Without Kevordo

“Ordinary death. This always happens. Eternal torment.” – Alex got up from the bunk. He did not know what to do. Every time he found the so -called “output”. He was always waiting for him to cut him off from him. Either you are tormented or dying calmly. He looked at his body, there was no living place on him. There was a gaping hole on his chest recently, which was unlikely to be removed unnoticed, but it is not. Everything inside is in place, only a seam and a couple of pieces of skin. There were scars on the abdomen from numerous stabs with a knife. All of them were tightened. The only thing he cannot see is his face. It was hidden under a black mask that reminiscent of a mask of tribes from South America. The eye is not visible, but he himself saw everything perfectly, as if the mask was not on it.
“Could take it off?”He thought. Slowly, began to look for at least something that could be clinging for and remove the mask. I found nothing, fool.

He left the ward, there was no one in the corridor, except for the wind, freely walking among the chambers and wheelchairs.
“Do not be distracted by anything, or not they will come. Or worse ” – he is no longer afraid of every rustle for the first time.

“Four hundred and fifteenth, four hundred and sixteenth, four hundred and seventeenth … This will not end. This corridor goes endlessly. Need to go in the opposite direction. ” – the creak of the door interrupted the flight of his thoughts. A nurse left the door. She was in a medical robe, rolled the patient along the corridor. They talked about something. She laughed sweetly. Strange, earlier the corridor was dark and covered with rust and blood, and now it is illuminated by light from all sides. Alex came out from behind the wall, but there was nobody there, like light and warmth that gave him the sun.

He continued his journey along the corridor.

“Four hundred and thirty -fifth, four hundred and thirty -sixth, the first … Stop” – this chamber introduced him into a stupor. – “The first cannot be in a row among the four hundred and thirty -sixth and” – he looked at the ward moving on – “four hundred and thirty -eighth.” – Drying a little, he decided for himself. “And what the hell is not joking? I’m still dead “.

The whole chamber was lit by the rays of the https://sportsbettingmedia.co.uk/latest-news/top-android-casino-games-uk-reviews-bonuses sun. It warmed him, giving an occasion to live. The ward was for one person. Apparently for the one who will pay better. In addition to beds, there was a TV, a desk and a chair. Soft, apparently. He decided to sit down at the chair. Yes, he was soft. There were different notes on the table. Nearby lay two pens and pencil. He took the first handle, Park Pench. It was written “from Jack for Roland, with the best wishes”. The other handle was commonplace and did not differ in sophistications. Purely for black work. Pencil too. Having examined three notes, he realized that these were Roland’s notes, who arrived here about a month ago. He was sent for examination due to sharply rising temperature and high salts. All these notes were excerpts from a personal diary, as I understand it.

Something knocked on the door.

In the hope that he would stop knocking, Alex continued to inspect the room. There were lightning wallpaper everywhere. On the floor is a large rug, with an incomprehensible pattern even for me. Either geometric shapes, somehow interconnected, or a similar drawing that resembles a skull.

Knocking began to be more intensively.

He went to the window, behind him was a small courtyard for a walk with the sick. Relatives, nurses, children. There were all those who were at least somehow connected with the sick and the care of them. They were happy. Everyone was in the rays of the sun. No, it was not hot. It simply lit up with a bright light everything. And he felt happiness.

The knock stopped. The sound of cracking wood was sharply heard.

Not far from the table, something shoved with the light. Mirror. You need to inspect yourself. Having removed the curtain, he examined himself. He himself was in a blue sweatshirt, black jeans and dark green boots that resemble army shoes. On the face the same mask. Made from a dark wood breed. Having examined it, he realized that it can only be removed by opening as a tin can.

“Alex!” – the female voice gently, but harshly whispered in his ear -” Alex, wake up, Sonya.”

“Margaret” – our protagonist said in a tired voice, as if he unloaded the wagons – “I told you that I would not be awake, otherwise. “

“You are dead.” – with a savage smile on her face, she uttered this phrase. She was full of sadism, ridicule and bullying.