Devil’s Cinema. Crypt of the Seven Angels. Natalie Yacobson

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kid teasing him hiding behind the roadside trees? Daniel decided to check it, but did not find anyone in the thickets. The only children he noticed continued to dance very far away from him. Moreover, they played right on the highway. At any moment, a car can pass and run over them all? It doesn’t matter that the highway running between the small towns is now deserted. What if a truck or a bus emerges from behind a bend? Even any cyclist or motorcyclist can cause irreparable damage to the guys if he runs into them at this late hour. He need to warn them, or better yet, drive them off the road. Daniel was about to shout at them, but the silhouettes of the children’s round dance became more and more ghostly. It seemed that now they will dissolve in the light of the moon.

      Better not to go to them. Suddenly they are all young patients from some lost in the wilderness of a psychiatric asylum. Maybe they even escaped from there. How else to explain such strange behavior, in such a dangerous place, and even at such a late time. And there is, as luck would have it, not a single adult who can explain anything to him. There is not even anyone who could give directions. If the charging on the smartphone had not ended, he would have called a taxi long ago. And so he had to wander along unfamiliar roads, in search of a way to the parking lot where he left his car. Most likely, he went in the wrong direction, because the surrounding places became more and more muffled. No hope of bumping into the settlement ahead. Hence, we must go in the opposite direction.

      And it occurred to him to go to an abandoned cinema for the night looking, without a guide who knew the area and, in the end, even without a navigator. He would have happily hiked back now, but the back road was deserted. And the children’s counting-book was still ringing in my ears. The chant sounded ominous.

      “Stain a tree with blood,

      Let me into this world!”

      It was already a woman’s voice, but it also somewhat resembled a child’s. Some amazing spontaneity. She spoke of blood as something completely natural. It? Who exactly? He did not see anyone, although he looked around. And the voice sounded in his head. Is he hallucinating? There was no need to go alone to such a questionable place. After all, Daniel had heard that people were going crazy after visiting that cinema, so now it was closed, but he still went in and saw the marble angel. The angel signaled him to be silent. Wasn’t it all a hallucination? The two girls were definitely alive, and the invitation to the session, received from them, was still in his pocket, proving that he had not dreamed of meeting them. Flirting with beauties is normal, even in a strange place, but the statue that comes to life is more reminiscent of a nightmare.

      Daniel looked to see if any vehicle would pass along the highway. Someone has to let him down in exchange for an autograph or for a generous payment. Only nobody was in a hurry.

      And the darkness around was deepening. Together with the discharged smartphone, the flashlight, the navigator, the compass, and even the cellular connection went off. It would not be bad to call someone now and ask for help. Although the situation is funny. He is a grown man and suddenly he cannot find his way. This had never happened to him before. And now it was like the devil was leading him astray. And these strange voices from the thickets… He definitely heard voices! Not one, but many.

      “Blood for the roots!”

      “Blood for her!”

      “Blood for the captives!”

      “Blood for those who are imprisoned in the bark!”

      “Your blood!”

      These someone smelled his blood like predators! Why then do they have human voices? But he did not see faces. And nowhere were there even wandering lights about which there are terrible beliefs in the villages, supposedly they lure travelers into swamps or to a cliff.

      So who is talking to him? He hasn’t been drunk for a long time, so that he imagines it. The alcohol weathered away, but even in a drunken state, Daniel had no such illusions. In addition, unlike most movie stars, he never dabbled in drugs or suffered from severe mental disorders in his life. He even had a desire for suicide for quite objective reasons: career failure and debts! He still did not suffer from any painful visions.

      The instinct of self-preservation prompted him to run away from here. But where? All around is an empty highway and dense thickets on its outskirts. By the way, a voice called from the thickets again. Surprised that this time he called by name. As if there was no acting nickname behind which the young man hid for many years, hiding the vicious secrets of his family. A voice clearly pronounced his real baptismal name.

      “Daniel!”

      The children’s round dance had long since disappeared from sight, but the moonlight drew some bizarre signs on the road. Somebody said.

      “You need to cut your veins near a tree or kill someone so that the blood sprinkles the roots. Lightning will flash, gates will open somewhere more beautiful than which you have never seen, and she will come. You want to kneel in front of her too, right? How is everything before you? Remember that we will all come after her. Just let us in!”

      Daniel turned around, jerking to grab the one behind. The feeling was that some teenager stood on tiptoe and could hardly reach his ear to give delusional instructions. Sounds like a cruel joke! But where is the joker himself? Behind Daniel, of course, it was empty. And there is nowhere to hide, except thickets.

      The voices were still calling him. Now from somewhere in the depths of the thickets. It is dangerous to go there. But he turned like a fool. You need to behave like a daredevil at least once in your life. This is reckless, you can fall into a trap or a trap set for hares. Daniel did not think about it because he noticed faces in the dark. A whole host of faces who grimaced, laughed, shouted, writhed in agony or hysteria. And all these faces were carved into the trunk of a huge age-old tree. The ash-colored bark did not need the beams of a flashlight, because it somehow flickered. Daniel could see every detail. The inscriptions embossed on the bottom of the bark read: Memorial to the fall! Monument to the uprising! Monument to the fall! Tree of the fall! House of ashes! Ashes of Alais’s army!

      What does all this mean? Each inscription was located at a short distance from the other, but for some reason the feeling was created that they all mean the same thing.

      The entire trunk along the perimeter was excised by faces, figures, the outlines of wings, which seemed to be about to burst from the bark and flap. Even the large bitches and branches were trimmed in the shape of heads and horned faces. Not a tree, but a whole museum in the forest. Can there be a student of a sculptor or woodcarver who practices away from people on the first material that comes across? Get someone genius enough to make fantasy figures for movies! His woodwork was truly epic.

      Just what kind of tree is this? Elm? Beech? Ash? Or just a group of accreted secular trees? More like the latter. The tree was about the size of a large house. How long does it take to get around it from all sides?

      “Just don’t go around, otherwise you will join us ahead of time.”

      “Better use the blade. You’ve already started cutting yourself!”

      “Finish what you started!”

      “And she will come!”

      Did the faces speak? There is no one besides them! But they are silent! Their lips never seemed to move. Daniel touched one of the faces with his fingers and gasped in pain. The impression was as if a wooden mouth, open either in a scream or in a throat, bit him. There was a smear of ash on

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