FicWad

Rahu woke up. He did not need to open his eyes in order to acknowledge the fact of his existence. Even if his heart did not beat, and his breath stopped, he knew for sure that now again, after so many years, he is himself. There was a roar in the ears, the body did not obey. The organs of perception were inhibited, however, this did not last too long. Gradually, the veil receded, returning to him the ability to realize what was happening from the outside.

"Drip. Drip"

Something cold and viscous ran down his face and fell down from his chin.

His throat tickled, and the wings of his nose fluttered, smelling a sharp metallic smell, so familiar that it did not seem like something foreign. He felt no pain, despite the fact that his hands were fixed with chains stretching from both sides. There was no support under bare feet. There was an understanding that he was hanging in the air, crucified, broken, like a victim of Spanish executioners who imagined themselves to be saints. It looks like he was hurt. At least, this was indicated by the abundance of sticky goo that covered his naked torso and back. Some kind of wet rubbish was also felt on the forehead, from which the hair stuck together in dirty lumps.

"How bad I think"

"Where I am?"

"It seems like yesterday I saw the sun for the last time, but it turns out that so many years have passed"

"Probably everyone I knew, being real, is already in the graves, or burned in furnaces"

Tensing, he began to go over in his memory the moments of his present life, which now seemed alien to him.

"My name is Milos, someone's unwanted child. I did not know my parents, I was raised by a foster family. I have spent most of my life in the village, from where I left for Helsinki a year ago when I entered the university. Now I am nineteen years old. And today someone took my life."

"I remember a snowy road, black trees, cold and fatigue. Reflections of moonlight and a yellow van, whose driver offered to drive to the station.

"He was middle-aged, bald, but trustworthy, in a black cap. He seemed to call himself by his first name and asked for mine. He seemed to be interested in my personality, especially in the matter of my family. When he found out that I was an orphan, he somehow strangely perked up.

"Then he treated me to coffee from a thermos."

"And while I was drinking, something heavy hit my temple."

Rahu mentally chuckled.

"If you knew that with your actions, you woke up something that should never have been woken up. But what now? Will you regret? After all, besides yourself, you doomed the rest, and yet they did not want it.

"What else have you done with Milos?"

He opened his eyes. He didn't need a mirror to know that the whites were darkened by the brown blood that flowed like tears. As he expected, he was in a dark room. Judging by the lack of windows, the concrete walls, illuminated by the faint light of a single blinking light bulb, it was a garage. Blood-stained rags lay on the dirty floor, in which Rahu hardly recognized his own clothes. A little further on stood a rough wooden table. On its surface, a pile of various tools lay, the true purpose of which could only be vaguely guessed. At least the large ax for chopping pork meat was clearly not prepared for the unfortunate animal. The blade of a long knife, more like a saber, seemed to be either rusty or stained with blood.

"You stabbed me like a beast, and now you went away for a while, most likely for cleaning supplies and other things, in order to clean up after yourself. Are you going to butcher my corpse? Or drown in acid?

Rahu has always been curious. Many years ago, when he was mortally wounded for the first time, he asked his mentor for a long time what should have happened to his internal organs if he were a normal person. He liked to watch others die, not like him. After all, they really did it all.

Now he was expecting the assassin to appear for that very purpose. It was possible to simply leave this place, making the bald man think that someone had stolen his corpse. It is unlikely that he would have believed in the existence of the revived dead without seeing him with his own eyes. For this reason, Rahu did not even try to free himself and continued to dangle in chains, swinging back and forth, like on a children's swing. His mood was surprisingly upbeat. For the first time in years, he felt free to make decisions. Before, he did not even dare to dream of such a thing, and being Milos, he did not appreciate what he had. If it were his will, he would gladly remain so, never remembering his true identity. Alas, this opportunity was taken away from him, and now he will have to sculpt himself anew, cutting off the abscesses of the past, getting rid of everything that made him suffer. He wanted to be happy.

Meanwhile, footsteps were heard outside the door. Rahu closed his eyes.

He heard the castle kick. The heavy doors creaked open and, a moment later, closed with a roar. Another click and two turns of the key. Then quick steps. He put something on the floor. Packets rustled.

"Looks like he brought a lot of things."

Thought Rahu, showing no signs of life. He relaxed as much as possible, depicting a corpse. Dropping his head on his chest, he opened his mouth and even stuck out his tongue, remembering that he could not remain pressed against the palate if the person was dead.

There was a sound of stretching rubber, followed by a light pop. Rahu guessed that he was wearing gloves.

"Why is he doing this?"

Then move to the side. The creak of iron and the noise of water pressure.

"I do not like it"

Rahu mentally picked himself up, guessing what was about to happen. A moment later, he was doused with cold water. It took an incredible effort not to twitch, ripping off the chains along with the wall mounts. He had always hated such manipulation, perhaps he would have preferred to have his throat slit a few more times, but then left alone.

Meanwhile, the maniac generously watered it, washing away the bloody smudges. The water flowed down his body, turning red, and went down somewhere, almost not lingering on the floor. Probably, a corresponding system was provided here. Belatedly, Rahu realized that he had no clothes on at all. At first, he did not pay attention to such an insignificant fact, being completely immersed in thought.

"Pray, pray you just killed me. Pray that you did not commit any abominable things with my body, because then your death will not be easy. I know more than a dozen ways to get the insides out of a person, while leaving him alive for long hours. I learned this from the best."

A few minutes later, everything stopped. The killer turned off the tap and went somewhere. Metal jingled and Rahu felt the chains start to move and lower him down. Bare feet touched the floor, but, remembering that he was still a dead man, he went limp and began to fall sideways. But he was not allowed to fall. The maniac grabbed it and, reaching for his wrist, opened the lock, first on his left hand, and then on his right. The chains fell to the floor.

Rahu suppressed the urge to stretch in order to stretch his stiff limbs. He wanted to wait a little longer to find out what would happen next.

They laid him on the wet floor. Something sharp touched the skin on my stomach. Cold metal gently entered the abdominal cavity.

"Sweet, gentle," a nervous whisper suddenly sounded near his ear, "the marvelous boy screamed so, so screamed when I cut him. A delicious boiled scar will come out of his offal ... - he swallowed his saliva and pressed the knife harder - white, white meat, skin like velvet.

Rahu felt hot, stale breath near his neck.

- I will enjoy every bite, every bone. Not a single part of you will be wasted, I will lick you all, I will drink your juices. You are a real angel..

A wet tongue touched his cheek and the "wonderful boy" could not restrain himself. He could listen to the fantasies of the cannibal for a long time, reeking of obvious physiological obsession. He could even let him cut further. But he did not intend to endure the sticky, smelly tongue on his body.

Rahu opened his eyes and saw a swollen pinkish muzzle in front of him, which seemed even more unpleasant in the current lighting. His thin blond hair, like fluff, framed the same pink crown, and colorless small eyes, a second ago covered with a haze of anticipation, now became round, like those of a fish. His plump hand was still clutching the hilt of the very long knife that remained in Rahu's stomach.

The maniac froze and seemed to stop breathing. Rahu was also silent. He could already guess what would happen a second later, all he had to do was roll his eyes in anticipation of a fit of hysteria.

- Didn't get it! Didn't get it!

The knife slashed furiously at his throat.

"If I kill him, it will look like I turned out to be a maniac. Milos Weinrich is still not dead, I will be found in a couple of days at the most. Of course, I can prove that I acted in self-defense, but unnecessary problems are not needed now.

Rahu thought distantly, not paying attention to how the blade cut into him everywhere, shredding the flesh.

"Just leave? Also not an option, who knows if he will look for me "

"There remains a third option"

He kicked the psychopath off himself, so that he flew off at a distance of meters, flopping to the floor like a sack. Rahu got up. Looking down, he discovered that his entire abdomen, as well as his chest, was riddled with multiple stab wounds, and a huge oblique incision gaped above the navel. But there was almost no blood. Smiling, he touched the neck, also cut up.

The maniac screamed, no, he squealed like an animal. Crawling into a corner, he was shaking and hitting the back of his head against the wall, it seems he was muttering something that looked like a prayer. His face reddened, becoming even more disgusting. When Rahu took a step towards him, he squealed even more piercingly, convulsively looking for something on his neck. Finally, he held up the pectoral cross in front of him, holding it with trembling hands.

- Stop! Get out! Get out!

Rahu did indeed stop, but only because a table with tools lay in his field of vision. The pig meat ax caught his attention. Reaching out, he grabbed it and held it up to his face, staring at his reflection in the gleaming blade. As he thought, the eyes were filled with dark blood so that the whites were indistinguishable.

He shifted his gaze to the maniac, who stopped yelling and looked at the ax in horror. Reading his thoughts, Rahu smiled.

- You have two ways, - he took a step closer, - this.

Putting the ax to the maniac's throat, he pressed, watching the crimson moisture appear on the flabby skin.

Or you run. Immediately! – the last word he almost growled, - Out!

Didn't have to repeat it twice. It seems that the unfortunate killer disappeared faster than Rahu could blink. At least he didn't even hear him unlock the lock. In the darkness of the streets there were screams, with an admixture of sobs, but they gradually subsided in the cold night.

"I managed to get rid of him in just a couple of minutes, those who are cruel to the weak are surprisingly cowardly"

Rahu stretched, straightening his shoulders. The wounds on the stomach disappeared and only pinkish traces reminded of them, but these marks will soon be gone. He smiled again, but this time kindly. Now he, too, had to leave this place, but before that, he should take care of his clothes.