took hold of the cool, silky fabric while the man filled a glass of cold water for her. — It's my fault, — she muttered, — Jack was nervous yesterday. I shouldn't have let him leave the house in this state, — the glass of the glass rattled against her teeth as she tried to take a sip to calm her shattered nerves a little. — You're whiter than chalk, ― Vlad gently touched her wrist, checking her pulse, — I'll call a doctor for you. — Don't. I'll be fine, — she grabbed his hand as he reached for the phone. Everything in her head was confused and jumbled. Her thoughts were racing like a bunch of fleas on a street dog, and I couldn't concentrate on any of them. ― You said Danny was delivered with that girl... how... Do you know how it happened? ― As I said, unfortunately, I can't tell you all the details right now. — Vlad looked really sincere now. For once, his facial expressions didn't seem as artificial as usual. ― Ms. Isabella Weston, the head of the local community in which the girl's family consisted, intends to give this case a go, and I'm afraid you won't like anything you hear. Maddy nodded dejectedly in response. If the most famous lawyer in the state has already taken up the case, their family's affairs will soon become very sad for a variety of reasons. It was now quite obvious why Danny had behaved the way he had when he entered the house. She could imagine in all colors how the boy resisted, not wanting to return. — But I'd like to hear your version, Maddy, — Vlad's hand, dry and cool, covered her fingers. ― Danny didn't really say anything because he was too shocked. His friends weren't present at all, so you probably know a lot more than I do at the moment. He squeezed her cold fingers a little harder, looking straight into her eyes. Whatever this person is really up to, and whatever she tells him, it won't make the overall situation any better or worse. What Jack did put their whole family in a situation of absurd zugzwang in which correct decisions simply did not exist. As soon as a woman imagined a crossbow bolt being ripped off from her boy's hand with part of hes skin, her stomach twisted with an unpleasant feeling. And considering that he preferred to carry out this most unpleasant procedure in the company of strangers, without informing her, Jack, or even his sister, it was not worth counting on the boy to talk to her in the near future. He wouldn't tell her anything until he was at least a little bit away. ― I... don't even know where to start, ― Maddie said, nervously running her fingers through her hair. ― You said that Jack was “nervous.” Maybe we should start with that? — Vlad adjusted his glasses, which obviously felt uncomfortable and unusual, but at least he didn't look as callous in them as at any other time, for some reason. ― We had a fight that evening, ― if it was difficult to admit something like that in front of an adult her age, then how would she tell the children about it? Maddy felt her neck go wet and cold with excitement. ― I started a conversation that wasn't the most pleasant for him, and he didn't take it very well. ― Is something threatening you from his side? — Vlad was looking somewhere slightly above her eyes. On the bangs. At what's hidden underneath. It took Maddie a couple of seconds to realize that this man was looking at exactly the point where her possessed husband's blow had stunned her last Samhain. A good memory, attentiveness, and a sharp mind clearly quickly put two and two together, drawing very definite conclusions. From the outside, it probably looked as bad as possible and clearly did Jack no credit, especially now. ― No, no, not in that sense. He's just... — Maddie didn't know how best to formulate this thought without making her husband look even worse. ― I just didn't take this conversation well. I was emotional too, and I probably said too much. And as luck would have it, it was that evening that our sensors detected ectoplasmic activity in the city. Hunting has always been a way for Jack to let off steam. I was against it, but I didn't stop him... I didn't think it could get any worse. That this could happen. — Maddy, Jack is an adult, not a child. It's not for you to take responsibility for his actions and emotions that he can't control, — the glare on Vlad's glasses turned purple, and the distortion of the lenses made his dark blue eyes seem bigger and more expressive. Maddy looked away, wiping a drop of blood off the table with the man's handkerchief. After what happened last night, her blood pressure had obviously jumped too much due to the release of ghost energy. ― What happened after that? — Vlad looked at her carefully, as if trying to figure out from her facial expressions whether she was telling the truth or lying about something. Or maybe everything was simpler and this look, which she defined as “strange”, appeared because of his poor eyesight and lack of habit of constantly wearing glasses? Maddy sighed. From the kitchen, a part of the stairs to the second floor could be seen and the sound of footsteps could be heard, which Vlad also noticed. Jess, being curious, obviously decided to try her luck and try to eavesdrop on their conversation. Nervously tugging at the tassel of her braid, she went down the stairs on tiptoe, pressing herself against the wall as if she really hoped to merge with it at some point. However, when she faced her mother's gaze, who sent her back upstairs with a short gesture, she obediently retreated, afraid to disobey. It was clearly not worth it for the children to be present at the conversations now. ― Usually such adventures did not end with anything, ― the woman continued to look towards the stairs, deliberately lowering the tone of her voice just in case. ― We were just returning home with a couple of samples for analysis, at best, which did not always happen. We usually had nothing left on our hands but a speeding ticket, but this time things went wrong long before this outing, — Maddie nervously straightened her hair. ― I don't know if you're aware or not, but a themed circus came to town, and Jack, after seeing a poster with vampires, decided that these artists should be real vampires. I won't even say for what reason, it's like he's been a little off since last Samhain. Yesterday, he decided that the epicenter of paranormal activity must necessarily be in this circus, although all the readings indicated the opposite. It was already late. I was sincerely sure that the maximum trouble we could face was a couple of artists who were scared by our appearance on a midnight smoke break. And I didn't stop him, — Maddie took her hand away from Vlad, starting to twist the wedding ring on her ring finger. ― Although I should have done it. ― Getting in the way of a man with a gun is, of course, a brave act. But reckless, — Masters said. His gaze rested on a simple gold ring for just a moment. ― I'm afraid that in this story, in that case, you would simply take the place of the victim. In Maddie's memory, the subsequent events of the previous evening were imprinted with a vivid emotional spot. She saw these strange creatures right in front of her, which she initially simply mistook for costumed artists who had not had time to wash off their makeup. But looked closer, she noticed how brightly their eyes were burning in the dark. Especially the guy with the white hair. It was as if his pupils caught the slightest light, turning into two reflective discs that almost merged in color with the iris. The wild bestial gaze and sharp fangs with claws were in stark contrast to their behavior, human and familiar. Even noble to some extent. Nevertheless, to shield someone obviously younger and probably weaker from a potential threat was an act worthy of, if not admiration, then at least respect. A creature with bluish skin and red eyes stood between her and the children, trying to resolve everything peacefully. It's just a pity that they misidentified the threat to themselves. The otherworldly howl of the white-haired boy who had knocked her and Jack out so hard sounded more desperate than evil. The guy held the injured girl in his arms, not knowing how to help her. The girl he was helping to walk, and he was obviously very worried about her condition before that. — There were two other creatures, ― Maddy said slowly. Something about this story caused her anxiety much deeper than before, albeit less vivid. ― I don't know who they were, and it does not matter. They obviously weren't dangerous and wouldn't have attacked if it hadn't been for Jack. One of them knocked us out pretty badly. My nose is still bleeding, as you can see, — Maddie tried to grin, but it came out too nervously and fake. ― When I woke up, the police were already at the scene, but there was no trace of these two. Jack was taken to the hospital with suspected damage to his eardrum... I tried to told him that guns weren't safe. That it cannot be used. — Jack was stubborn before, ― Vlad sighed loudly. ― With or without you, he would have done everything his own way anyway, it seems to me. She looked up at Vlad again. His face remained unreadable. It was hard to say for sure what he was thinking at that moment in time. However, the crazy thought is that if she had listened to him with great attention at university, if they had not interrupted communication for almost twenty years and had not had such a stupid fight, then it is likely that this man would not have been such a big mystery to her. — I'd like to help, — she began cautiously. ― And you in the analysis of weapons and that girl in the restoration of justice. I know I sound like a terrible wife right now, but that's what feels right to me at the moment. Vlad thought about her words. For a brief moment, behind his glasses, there was that strange gleam in his eyes that she remembered from her university days. Previously, it seemed to her that he was connected precisely with the desire to please the interlocutor, but maybe it wasn't that at all? — It would probably help to solve the issues with the least casualties, — he stated. Looking past her, the man seemed to be trying to look into his own thoughts. Check his plans. ― Perhaps, if not with the girl's father yet, then at least negotiations can be started with Isabella Weston, even if an unpleasant police visit cannot be avoided. But they're pretty private people and they'll want to make sure they can trust you. Will you be ready for this? It was a reasonable question and a fair reaction from a small community that obviously didn't like outsiders very much. This whole situation was familiar to Maddie, after all, her hometown was very similar in this, strangers were disliked there for many reasons. She nodded in agreement to Vlad's words, firmly deciding that she should try, if not to solve the problem, then at least not to make it worse.

***

― I know that I lost my temper yesterday. I know that I exposed myself in front of my parents with this. And I foolishly grabbed an arrow. Just tell her everything and get it over with. — Danny, I'm afraid you're right now... — Too angry? On edge? I don't know what I'm talking about? — That's not exactly what I meant. ― Now my friend is in a coma with only one remaining whole limb and it's not a fact that she'll wake up. My family is falling apart, and my father will definitely be imprisoned after such an outburst. Whether my secret will be safe at the same time is no longer so important. — It's about your mother. It's not going to be any easier for her right now than it is for you. Vlad's words silenced the teenager. Frowning, he turned to the car window and looked out at the familiar streets of Mira Park, gently cradling his injured arm. The skin under the bandages was protected by a special film from burns, the ghost's regeneration had most likely already done most of the work, but the wound site still hurt incredibly, and yellowish traces of blood had appeared on the bandage overnight. — Do what you think is necessary, — Danny muttered, leaning his forehead against the cool glass.

***

Streams of icy water cooled his head. Boy's heart beat more calmly when the temperature dropped below a certain mark, but complete relaxation was hampered by the fear of soaking the bandage on his arm, which hid a fresh potential scar. It was annoyingly difficult. Jess was sitting outside the bathroom door. The ghost could literally hear her heartbeat over the splashing of water and the hum of increasing pain in her injured limb, which had to be held aloft. He probably couldn't even enter his own bedroom with a calm soul. Charlotte and her spiders were definitely waiting for him to say: “I warned you.” His father will surely say that he did everything only to protect people from vile spirits and the undead. Mom will most likely try to smooth out the corners and for this she will probably keep silent about her desire to get a divorce until the situation gets better. And from now on, she will never get better for all of them. Jess will take up her psychological crap trying to analyze what is happening. And Aunt Alice's house will become their temporary home while their parents deal with each other, and they can forget about communicating with friends. Danny knew in advance almost everything he could hear from others, what they could do or take, and this only made it more disgusting in his soul. The teenager took a mouthful of water and spat it out almost immediately, the injured vocal cords enjoyed the pleasant sensation. He had a terrible sore throat after yesterday's outburst. It was as if he had attended a concert of his favorite band, which he sang along to all night. He definitely wasn't planning on repeating this in the near future. At least for the sake of not being left without a voice at all. It was incredibly powerful and, to some extent, probably even effective, but at the same time it was too exhausting and painful. The sensation of cool streams of water almost disappeared in a small area of the body. On the sides, near the waist, closer to the back, there was a part of the skin that never fully healed after it was burned to ashes by the ghost deflector. While staying with Vlad in a mountain chalet, Danny thought that the redness of the skin left on his stomach was the only thing that threatened him and an otherworldly force would completely heal any of his wounds, but reality had other plans. After his father's development burned off his skin, flesh, and part of his internal organs, the scars still remained, making it clear that Jack's anti-ghost weapon was more effective than it looked at first glance. Rough areas of skin on the back lost their former sensitivity and began to feel frighteningly alien, although visually the burn marks did not seem very noticeable. A slight thickening at the edges and a couple of pinkish stripes, closer to the center of the former wound. Turning off the water, Danny ran his fingers over the scar on his right side and leaned his forehead against the cold wall tile of the shower. In an attempt to cope with random emotions, he clenched his injured hand into a fist, pulling himself back too late after a flash of pain. After drying himself properly with a towel, he reached for clean clothes. His own this time. Smelling pleasantly of cloth and just a little bit of paint, with which they applied a print with the logo of his favorite musical group, and nothing more that could irritate the sensitive sense of smell of a Ghost. Unfortunately, the pleasant little things this morning could not brighten up what was going to happen sooner or later. “― ... This was an important part of the experiment. ― This is our son!... In the reports, you referred to him as a 'Subject,' as if he were some kind of expendable item that could be easily replaced!“ ― Dad always put paranormal hunting and research above everything else, ― Danny muttered to himself. A fragment of yesterday's parents' argument surfaced in my memory by itself. — Hunting and science are more valuable to him than you, Ghost. The mirror reflected a tired face with bags under his eyes, swollen and somewhat bruised. Last night, he behaved unwisely, allowing the possessed Catherine to push the Ghost into a primitive trap, but unlike her father's developments, at least she did not leave any traces on his face, which, according to sensations, began to corrode from poisonous flowers for evil spirits. Danny took a closer look to make sure. A whitish old frisbee impact mark that his father had thrown too hard during their vacation together a couple of years ago. A scar crossing his eyebrow left after one of the first major scuffles with school bullies. But there is nothing new, except for signs of fatigue and a small pimple on the neck under the ear. There was a knock on the bathroom door. — Danny, how are you? — Jess's voice sounded worried and, as it seemed to the teenager, almost tearful. — I'm fine, ― he replied, coughing slightly. His voice was slowly starting to return, although it was still quite noticeably hoarse. All that remained was to hope that by the evening everything would be in order, and not to repeat such tricks so recklessly and impulsively. — I don't know what happened to you and is happening, but it bothers me, — Danny listened to his sister's voice, folding someone else's clothes more carefully. ― Lately, you've been constantly getting involved in something and coming home injured. You might think that no one notices, but they don't. And today, not only did you come home again, not as whole as you left, but our parents also got involved in something. I'm the only one who doesn't understand what's going on with all of you. Danny opened the bathroom door too abruptly, hitting his sister with the door handle. With a yelp, the girl jumped away from the door, rubbing her bruised elbow. — Sorry, — the boy said softly, barely looking at his sister. Jess was never out of the loop. And to some extent, Danny hoped that it would stay that way. It is better not to know some details of their family, it is better to be ignorant about the work of their parents. He himself would like to be unaware of a lot of things, yesterday's quarrel and his mother's wishes in particular. That way he would have more faith in a better future. — Dad's in the hospital. Mom says his hearing is damaged, but I do not know the details. I don't know what led to this, either, — Jess hugged herself by the shoulders, looking into her brother's eyes with the hope of answers. ― I don't want to be on the sidelines when something so serious is happening to us. — There's something it's better not to know about for as long as possible, — Danny felt a pang of guilt over his father's condition. — You'll regret it when you get the answers. The teenager disappeared through the door into the room, locking it behind him, and sank to the floor. Things fell out of his hands, along with another thermos with a ghost trapped inside. Another problem that will definitely need to be solved in yet unknown ways. However, despite everything, he felt neither sadness, despair, nor the desire to cry. All emotions were replaced by endless fatigue and the desire to get some more sleep before taking on a job that no one else in this house or in this city would do. ― And no one's even going to thank us for that, — Danny muttered irritably on the verge of hearing. The phone in her jeans pocket vibrated slightly due to the incoming notification. The message was from Sam: “Have you reached home yet? How are you feeling?” Sometimes a friend was overly compassionate, but this time the standard question did not cause irritation and a desire to answer it sarcastically. “Not really. I sent my father to the hospital along the way. My sister is going crazy. And I need to talk to my mom,” — he replied. “Do you need support?” “I need someone to listen while I swear,” — being a quiet boy at school, and in every sense the second child at home, he was not used to crying. His father would have scolded him for being so soft, because boys don't cry, and his mother would have said that he was already too old to react so sharply. His sister would start a useless psychoanalysis, and his classmates would just laugh. He wouldn't even want to pin something so disappointing on his friends. Vlad was the only exception to this system at the moment, and Danny himself couldn't say exactly why. Perhaps initially it was because Vlad was an outsider, someone with whom he did not plan to cross paths often, which means it was not necessary to restrain emotions. They wouldn't have met for another year or two anyway. Then it was more from the desperate thought that the face was already lost, so there was no point in pretending to be someone else. And yesterday... Danny shook his head. A couple of drops of water fell from the tips of her short bangs onto the phone screen. In a sense, he had forgotten how to whine fully. He didn't need any moral help or a guard at the door while he was sleeping. However, the desire to just speak out was something else, a new and not particularly understandable feeling that he had not experienced before. “My ears are at your service.” Sam's text made him smile. She might have been a girl with terribly radioactive cockroaches in her head, but she was still a good friend.

***

Jack woke up when the bright sun was clearly shining behind the white blinds of the hospital room. His head was buzzing terribly, and the sounds around were muffled and somehow flat. His fingers came across a headband that completely covered his left ear. — What have these evil spirits done to me? ― thoughts were difficult for the man. He was trying to reconstruct in his head the sequence of events that had brought him here, but it was coming out frankly badly. The ghostly thing did a good job of hitting him. “But I said from the very beginning that this circus is a real breeding ground for these creatures!” He thought, as he looked around the place he found himself in. The ward was designed for one person. The windows are tightly curtained. In the far corner there was a TV, which hung on the wall almost directly under the ceiling. An additional door opposite the bed most likely led to a shower and toilet. Several wires were connected to the arm, measuring breathing and pulse. The wall clock showed eleven o'clock when the door to the ward clicked, opening the lock, and a nurse entered with a small breakfast cart. — Are you awake yet, Mr. Fenton? — She sounded calm and even smiled, unlike the guy in the police uniform who was standing outside the door and watching Jack intently. Who don't even blinked. ― Fortunately for myself and my loved ones, — the man wanted to sound cheerful, friendly, and loud as always, but because of the pain in his head and the fact that he could only hear his own voice in one ear, it didn't work out very well. — Don't strain yourself and don't scream, please, — the nurse began to lay out plastic plates of food and a drink glass filled with orange juice on the table by the bed, apparently. As well as a small jar of medicines and water to wash them down. ― Please take them immediately after breakfast. ― I will, — Jack replied with a big smile as the nurse pulled a small and flimsy―looking table over to him. You probably couldn't even put your elbows on him. A plate of porridge with milk, obviously still recognized by doctors as a good breakfast for some reason, and a second with pancakes even without syrup. Such boredom must have looked and tasted horribly tasteless, but Jack felt too hungry to be picky. However, a small question still remained. There was a fork to the left of the bowl of porridge, and a spoon to the right, but something was still missing. — Excuse me, but where's the knife? — Jack asked the nurse as she was already leaving the room, pushing a cart with a squeaky wheel in front of her. ― It's not provided, — she replied shortly, still smiling. The policeman on the other side of the open door came closer, not taking his eyes off Jack. — But how am I going to eat pancakes without a knife? ― the man asked. Is the city hospital so poorly funded that they even try to save on devices here? Or is this another wish list of environmentalists who want the impossible and clean up the planet from garbage, who in this way tried to force others to save plastic? The nurse did not answer the question. She just left the room in silence, picking up her pace. An officer closed the door behind her. Clicking the lock again is distinguishable and clear even for a man's damaged hearing. Locking him inside. “They probably just don't want that aggressive scum to get to me,” — Jack thought, starting to somehow try to tear off a piece of the hard pancake so as not to stuff it into his mouth entirely. But it came out frankly badly and very untidy. The ghost guns worked just fine. Maddy shouldn't have worried about him hitting an ordinary person. This would never happen, because he has a flair for these ectoplasmic creatures. He's able to tell the difference between undead and ordinary people, no matter what Maddy thinks. Thinking about his wife made him think of another oddity. She wasn't around, and there could only be two explanations for this: she was also knocked out by a ghost and therefore she was simply put in another room, and the second is that she is simply not allowed to see him yet. But it's strange, because she's his wife. A person with the primary right to visit the patient, in addition to the parents. The one who, as it seemed to him, should have been there at such a moment. "Couldn't she just not come?" — Jack thought, chewing on a hard pancake with concentration.

***

Jess didn't understand anything. Completely. Mom's strange behavior. An overly serious father. An alarm signal. Danny with a bandaged arm. And then there's this Masters. The Wisconsin Nosferatu behaved next to her brother as if he had known him for a long time and was, if not his friend, then a very good acquaintance. Her brother doesn't even let his parents pat him on the hair sometimes, but he endured this guy's hand so calmly on his shoulder. Did they really get that close after that terrible event in Colorado? Danny refused to make contact. Mom and Mr. Masters were talking about something downstairs. She really wanted to understand what it was about in order to have at least a minimal idea of what was happening, but as soon as she reached the middle of the stairs, all conversations stopped, and her mother motioned for her to go to her room. She hadn't been commanded like this since she was ten years old! But it was scary to disobey something. The wall separating her room from her brother was cold. So he turned on the air conditioner at full power again and turned his personal space into a kind of giant refrigerator, without fear of a potential cold or another scandal with his parents about the waste of electricity. She walked in circles around the room, not knowing what to think anymore. All this uncertainty was driving her crazy. — Dear? ― mom knocked on the door of the room, forcing the girl to open immediately with a tiny hope for answers. The woman looked broken. Whatever she and Masters were talking about, this man had clearly drained her of her last strength, like a true energy vampire. — I need to talk to you and Danny about something. ― And you're going to explain everything? — Jess asked, looking out into the hallway. Danny, dressed in his usual clothes, disappeared down the stairs in the company of a gloomy type of Masters. ― Everything you and your brother needed to know yesterday, — Maddy sounded more serious than usual. It seemed that every word was coming to her with difficulty. — Let's go into the living room. Maybe we can have a bite for one thing, — she tried to smile, but it just came out disgusting and fake. Mom's hand on her shoulder felt unusually heavy as they walked down the hall together towards the stairs. Obviously, nothing good could be expected from this conversation, but Jess didn't want to sit in ignorance any longer, pretending that everything was fine. ― ... and we'll replace your bandaj in one go, — the girl only heard the end of Masters' phrase addressed to Danny. The boy was rubbing the bandages on his hand, which were already pretty dirty, and Jess once again felt an unpleasant feeling in her stomach at the sight of her brother's injured limb. She really didn't want to imagine what was hidden behind the bandages, but a vivid picture popped up in her head by itself and in the most painful variation. ― Okay, ― the teenager replied somewhat too colorlessly, looking up at the man. ― Nice, ― Masters smiled much more naturally than Mom. It seemed that for this person, either it was not very clear at all what was going on in their family at the moment, or what was happening for some reason gave him pleasure. And at the very thought of the second option, Jess gritted her teeth. — I'll leave you soon,― Mr. Masters said to Maddy, adjusting the frames of his glasses. — I'll see you around six, if you don't change your mind. — I won't change my mind, ― Mom replied firmly, looking the man straight in the eye. The situation seemed terribly tense and nervous to Jess. She kept glancing from Danny, who was closing the door behind Masters, to her mother, almost tripping in the middle of the stairs. There were cups of tea and a small plate of goodies on the new glass table in the living room. It was a banal formality that no one really cared about right now. The boy picked up his cup, immediately starting to dilute the hot drink with cold milk. However, light wisps of steam were still rising from the surface of the drink. ― So what did you want to tell us about? — Jess asked impatiently, sitting on the very edge of the armchair and completely ignoring everything their mother had prepared for them. ― The thing is... — Mom's voice trembled slightly, making her pause and clear her throat. — He and his dad are getting a divorce, — Danny said without batting an eyebrow. He didn't even take his eyes off the cup, which he blew lightly on before taking a small sip and not burning his tongue. Because of his words, mom froze, she even seemed to stop breathing, and Jess herself choked on air. — What are you saying? ― the girl blurted out indignantly, almost jumping up from her chair to properly shake her brother for his talkativeness. ― The same as a year ago, ― Danny did not change his face for a second, continuing to stare at the hot cup in his hands. He didn't even bother to look at her, which was starting to annoy her. — Stop talking nonsense, — Jess shifted to the very edge of the chair, leaning over the table towards her brother. ― You think that everything in our family is so bad, but it's completely not objective. Yes, we can seem strange to others. Yes, all of us, not just our parents, are impulsive to one degree or another, and we can express our opinions too loudly, turning to raised tones. But that's just our temperament, not a reason for your anxiety to make such wild guesses. ― Your brother's right, honey, ― Maddie interrupted her daughter's fiery speech. Her mother's words sounded like a bolt from the blue to the girl. A frightening and now inescapable catastrophe. My brother's self-fulfilling prophecy, which made her want to kill him. — What? — Jess felt her back go cold. She gripped the arms of the chair so tightly that it took her a moment to notice how numb her overly tense fingers were. — Unfortunately, Danny's right, — Maddy repeated her thought in slightly different words. ― Your father, of course, does not want this, but I will not be able to live with him the same way as before. There are certain reasons for my decision. Jess tensed, felt the upholstery of the chair creak under her fingernails. The unfortunate fabric, which she clutched too tightly, clearly would not have survived this ordeal if the girl had not let go of her, feeling a sudden weakness. Parents fought a lot. Bickering on Christmas Eve had long been something of a tradition, so she hadn't paid attention to the content of these screams for a long time, unlike her brother. Who all this time was not just listening to them as background noise, but actually analyzing the words spoken by adults to each other. — What other reasons? — Jess's voice seemed to slow down a little. — This is what I wanted to talk to you about initially, ― Maddie chose her words carefully and thoughtfully, automatically twirling the wedding ring on her ring finger. ― The fact is that I have reason to believe that Jack may be dangerous to you. — With what?! — Jess flared up again, as if she were a bonfire that had just been doused with a liter of gasoline. — It's Dad. Yes, he is a little clumsy and because of this he can often do something that will cause pain, but these are accidents. That's no reason to talk about him like that. It can only be dangerous for the rats you're experimenting on. Tell her Danny. Her brother was silent. Gloomily looking up from his cup, he looked at his sister so expressively that the girl involuntarily shuddered. He was in no hurry to confirm her words. — The fact that he accidentally hurt you a couple of times doesn't mean anything, — Jess couldn't believe that her brother had just tacitly agreed with her mother's words. With this terrible and serious accusation against the father. ―And even that time when he hit you in the face with a frisbee plate doesn't mean anything. It was an accident. You know that yourself. For Jess, her father had always been the warmest and kindest person in the world, who would never intentionally hurt her. He called her his princess, constantly told her how much he loved both her and her mother, so what could have gone wrong? What could make Mom and Danny say that about him now, and even without his participation? — Danny, you know what I mean, right? ― mom put down her cup and turned to her brother, who again looked anywhere but at them, nodding gloomily in response to the question. — I won't talk about it if you don't want to, and I won't force you to, but I'm afraid Jess needs to know about what happened to your friend tonight. The girl felt her mouth go dry. His tongue seemed to stick to the roof of his mouth as Danny nodded in response to his mother's words and spoke on his own. — My father shot one of my friends, Jess, with a new experimental ghost hunting weapon last night, — his brother's voice sounded hollow, without emotion. — But ghost―hunting weapons don't hurt people, — Jess muttered, realizing deep down how stupid that excuse sounded. ― Dad always talked about it himself. ― I'm afraid that its developments are not completely safe for all people. And not every one of them is harmless in itself to ordinary physical objects, dear, — Maddie said, looking terribly tired and unhappy. ― The whole situation did not show Jack from the most adequate side. The girl suffered quite a lot and I'm afraid there's not much I could have done to justify it... Even if I wanted to. Jess felt helpless. Having learned most of what she wanted, having received explanations for the oddities she had been waiting for, she was more lost than ever. Danny, her little brother, was right when he said that she would regret getting all the answers. The reality that her mom and Danny were trying to show her seemed like some kind of made-up fairy tale. A horror story to scare her or make an evil joke, but no one was going to laugh. Both of them were as serious as they had never been before. — I need to think about it, ― Jess muttered, getting up from her chair. ―Darling, I... — mom wanted to say something else, but her daughter interrupted her. — I just need to think about it, ― she repeated louder and harder, heading for the second floor. To my room, obviously, to read my diaries and think about what I might have missed so critically important. ― You probably want to be alone for now, honey, — Maddie said sadly to her son when Jess disappeared upstairs. ― Think about it, digest what happened. But if you want to talk... — I want to, — the teenager blurted out sharply, looking up at his mother. ― I should have done it a long time ago. Tell you everything. Not what happened in childhood, but more important things. He handed his mother a cup of hot tea with milk, the surface of which was quickly covered with a crust of ice right in front of the woman's eyes.

***

The taste of cold blood was not very expressive, but it was saturated enough to continue working. However, a sufficient amount of physical strength did not compensate for the almost complete lack of moral strength. This is a disappointing discovery for Vlad, who has not experienced anything like this for the second decade after the incident with the prototype portal at the university, which divided his life into before and after. A man used to ignore such personal discomfort, not to notice it in the stream of endless work tasks that often did not require sincere emotional involvement, unless they concerned the clan, which happened quite rarely. Living by the system “Help yourself,” Vlad was used to controlling every event that affected him at least a little, so now, at this particular moment, allowing Daniel to act independently and potentially influence his life with his decisions, he was experiencing something similar to stress. Yes, the boy proved yesterday that he is quite capable of making quite good decisions on his own. Yes, objectively he was extremely sane for his age. But everything has a limit! The man's office was in perfect order. There wasn't a single extra item left on the table. A fountain pen with a square inkwell was located on the right hand and lay strictly parallel to one of the edges of the table. The pencils in the top drawer lay in a neat row, from the more refined to the less refined, from left to right. All the folders with documents and projects were on the shelves, sorted by color, date, importance, and alphabet. Perhaps someone more stereotypically normal would have called such a desire for order a nervous breakdown of a person with hypercontrol, but Vlad himself preferred to treat it as a relatively useful habit that helps to put in order not only thoughts, but also the workplace. This morning, the weakest, most crumbling, and oldest member of the former Gothic troupe left this world, right in front of the policewoman who interviewed him. On the one hand, the imminent death of someone his age was already a matter of time. Ninety-seven years old, for vampires who have had more human blood in their bodies for a long time, is a respectable age, albeit still insufficient to pass away. But his failing health and everything he'd been through had clearly finished him off. The disease deprived him of his nose, several fingers, and severely damaged not only his skin, but also his internal organs. The outcome was obvious to him and even logical to some extent. But... ―Mr. Masters, ― Lie quietly entered the office, straightening her hair gathered into a thick and rather loose braid. The personal assistant was one of his clan members. In every sense of the word, people could be trusted with difficult tasks, of which there are now too many. — Do you have a minute? Glancing at the assistant, Masters was already ready to hear the news about another new resident of the morgue, hoping to some extent that it would not be Daniel's girlfriend. The boy will probably feel guilty about this, even if it's not actually true. The death of a loved one will destroy him completely. — Yes, quite, — Masters replied with a sigh, throwing the empty blood donation bag into a special container for medical waste. — Do we have a new body? — Fortunately, no, — Leah said, clutching several new medical records to her chest. ― The condition of the remaining ones is more or less stable at the moment. One of our new one wants to talk to you. Lydia. She says it's about the artifact that was used to keep them under control and that it's important, but her English is just terrible. — It shouldn't have been a problem for us, — Vlad straightened his tie and the lapels of his double―breasted jacket, leaving the office accompanied by his assistant. — In theory yes, but her thoughts and images are also strange, — Liye was clearly confused. ― Unlike anything that exists in our reality at this moment in time. It's hard for me to even guess what she means by showing them. A rather strange thought-image actually flashed into the assistant's mind. It looks more like a shot from a fantasy series mixed with the work of Hans Giger. A woman with snow-white skin, jet-black hair and blood-red lips, as if she were the prototype of the very Snow White known to everyone today. Gentle and romantic, she moved smoothly, giving the complete impression that she was literally floating a couple of inches off the floor. The folds of the skirts of her dress with its incredibly long train hardly disturbed her footsteps. The high waistband and the many folds on the stomach created the illusion of constant pregnancy, which was so fashionable around the fifteenth century. Shaved eyebrows made a smooth forehead incredibly high, and black eyes with glowing red pupils expressive. Her hair, arranged in the shape of two horns, was covered with a richly embroidered gold and pearl escoffion and the thinnest gauze fabric, trailing a long train behind her back. The stranger approached something that looked like a tree, woven from many tubes of some unknown black substance. There were no leaves on this tree, but there were many “fruits” hanging on the branches, pulsating like hearts from the blood filling them. Fingers with long claws carefully plucked a perfectly round living “fruit”, to which the woman immediately pressed her lips. Sinking her long fangs into the thin membrane, she began to absorb the bloody contents of the “fruit” with undisguised pleasure, allowing a scarlet trickle to roll down from the corner of her lips to her chin. It really was something, not only not from their time, but also obviously not from their reality. It was easier to imagine a tree with bloody fruits in a world of endless abnormal outbreaks called “infiltration” by the locals, but not here. — Sir? — Liye's voice brought Vlad out of his thoughts. ― Is this familiar to you? — No. But more information from our guest might help, — Masters rubbed his chin thoughtfully. ― Did Lydia specify exactly how this thought-image is connected with the artifact? — She said it was the most direct, but it's hard to understand her, — Lia admitted honestly. ― That's why she asked to meet with you personally. I was very insistent on it, I would even say. She is sure that you must surely understand everything. — Well, I'm intrigued, — Vlad smiled slightly at his own thoughts. If he understood what Leah had told him correctly, then at least an attempt to explore the artifact would be worth the effort. ― What is her condition? ― He clarified. ― Stable. At least it doesn't pose a threat to you, — Liye opened one of the cards to check the data. ― After she was fed two servings of cloned blood, she began to feel much better. The tissue regeneration process has started, albeit slowly. Her mental abilities are weaker than those of others, apparently due to frequent outbreaks of resistance to the power of the artifact. She doesn't have any abilities comparable to yours, but she is very physically developed. According to the first results of the tests that we received, it is very close to you, even the strain of the disease is identical, but... I don't understand why there is such a huge difference in all other parameters. ― I'm sure we'll figure it out in the process, ― Vlad adjusted his glasses, which were constantly irritatingly sliding down the tip of his nose. ― And maybe something else, much more interesting.