Читать книгу Bloody Dawn. Daughter of Dawn - Natalie Yacobson - Страница 11

There was a place similar to the cave in his dream. Such were the sanctuary of the ancient gods. But what were their rites? It happened here the same thing as during his real initiation. Only those gathered were not monks. They were not human in general. These were strange fabulous creatures, only much more frightening. Probably, the creatures look like in hell. And they gathered around him around. They also sang some psalms or spells, someone laughed. Someone stroked his hair with claws. The clock was alive. He heard its call, almost words. It repeated:

«Ferdinand! Ferdinand! Ferdinand!»

And each time his name sounded with different intonations. For the first time it seemed to him as strange.

The blood of his brothers was burst in him, calling for actions, but he was as if constrained. He tried to see the secret symbols on the walls behind the heads of monsters, but saw only bleeding candles.

And he saw her alive, with dark ash wings, closed around a gold head. Even in a dream he became hot from her view, as if the burning torch was brought to the face.

Nothing amazing. For a person. Naturally they fall into faint seeing her. After all, if you believe a legend, it was exactly that Dennitsa looked long before his fall. The most beautiful creation of God should affect.

She amazed, admired and frightened a little. The beautiful face was surprisingly motionless. The golden strands rushed around it like live snakes. She was pale, but lips were red, as if they were in the blood.

Ferdinand did not immediately notice the gigantic black shadow behind her back. As if the curve mirror behind her back reflected instead of the golden creation a black monster.

It reminded him a initiation. The bloody initiation. Nicolette raised her hand in which the sharpened golden sickle flashed.

Sickle is a sign of fate. And dreams are a maze of consciousness.

Ferdinand tried to turn away, but she had already scratched with a sickle on his palm. It splashed blood, hot even in a dream.

And the dream broke off.

Ferdinand saw himself walking across the field, overgrown with some strange weed, almost above his head. The plants were like alive. He went through them with difficulty. The terrible creatures were hiding in them, grasping at his robes, scratching feet, hands and face. There was a sickle in his hand. In the dream, Ferdinand knew clearly that it is necessary to cut with a sickle both his wrists and irrigate the field with his blood. Then the great army of Nicolette will raise from the dust and poisonous thickets.

«You want to do this for me, her beautiful voice seemed to laugh at him.

There was a statue with her face at the end of the field. The same angel before him he was praying in the church. Only here, under overcast skies, the face of an angel had some sinister expression.

The statue waited, not doubting that he will cut his wrists for the sake of it. And in his sleep he was ready to do it. Only one step separated him from committing a suicide in the name of some unknown satanic deity.

He woke up with the feeling that he felt from heaven to earth. And somewhere before the awakening instead of a statue in front of him flashed the face of Nicolette. The beautiful lips breathed fire. And with fire just one word, which he had heard from her before:

«Judas!»

On the moment it seemed to him that this was his name.

Ferdinand woke up from fear. If he had a mirror in his cell, he would have rushed to him. But to keep the mirror in their community was considered vanity. Therefore, he could only feel his face with his fingers. No tangible burns. But she drove into his face with fire.

Only it was in a dream. The dreamIt is capable only to scare. The palm is not cut, the face is not burned, but the feeling of the reality still remains. He remembered that he read in the scripting on prophetic dreams. They just need to interpret and wait for when they come true. True, to interpret dreams is too difficult. This is a whole science.

In addition, Ferdinand already knew that some dreams come true directly. He dreamed of a really existing devil. That was not an allegory.

And the worst thing is that he felt something to the devil something that he had not to feel.

It’s time to atone for his sins by prayer! He almost jumped up with a wretched bed. Somewhere was lying around the candle’s grinding. Lighting the wick, he saw her face in the flame outbreak again. This is called puzzling. It is impossible to succumb to it. It is necessary to repent, you need to pray, you need to drive an obsessive image of a beautiful devil from yourself.

Ferdinand was confident in his durability. He himself should be unshakable, like a stone to truly serve his God. He will have to be expelled from consciousness all temptations, no matter how hard it was.

It seemed that the walls themselves whisper something to him, and the flowers on the ceiling crawling like live snakes.

Ferdinand moved to the chapel in his familiar path, confidently bypassing the complex maze of the old building. Their monastery was similar to the fortress, available only for birds. Arched windows and high ceilings trample them. Despite the deep night, Ferdinand heard the rustling of wings and sometimes bird’s squeaks. It seemed to be in words.