Unlimited - страница 82

They walked over the whole capital of Russia on foot in the evenings, speaking about everything what they thought of. The demon confessed that he hellishly liked Moscow, its buildings, structure and movement, frowned people who, despite their gloominess, were ready to help and smile at any time. He liked movement most of all. It was everywhere in Moscow: on the roads, under the ground, in the sky, in buildings and basements, on roofs and railways. There was nothing static in this city. The tartar representatives were fascinated with crazy Russian chaotic conditions.

No Victoria’s arguments worked that to live constantly in turmoil was very difficult, it sucked out of you your energy… life in the long run. Moscow absorbed everything. It was like a black hole, swallowed up you. Few people could notice them be in the centre of the vile city abyss. That was because no one wanted to run away from it.

Moscow made most part of its population exist but not live. It managed to keep millions of people with its beauty and massiveness. Perhaps it was tired of us but due to its habit it kept on absorbing and sucking surrounding materials.

Victoria told about miracles of underground life in the capital, about true architecture that was covered under the strata of the ground.

The demon visited every metro station in the underground, having looked over great mosaics, statues, patterns, frescos… It would be nothing to say that he was shocked. He didn’t suppose people to have done those. People weren’t supposed to have definitions of beauty and ability to give life to beauty.

Certainly, Kharon couldn’t help seeing female part of Moscow. He happened to be with people, but it hadn’t been for so long and as a rule it’d been in Europe and its buttoned-up ladies. He had one-day relations and none of those women did even try to have a walk with Kharon. None of them gave him a possibility to see also beautiful medieval London, pretentious Paris and laid down base of the Elfie Tower. He saw nothing but respectable ladies who were preoccupied with their own desires when they, hiding from their husbands, enjoyed sins of the flesh not only with people but with incubi. Before Kharon had seen nothing bad of it. The demon was had been created to satisfy the fair sex, what did he have to complaint of?

Kharon read like a neon signs, women’s minds, their desire no one knew about. He liked their minds. Women didn’t always think of sex: they had a lot of things to do and feel, which their minds were full of. They tried to keep everything in mind. They were in a hurry.

Every time Victoria was madly jealous when she noticed Kharon looking at one or another girl. He could fascinatingly smile at any girl that made Vic angry and confused. The girl said nothing to him. She silently got over her emotions. What could she say to him? She didn’t even know if Kharon was capable of being jealous and what it was in fact?

In his turn the demon understood what to be jealous meant but he didn’t understand well what he did so special that Vic was getting angry. It was enough to give a good look to any girl and he could hear her teeth grit.

Victoria almost got used to her visions and spirits. She saw spirits every day. She could see the same souls near her colleagues who accompanied them. Almost every person had near the deceased. Victoria didn’t know why the deceased were among people. Fortunately, spirits didn’t speak to her. They sometimes brazenly immersed her into their own memories, showing their past lives. Most of all those were moments of their deaths. Rarely they showed to her something good or other happy moments.