Thank you my friend.

You are welcome.

You know a bunch of them. Megathor, the arch villain of the eighties. He is now a gigantic old man, he still has his signature wide plump mustache. But his long black hairs are gone. Next to him is Crimelia, his old right-hand and lover. She is surprisingly beautiful for a sixty year old woman. Tall and graceful, her bright fiery hazel eyes are now filled with sadness and grief.

Twins, Sin and Vice a row behind them. Both in identical black suits. Hard to believe those two calm and mild mannered old men used to be the most evil villains of their time. There are more but you don't remember their names. In fact there are more villains, former enemies of your grandpa at the funeral than there are colleagues or government officials.

At the reception, Megathor and Crimelia approach you. Both are wearing formal dresses. Meghthor is a neck and shoulder taller than anyone you ever saw. His broad shoulders fell in sorrow: -hello young man. Are you Jeff's grandson?

-Yes. I'm Mike.

-So you are Mike. He spoke highly of you. I reckon you know us?

-Few people don't Mr Megathor.

-Call me Bob please. Those days are long gone. And this is Carmen. You might know her as Crimelia.

-Please bobby. You know I hate that name. Your grandpa was the best man I have ever met. And I met the whole bunch of them. Fought many. Many were stronger, smarter, none had his character.

-Can I ask what are you doing here? No disrespect but weren't you guys enemies?

Bob: Well we were enemies. In the battlefield. We fought for different causes. It has been so long I don't remember what for. We didn't do bad things for the fun of it. We did it because we thought it was the right thing to do. You see, right and wrong are not always so clear. So pure. They are, more complex than that. And Jeff knew that.

Carmen: He never judged us. He was always ready to hear our point of view. He was what's our society today is missing. A good enemy. And without good enemies, there can't be true friendship either.

Bob: We had a son. He was six when he died of cancer. God...It still hurts. Jeff was there for us. He wept with us, comforted us, hell he even managed the funeral service himself because I was drunk all the times .What a man he was.
Speaking of drinks. Anyone want a refill?

And he proceeds to find another drink.

Carmen: He is already drunk. Didn't saw him this messed up in a long time. Jeff was like an older brother to him. Once Bob went to Soviet Russia to rescue Jeff from the Soviet prison. Another time Jeff almost got prosecuted for letting Bob walk away against orders to kill him.

When Bob came back, Twins are with him. Bob is holding two glasses full of drink in his massive hands.

-Sin: Our condolences son.

-Vice: Your grandpa was the reason our life turned around.

-Sin: We beat him more times than he did, you knew? We won most battles against him. But lost all the wars.

Vice: He used to say "The true win is not to win the fight, but to win the heart of the enemy."

-Sin: And he did. We came back to college thanks to him. He paid our tuition fee. We still kept making trouble. But he never gave up. Wish our own father was like him.

Vice takes another sip from his whisky. Everyone remained silent for some times. You wonder how your funeral would be? Will your enemies mourn your departure? Your grandpa...you felt a sudden rush of sadness. A drop of tear drops from your eyes.

Carmen rised her glass: To Jeff. A great friend and even a better enemy. May his soul be in peace.

-"To Jeff." Everyone replied. You drink your whisky. It makes your inside burn. You feel sad. Not for your grandpa. He lived a great life. But for the world, a world which needs such a man more than ever.

Eldritch gods just don't mix well with romance. At least I never saw that. Maybe Lovecraft is just too good.

"What the fuck is wrong with you?" Villain asked in horror.

"Me? I am hungry. You want some? Have a few more cheese wheels! It will help you regain your stamina." Hero answered. As he took another bite from a sausage.

"How can you devour so many things so fast? How big is your stomach?"

"I dunno, it feels like just a click. And it is gone."

"And where, how did you carry so many foods around? What about your health? Don't you have high cholesterol or something?"

"Nah. Healthy as a cow. I will live long enough to eradicate your kind from this world!"

The villain dropped his weapon. "I am not gonna fight you anymore. I mean we have our differences. But dude, you need professional help. Like real shrinks or doctors and stuff. And why bother fighting? You gonna die of heart attack in a few years anyway."

The Hero was angry: "Hey, where do you think you are going. Hey! Are you calling me fat? So you are both a piece of shit and a body shamer? Hey. Don't leave me here alone! Come fight me! I have mead. We can drink after the fight."

He kept yelling as the villain left the battlefield.

God what a cluster fuck. There were at least 10 errors. This is what happens when you write and don't bother to proofread. Sorry to you and anybody else who invested time reading it.

Oh shit. Will correct it.

Someone knocks the door.

"Who is it?"

"I am the hero, please open up!"

"What do you want? I am retired. I had enough getting beaten by you and your team"

"I just want to talk. Please open up. I brought drinks!"

"What?"

The villain opens the door. The hero is standing there. Holding a pack of his favorite beers in his hands. Trying hard to give the villain a warm smile.

"What are you doing here? Can't a bad guy enjoy his retirement without you do-gooders bothering him?"

"Aren't you gonna invite your old friend inside?"

"Last time you guys almost killed me. Now we are friends?" The villain takes a look around. He does not trust the hero but he is curious to know what it is all about.

"Okay. Come inside."

A few minutes later, they are sitting at the table, watching football and drinking beers. They talk about roaring gas prices, inflation and the good old days when housing was affordable.

Then the hero changed the subject:

"We want you back!"

"Who is we?"

"Me and my team."

"Why is that? Don't you remember why I retired? You made fun of me. You Told me I am incompetent and stupid. You abused me emotionally. Now you want me back?"

"Well, you were kinda clumsy, let's be honest, but I admit we went too far." He continued: "The thing is, the new villain is just too good. He is ruthless, has zero red lines. Only uses practical plans. Not complex stupid ones, and he hates monologues, so far he killed three other heros. We thought he would play with them. Give us time. But he just killed them instantly. And he live streamed their death on social media."

The villain laughed: "Wow. You guys are fucked."

"You were fun. Kind hearted. As much as a villain could be. And had your rules. Like giving us time to rescue our friends, making cool but impractical plans, making last minute mistakes. you know. You did your shit, we did ours and the life went on."

"So to put it plainly, you are facing an unstoppable, ruthless, strong and smart villain and you want me back. Because I am fallible, indecisive, weak and stupid?"

"I would use nicer words.... but technically yes." The hero answered.

"Get the fuck out of my house!" The villain shouted.

"Wait...I swear we will not make fun of you, please. We will try not to beat you up too much."

"Get out!"

"We will pay handsomely. We will be nicer to you. No...no ..."

The villain throw the hero out of his house and shut the door. The hero kept talking from behind the door. There was a can of unopened beer on the table. The villain sat on the sofa, turned the television volume up, popped open the can and took a big sip. It was cold and delightful. Like revenge.

The invisible world

"No, I told you just to wait, no, I don't want it." The man sped through the park. Faceless figures everywhere around him. "Okay, call me when it is done. Goodbye." It was a hot summer day and he was sweating hard inside his black suit. He found a bench and sat down to catch his breath while browsing his phone. He hated the summer. Burning sun, children's noises. Constant sweating. All of them.

Then something dropped on his phone. A bird's faeces. "God damnit" Someone laughed. He turned his face towards the origin of the voice. It was a girl, she was wearing a sports top, exposing a well built body, and had an open book sitting on her lap. "Sorry, your face, it was just too funny." "Glad one of us is enjoying this." "Here" she gave him a napkin. "Thank you." he replied.

"You are exercising and reading?" The man asked. "Two things I love the most." The man took another look at the girl. Deep black eyes, Golden hair, inviting lips, and a killer body. She was actually very beautiful.

"What are you reading?" "Cathedral" "Carver? You have a great taste!" "Wow, you've read it?" "You know, I wasn't always a boring suit." He paused: "Before I started working in finance, I wanted to be a writer. " "What happened?" The girl was smiling. It was as if she actually sympathized with him. "Reality happened. I figured I was not that good. At least not enough to make a living out of it." "Did you even try?" The man looked down. They both knew the answer.

The bench they were sitting on was one of the four benches around a small square, at the center of a small square there was a statue of a blindfolded man. Offering his eyes in his hands. "It is beautiful isn't it? Beautiful and scary" the girl asked pointing at the figure. The man answered: "Yes it is. somehow I never noticed it." "They say the artist himself was blind. He is offering his eyes so others can see what he can't." The girl replied.

The man looked at the girl. She smiled. The sun was illuminating her hair like a golden crown. Children were laughing nearby. "I know it might look strange, but would you be interested in sitting here with me this same time tomorrow?" He asked. "I would like it!" She answered. He was fixated on her face, her lips, her body, he didn't even realize his phone was ringing non-stop the whole time. "It is Sarah by the way." "I'm Philip, and I can swear you just made the world a more beautiful place."

"There is a hidden room under the Whitehouse. It is called the "hidden throne". Douglas D Jackson. Conspiracy theorist

Title: The hidden throne

Mr. President, a young journalist wants to meet you. He says it is a matter of national security. And he can only trust you with that information.

"Is he a democrat??" President asked.

I believe so. I made a quick back ground check. He has worked for several prominent progressive news outlets. He works as an independent investigative journalist now. He is working on threats of right wing militias, corporate corruption, that sort of thing.

-Okay, tell him to meet me here at 5pm.

At exactly 5pm, someone knocked on the door of the oval office.

-come inside. President said.

A young man enters the office. It is obvious that he has tried to dress properly on short notice. He looks anxious and agitated.

-Mr president

-Mr Bradley I assume?

-Yes sir. I'm thomi Bradley. An investigative journalist from New York. I think I found something serious. I can't trust anyone but you sir. Please hear me out.

-Im here for that same reason son. What troubles you?

-Please don't laugh at me. But I have reasons to believe our last president and Richard Nixon are the same person!!

-What??

-Sir I know it sounds stupid. But I have documented a mountain of evidence all supporting my claim.

-Son, They have borned from different mothers. You know! And one of them is very very dead!

-Sir I checked the records. And there are no birth certificates for any of them. As a matter of fact even close relatives don't remember their mothers being pregnant with them. They both just appeared out of nowhere at a certain age. Here... Also no one actually saw the corpse of Nixon.

(He opens a case he was carrying. It is full of photos, documents and newspaper articles. )

-Okay Mr president, just look at this pictures. He puts several pictures of the two former presidents on the table.

• What am I looking at?

-Can you see the scars on their wrist? (He puts two more photos on the table.) These are magnified images of those two scars. They are the same. Also here is a very small tattoo on their backs. Both of them have the same weird tattoo. I tried to find out what the text reads but I couldn't. Here are writing samples from both of them. I tried to compare their fingerprints but someone has deleted their prints from the federal database. Maybe they knew I was looking for it.

-Okay son. What do you say we should do? Let's imagine I believe you. Where is your hard proof? All your evidence is at best circumstantial. We are gonna be an international laughing stock with such a claim without bulletproof evidence.

-Sir. I have reasons to believe the whole republican leadership was behind this. Also CIA, FBI, NSA. And who knows what else. Also I think I know where we should start to look.

-I am listening.

-There is a room under the Whitehouse. I think they have hidden some proof in there.

-Are you talking about that conspiracy theory? What was the name? Red throne?

-Hidden throne sir.

-Son, I visited that room and it is as empty as nuclear war threats.

-Can we have a look? Maybe there is something hidden in that room?

-God forgive me I should not be doing this but my meeting for 6pm is cancelled. Maybe we can go take a look at that mysterious room of yours. (he laughed.) I still think you are crazy for the record. But to be frank it is getting interesting.

******End of part one. Part two will be ready in a few hours. **"""

"Shit they are moving slow!"

A female barbarian says. Her "armor" exposing her huge cleavage and her muscular thigh are mostly naked.

"They are indeed Tatiana. Not gonna be a match for my mighty hammer. " A dwarf in full plate answers. His hammer is two times his size. And engraved with magic runes. They are standing at the top of a hill, looking at their future battleground. Several miles away, ten of thousands of enemy soldiers advancing in several lines towards them.

A tall and well built middle aged man approaches them. They both bow to him. "Lord Arthur! My dwarfs are ready to kick some arses." "And my brave sisters are at your will as well!" "Okay then. Here is the plan." Arthur continues. "Your dwarfs charge the front Bughdan. My cavalry charges their flank while they are busy dealing with you. And Tatiana's amazons rain them with arrows. Let's give them hell!"

Soon they march. Dwarfs walk till they are several hundred meters from the enemy line then charge into them. To their surprise the line in front of them just keeps walking. Holding their spears in front of them. Dwarfs have to stop their charge before getting impaled by spear.

"What do we do now?" one dwarf asks. "Smash them!" Another replied. But dwarves are too short to reach the enemy and so is their maces and axes. They tried to charge several times to no avail . And the enemy was moving forward slowly. One dwarf tries to swing his hammer into them but just hits a few spears. Few dwarves rush into their doom. Others are just going backwards step by step. Soon they see no other way but to retreat. Bughdan encourages them to attack "come on you cowards, charge" but as he tried to swing his hammer the weight of the hammer breaks his balance and he falls. "Fuck this useless shit is heavy".

Arthur and his knights are leading a thusend heavy cavalry into enemy flank. But sadly the enemy is not blind and can see them advancing. And even if they were charging from cover their voice would ruin the element of surprise. So when they rich enemy flank, "the flank" is ready for them. And they are holding "spears!" Arthur shouts. "Don't charge into spears!" But the battlefield is way too noisy for an entire cavalry regiment to hear their leader. His horsemen rush into spears, against horses better judgement. And die an agonizing death. For some reason horses are not good at "breaking enemy lines" head on.

Meanwhile Tatiana and her amazons are shooting arrows non stop. They are all beautiful, strong, clean and wear make-ups. Some of them shoot several arrows at once but strangely enough none of those arrows fly far. Enemy archers are also shooting at them. And those big exposed cleavages and naked thighs are proving to be a nice target. Many of them bleed to death.

Enemy is advancing slow but steady. And soon Arthur and his warlords has no choice but to flee. Decades later when asked "what was the reason for your defeat", Arthur replied: we were backstabbed, by the reality!"

A little so it does not hurt. Any considerate vampire would.

Not sure. An eternal life is maybe better than dying of old age.

People underestimate how hard vampire's life is. We have nothing to do in the morning (good luck if you are having insomnia) we have to constantly watch out for garlic, silver , UV light, you name it.

Garlic is specially bothersome. If you live in Italy or the middle east or Mexico you are literally gonna starve to death. Every single human blood is filled with that crap.

And like all that shit was not enough we had to be invited into a house to attack a human. No one is wondering in parks at midnight anymore. And I prefer garlic to blood of a junkie.

And contrary to popular beliefs not all of us are hot sexy charmers. I am an introvert and I hate talking to people.

It all blew up when I went to this old woman's house last week. Stop judging me. I was starving and no one would invite an ugly 6 feet giant into their house.

I saw an old woman watching outside from window. She saw me and waved her hands. So I waved back. Before I know she was at the front door. "Come inside honey! I have pie and hot tea. And it's cold outside."

I thought it was a win-win situation. She was alone and I was hungry. So I came inside. She poured me a cup of tea and served it with a slice of freshly backed apple pie. We talked a little. I didn't want to hurt her so I asked her to turn around. For some reason she was smiling. Then I fed.

So far so good I thought. But it all went to hell from there. Usually my victims were throwing me out of the building. You see, there is something people don't know. We also need permission to exit their house. Yah I know it sounds stupid. Like what idiot would come up with that?

It is usually not that bad though. When you are attacked by something the first thing you say is "leave me alone" or "get out of my house" or something like that. Not this time!

Old hag actually enjoyed her blood being sucked out. I was like : honey I need to go. It will be morning soon. you might die. And she was like: no, I am sure you are still hungry. And giving away some blood is good for my health. So I fed and fed and before you know I was asleep on the couch.

When I woke up it was already morning. I begged her to let me go. Threatened her, sucked her blood without anesthetic, did other evil things but she would not let me go. I stayed at her home for six bloody nights.

So I finally did what I had to! I turned her! Now she is my sidekick and blood child. her name is Greta. Other vampires are laughing at me, "what a hot new blood you got there loser!" But I don't mind. She is annoying as hell and she smells. But hey. You gotta do what you gotta do to survive.

You are welcome my friend.

Edited. It is 5 am where I live. Hope you guys excuse me for possible typos and grammar errors. It will get much better by a few edits.

Your contract is about Ryan. A 45 year old Irish man. "He was a very cool brother, he was the best, always got my back. Drinking and brawling with me every night at the pub. Now he is lame as shit" His brother Patrick tells you.

"He is pissing wine all of the sudden. Literal wine! And last night I saw him glowing like the sun itself. I tell you mate, Something is wrong with Ryan."

He is right. You can feel something is wrong. Very wrong. Your sixth sense rarely makes mistakes.

Where is he? You ask, "upstairs, please be careful. He is too kind. It is too risky." You take your Necronomicon and goat blood and go upstairs. As you are ascending the stairs, you can hear beautiful church hymns and children's laughter. A blinding white light is coming from under the room's door. And that smell. Orchids and lilies. You knock. "Mr Ryan. May I come in?"

"Of course my friend. Come join me. I am singing in honor of Jesus. our saviour. " You need to act and you need to act fast, whoever occupied Ryan's body is getting stronger every second. "My lord Satan, may blood, fire and sin, consume the soul of every useless human. Please guide this very nice guy into hell."

Suddenly Ryan screams in pain. "What are you doing you devil! Stop it! In the name of the father, and of the son and of the holy spirit..." You release a mighty shout: "Behold! the blood of the hell goat, fed by a virgin and done by the village's fool" and without any delay you proceed to spill it on Ryan. "God, it is cold! Gross!"

You call Patrick: "come here fast. We need to tie him up to bed". When it is done. You tell Patrick: "We need to act while that thing is weak. Hurry up. Get undressed! Now!"

He is hesitant for a few seconds, then he gets fully undressed. "Dance! Move your junk! Yes. The Filthier the better! That's the stuff!" Ryan trying so hard to cover his eyes but his hands are tied. "That's wrong and indecent, stop it at once!" Then his voice changes. "Enough! I didn't left the heaven for this!" You can have you filthy brother. I tried my best to help him. May the lord have mercy on his soul.

Suddenly the whole room fills with light. You can see a beautiful and divine being leaving Ryan's body. He is so pure, so breathtakingly beautiful, so otherworldly calm you almost fall in love, but you resist the urge to do the right thing. "In the name of one true son of a bitch I banish thee. Go back to your elitist boring home and never come back!"

Suddenly heavenly hymns and the smell of orchids and lilies fades.Now the room smells like a mixture of puck, booze and sweat and unwashed sacks. The scent of a real man. Ryan is unconscious but he will recover. Patrick thanks you and gives you your reward. You won this battle. But not the war. Heaven will strike again. And when it does. You will be ready for them.

"Dovahkiin you said?" And he shouted "WULD NAH KEST! " the mayor had seen many dragons flying in these past years, but never like this. Before he could finish saying the P of "please wait", the dragon took off and disappeared into the horizon.

I dunno about cheese. But I have a feeling he kept one of each booze he found.

"Yes lord dragon sir!" The mayor said. "We agree to your terms effective immediately." He was a short gnome, and by this I mean a gnome who is considered short among other gnomes.

The dragon looked around suspiciously. It was too easy. Since when people surrender to 100 feet long fire breathing flying lizard without few arrows and shouts?

He was deep in his thoughts when he realized he is surrounded by hundreds of town folks. "What is this? An ambush! I see, so you choose to fight at last. Stupid but honorable choice! So be it!"

One of the people, an elder, replied fast: no my lord. We brought you presents!

Dragon's eyes became ten times wider. "What? Presents?"

Yes! Elder answered. "There are cows, sheep, a few barns full of food, and even (a young beautiful elven girl came forward holding a lute) our most talented bard!"

"but...oh...wha..." The dragon was mumbling when the mayor interrupted him: lord dragon sir! Can you sign this treaty? It is just a formality!

"Okay. Tell me what's going on before I set this whole place on fire!!" "Well lord dragon sir..." Mayor started: "around a year ago this young man came to our beautiful little town. A real scum. He kept drinking in a bar for three days straight. Then refused to pay or leave. We sent guards to arrest him but he annihilated every single one of them. We hired mercenaries, assassins, even giants, but he kept beating them up. No one can match him. What a scum. "

"What is has to do with me?" Dragon asked.

Well (mayor was hesitant to say.) We thought maybe you lord dragon sir, surely you can defeat this criminal and restore the rule of law. We are begging you sir. Be the our ruller!!

Sure this tiny mortal could not match his might. dragon thought. And it felt like the mayor was telling the truth. "okay, where is this criminal. I will bring him to justice!"

He is still at the inn drinking. Just south of the town. You can't miss the building. Look for someone called Dovahkiin!

Thank you. So many untold stories. Like why Xagrax ate the king. I would love to be a good story teller. And I have so many. Yet it is time consuming for me to write and edit in English. I will try to write more. Maybe I can be a professional writer someday. A dream I was too lazy to chase after.

Thank you. That's the best thing a writer can hear.

The boy is in his mid twenties. Dressed in a simple but clean robe. He didn't look much like a villager. But here he was. His bright gray eyes fixed on the mighty being in front of him. He was not sure if the dragon was telling the truth or was just playing with him.

-Sir (he said hesitantly, trying to determine the sex of the creature to no avail) I am not the fairest of them all. Rather the most unfortunate it seems. I was a scholar from the academy of Kitzgerguard with a degree in monsterology...am I boring you?

-Not at all little one. After living for ten thousand years it is hard to be in a rush.

-I came here on commission of late king Bertram to study dragon lore. But then the whole thing with Xagrax happened. And the new king Hammond put a bounty on anyone who has been working on dragons.

-What happened? I have not been to the outside world for half a centenary.

-Well, how should I put it. King Bertram invited a dragon to his 60th birthday and that dragon, Xagrax, decided to eat him and burn half the capital. Apparently they had a serious disagreement on something.

-Indeed it looks severe. We dragons are not accustomed to eat monarchs.

-Anyway, the villagers kept me in prison hoping for a reward. But then you demanded a human sacrifice...

-I see. Better an outsider than one of their own. Two birds with one stone. They didn't know though. I was testing them. I was gonna give a tenth of my treasure to the Sacrificial lamb and let them go!

-Really my lord?

-Of course not you imbecile. I am pulling your leg. (And he let out a mighty laugh).

-Oh I see (young man was clearly not only disappointed but uneasy too, perhaps in this particular instant the outcome could have been either a treasure or an agonizing death.)

-Don't be so gloomy now. You might just make it. You know why I demanded a human sacrifice?

-I don't know my lord. Maybe eating cows and sheep has become tiresome? Or maybe they did you wrong?

• You are being sarcastic and bitter, young man. You should know better. Is this what you learned about dragons? To hold petty grudge against mortals?

-I apologize. Misfortune seems to follow me everywhere I go. Perhaps the prospect of being killed in this god-forsaken cave made me bitter.

-I once had the pleasure of courtship with a young mage. He died a thousand year ago, not eaten by a dragon I might add. I still miss him sometimes. You see young one. I crave a companion. And humans are in the habit of hating their most intelligent. I was hoping they would send someone interesting. Either way I would eat the boring ones.

(The Young man's body bounced back in shock. The Dragon laughed again and continued!)

-Look at your face. Oh my, I am having fun. Please excuse me for doing this. Jesting is something I missed a lot in solitude. Now, what is your take on Arukamov's Magnus dragonica? Are you familiar with the writing? Or should I eat you and demand another human?

This time they both laughed. And the young man began explaining his opinion on the controversial book. (But that is a story for another day. )

Ty. Maybe someday I write the whole thing. If he allows me.

ELeVezone WaiycArd DiEary of Pa1N

The old woman began to shake, her eyes dark and empty, like an abyss. Her almost bald head could have no skin and would be the same, her few remaining teeth reaping through her flesh. life itself abandoned her before the arrival of death.

Surrended by her family. They were mourning in silence. It was an early funeral, burial of hopes.

In a dark corner there was a boy weeping. She was his grandma. Well loved by those around her. She was okay just a few years before. But suddenly things changed dramatically. Insanity , dementia and delirium struck her brutally. She lost the ability to walk in 6 months and to talk in a year.

The little boy was crying, granny loved him and he loved her too. But deep in his eyes there was something else, something his mom and dad could not see. Horror, terror, he was seeing something others could not. Something impossible to explain. A black mass, blurry like fog and distinct like a rain cloud, was around his grandma. It was sucking a thing out of the old woman. Stream of a colorless glowing substance. He couldn't figure what it was. But he knew it was sinister.

Then from inside that foggy being two fiery eyes appeared. Two small red dots, staring into his very being.

-So you can see me little one. Huh! Pity, you are a beautiful child, and now I must haunt you for the rest of your life.

No other soul in the room was hearing a thing. Little buy watched in horror as room around him became blighted with darkness. He was all alone, with that thing. An unbearable rush of melancholy and helplessness was taking over his mind. He tried to scream but nothing came out.

-You know, she could see me too. And I would say it didn't end very well. They thought she was crazy, but she was fighting a war she could not win. And soon you will join her.

His voice began to rise in the boy's head:

And soon you will feel them all young one. Mania, schizophrenia, paranoia, unimaginable suffering for daring to break the order. All of you bunch will end up in asylum. And I will feast. You shall see me again. And you shall know my name, and you shall never speak it, or else you inflict me upon those who hear my name, is ELeVezone.

Old woman's family were crying around her bed. Her chest was not moving anymore. Voice of cries were rising. They were so busy with the dead, they didn't notice the boy peeing himself in the corner of the room. Nor the thing in his eyes. The terror. And a face he would never unseen.

End of intro