Читать книгу Demon mentor. Crypt of the Seven Angels - Natalie Yacobson - Страница 9

They seemed to be sleeping in a crypt: cold, silent, empty. But so beautiful. The sight of their icy splendor hurt the eyes. Even in the darkness they shone ghostly. Grave-white, immersed in eternal slumber, insensitive, indifferent and at the same time some kind of threatening.

Blaise hadn’t come to see them in over a week. The last time she cried sobbing and prayed in despair to them, they did not answer. They never answered. At least to her. And from this she felt the most deprived.

The stone had to come to life and come down from the pedestal, the wings had to open wide and open for her alone the crushing marble embrace, as for all Rosiers. She was no longer even jealous of all those who had been in this embrace before her, and there were countless of them. All in due time they accepted their gifts and their death here. But Blaise was suddenly redundant. Those who were supposed to take care of her, this time only remained silent. They seemed to be afraid to answer her. As if they were ashamed of her impulses, her passion, her prayers. They seemed to hide inside their marble larvae. From her. From a simple young fragile girl. They couldn’t be afraid of her. They were able to crush the whole universe. Blaise alone, unarmed with nothing but her stubborn nature, could harm them.

Besides, she always adored them. From early childhood. Since she remembered herself. Relatives instilled in her that they should be worshiped, and she tried as best she could. Now it’s time for disappointment. But she still believed hard.

You just need to light the lamp at the entrance, pronounce their secret names one by one, from the first angel to the last, and wait. She waited. But nothing happened.

Blaise wondered if it might be too early. Perhaps it is on her eighteenth birthday, and not on the seventeenth, the power that connects her with them will have to awaken. For this, she needed the watch that she asked Damian. She wanted to measure every minute until that fateful moment when they came to life. They will revive for her alone, because no more of Rosier’s descendants have become. The angels simply had no choice. Either they will accept it, or they will lose their last link with this world. But they were silent.

And she began to give in to despair again.

Although now she had Damian. And he knew about them. It’s so good when there is someone with whom you can share your secret. Her secret did not frighten him. And he, too, knew that her prayers were in vain. The marble remained motionless and Blaise waited.

For others, they would have come to life long ago and crushed all their enemies. But not for her.

Blaise persisted in believing that these were not just family legends. One had only to come to the crypt, light the lamp, look into the beautiful frightening faces and imagine the death of their ill-wishers, and in the morning everything would have happened by itself. They died at the hands of unknown persons, as at the hands of God himself, crushed by his marble messengers.

Blaise saw a strangled Hugh, Neil burned alive, Angelo mutilated, Gerald and Thomas mutilated. She thought how nice it would be to rip open Alistair’s fat belly, and then destroy that parish where he deceived and destroyed people. And yes, Damian was absolutely right, she would be very pleased to know that all the descendants of these villains are also eradicated. All filth must be ripped out at the root, so that it does not give new shoots. A curse on everyone. They wished death to all the relatives of their enemies. She was even going to bring it herself. Only the angels were in no hurry to help her.

They slowly drove her crazy with their appearance, their silence, their emptiness. Inside the space they surrounded, it was as if space existed, but Blaise was not allowed into it. She remained on her own. And they just watched her, embarrassing her by the fact that they are. Instead of helping, they even interfered with something, suppressed her will, her mind.

Damian, whom she thought was insane, showed an unexpectedly sharp mind, telling her to forget about them. However, she continued to visit them as before. Only now her prayers were no longer as passionate as before. She began to realize that they were unlikely to ever respond.

It was worth calling them idols and leaving here. Only that would mean lying to herself, because for her they always meant more than just statues. They really contained something like space inside them, only she could not penetrate there.

She had a lot of questions for them. How could they admit what happened? Why didn’t they protect her parents and her brother? And why is she the only one now alive? Was something special assigned to her? Some kind of mission? Revenge? Or were the higher powers just curious to see how several damned families would destroy each other? They already knew the answer to everything in advance, but Blaise did not know it.

She remembered that her brother came here at night. It was he who told her that the statues were alive. Now one might think that his impressions were just a consequence of some kind of hallucinations or highs. But how then to explain the marks that remained on his body in the morning, as if the statues touched him, leaving bruises and burns. He said something about sex with marble angels. Blaise wanted to laugh, but she couldn’t. Well, they chose him first. Then she had to become the second. Especially now that he’s gone. It was only after his death that there was some amazing calm in the crypt.

Are the statues trying to honor the memory of the dead? As if one living descendant was not left at all. As if there were no survivors of those who should be avenged.

Blaise did not understand their silence. And when she looked up into the marble faces, a lonely tear rolled down her cheek. They were so unshakable. The shadow of the winged figures fell on her, and the glare of the lamp did not seem to reach here. These beautiful motionless figures were supposed to inspire fear. And yet she was not afraid next to them. She was in pain. It hurts that they don’t want to see her problems. And apparently they do not want her herself.

She would never have the courage to admit that they simply do not exist. They did exist. They stood in a marble semicircle in the dark, shone with regularity and did not answer her prayers. Not one of all her prayers. And it seemed to her that they simply did not want to answer.