Chapter N.I
Vitaly Ivolginsky
Always Visible (Another Prayer for the Dying Horror Genre)
Zero Act — Que Difícil é Ser Escravo de Deus!
Chapter N.I
Almost the entire territory of the valley, spread out at the very foot of the mountains, was occupied by a rich fair, which attracted people from all over the area. There was something to stare at: colourful tents, flashy signs and stalls from which they traded all sorts of things. It seemed that each store tried to surprise customers with something unusual, each merchant sought to outdo competitors and stand out from the crowd of their own kind. Between the tents bustled cheerful and noisy youngsters, serious and sedate adults, as well as bilious and gloomy gaffers. They were all united by one common property – all as one vied with each other touted their product and urged their purchasers not to be stingy and spend more money.
It was amusing how sincerely passers-by believed the hucksters at their word – probably, it was the eternal need for entertainment and spectacles. No one paid attention to the fact that merchants often give goods to customers at a price several times higher than their cost, and their quality was far from always up to par. A sane person would never have bought here all the rubbish that was put up for sale here, but this fair was like that – no matter how you walk on it, you still buy something. And generally such fun reigned in the shopping arcade that it was sometimes completely incomprehensible to an outsider who was selling, who was buying, and who was just idly staggering between the rows, staring at merchandise on display.
On holidays, the cries of people, which the wind carried far around, did not subside day or night. Today, despite the fact that according to the calendar it was the twenty-ninth of June – Feast of Saints Peter and Paul, selling was held in complete silence, except for the rare ringing of bells coming from the tents placed throughout the space of the fair. Clouds were gathering in the sky, but there was no rain yet.
On this day, only at the very entrance to the fair, several sellers were sitting in their places, who were languidly talking to each other and throwing lazy glances towards the huge circus tent – main attraction of this place. Its motley tarpaulin was decorated for the holiday with garlands of colourful balloons and brightly coloured paper flags. Not a soul was in chapiteau – it seemed that all its artists, acrobats and conjurers amicably left their places a few days before the holiday, and now its curtains fluttered in the cold wind that blew over the valley.
Suddenly, a desperate cry flew to the ears of the only participants in the fair at the moment, so unexpected that all five people – four merchants and one onlooker – involuntarily shuddered in their places. And then, right in front of their eyes, Sweaty Subject ran into the fair with a leather folder under his arm.
“Please, somebody help me!”, heartrendingly screamed this person.
“What happened to him?”, wondered Confectionery Countermen, wrapping the lollipop in cling film.
“It’s obvious he’s running from someone!”, answered him Pottery Peddler, cleaning an old ceramic crock.
“Interestingly, from the beast?”, guessed Raggery Retailer, shaking dust out of mat.
“It seems to me that from a human”, suggested Toy Trader, embroidering toy dresses for new dolls.
“Either way, he needs support!”, intervened Weariless Woodcutter, who was just goofing around.
Sweaty Subject, shrinking his whole body, continued to run forward. His folder opened and white sheets of paper flew out into the air. Meanwhile, a distant rumble of thunder reached the ears of the assembled.
“One-Who-That-Never-Visible chasing after me!”, he cried out even more desperately.
“Didn’t understand who he talking about?”, asked Confectionery Countermen, placing candy on a tray.
“Why can’t the pursuer can’t be seen?”, echoed him Pottery Peddler, put down his pot.
“Maybe because he is not visible?”, answered them both Raggery Retailer, hanging a rug on the wall.
“How is this possible?”, growled Toy Trader, putting the puppets in the crate.
“Whatever the case, something was fishy!”, concluded Weariless Woodcutter, rolled up the sleeves.
Without making out his way, Sweaty Subject gradually approached the circus tent. The papers that spilled out of his folder scattered randomly in different directions, but no one paid attention to this, because their owner suddenly froze in place and slowly rose up half a meter above the ground.
“Save me, somebody save me!”, the stranger shouted hoarsely.
“Friends, just look at this!”, exclaimed Confectionery Countermen, looking at how Sweaty Subject fluttered in the air.
“Someone has grabbed him and now holding!”, gasped Pottery Peddler, watching the stranger bulge his eyes and panting.
“But I don’t see anyone!”, said in bewilderment Raggery Retailer, seeing as Sweaty Subject began to swing back and forth.
“Think, this isn’t a game…”, muttered Toy Trader, when the stranger suddenly flew to the ground.
“So what are you waiting for, let’s hurry to help him!”, cheered up the merchants Weariless Woodcutter, bending his arms at the elbows.
In the meantime, Sweaty Subject relish crashed on his face and sprawled out on the grass with his arms outstretched. The marketeers were already preparing to rush to his aid, when they suddenly saw how the huge dome of the tent began to slowly fall to the ground, as if someone had dropped the strong pillars supporting it.
“Hey, who is stealing my goods?”, squealed in fright Confectionery Countermen, when lollipops suddenly began to disappear from his counter.
“Who’s beating my dishes?”, shouted Pottery Peddler, dodging ceramic shards flying in his face.
“Get this sheet off me!”, called out Raggery Retailer, floundering under a veil thrown over by someone.
“It was painful”, hooted Toy Trader, when the soccer ball hit his solar plexus.
“Just you wait!”, growled Weariless Woodcutter, rubbing the bruise under the eye.
Like it or not, but Sweaty Subject spoke the pure truth – some invisible force penetrated into the fair. There was no time to delay. Confectionery Countermen helped Raggery Retailer get out from under the velvet cover embroidered with gold patterns, and all four merchants, led by Weariless Woodcutter, began to keep the council.
“My hot caramel will burn scoundrel’s skin!”, bleated in a nasty voice Confectionery Countermen, grabbing a aluminum saute pan from the stove.
“With sharp shards I will shower the grass on which he will pass!”, yelled Pottery Peddler, picking up the pieces of the broken pot in a bag.
“I’ll try to gouge out his eyes with scissors!”, roared Raggery Retailer, rummaging through the closet
“People, you don’t really see him…”, rightly noticed Toy Trader, put on boxing gloves just in case.
“Anyway, he can’t resist it!”, said with fighting zeal Weariless Woodcutter, picking up his sharpened hatchet from the ground.
The impressive appearance of this weapon immediately reassured the merchants – they realized that the axe would protect them anyway, so they gave up trying to arm themselves with something and ran in single file for Weariless Woodcutter towards the fallen tent. The next minute there was a rumble of thunder throughout the valley, and a downpour fell from the heavens onto the fair. This whim of nature confused people, and they involuntarily froze in place while cold streams of rain whipped their heads and clothes.
“Look! Watch up there!”, audibly called out Confectionery Countermen, attracting the attention of other marketeers.
“My lord, what I see!?”, could not suppress his surprise Pottery Peddler, gazing at the vague outline of a human silhouette standing in the middle of the trampled grass
“Great, he became visible”, thoughtfully said Raggery Retailer, looking at the translucent, as if made of glass figure.
“It’s all because of the rain…”, muttered darkly Toy Trader, realizing what was the matter.
“Whatever it was, it must be get’em immediately!”, shaking an hatchet, shouted Weariless Woodcutter
Four vendors in a bunch, to say nothing of the rubberneck, began to slowly – step by step – approach the human figure, which stood motionless five meters from the motley canvas of the tent lying on the grass. From the outside, this event looked as if predatory wolves encircled a defenseless lamb in order to tear it apart – which was not so far from the truth, if you remember how strongly the primitive instinct to destroy their own kind is developed in every person.
“Come to your senses, I have not harmed thou!”, suddenly, a beautiful young voice rang out.
“Just hear, it turns out he knows how to talk!”, hissed Confectionery Countermen.
“What are you justifying?!”, barked angrily Pottery Peddler to the human figure.
“Guys, don’t let him go!”, shouted Raggery Retailer.
“One-Who-That-Never-Visible is not that invisible!”, amazedly said Toy Trader.
Weariless Woodcutter without saying a word – he dashed forward bravely towards translucent silhouette standing motionless in the grass. Back-swing, and the hatched fell on the glass head.
“Shield your eyes!”, warned the others Pottery Peddler.
Confectionery Countermen with Raggery Retailer put their hands up to faces, and Toy Trader plugged his ears. However, what was their surprise when the glass human figure did not break into thousands of sharp fragments, but only silently fell on the grass.
“Then it serves you right!”, resounded a cheerful voice of Weariless Woodcutter.
The merchants took their hands off heads and approached their saviour, who was looking down at the grass. They followed his example and did not believe their eyes.
“Well, for heaven’s sakes…”, groaned Confectionery Countermen, seeing the transparent body of an adult lying on the ground.
“A masterpiece of the glass making”, quoth Pottery Peddler, looking at the perfectly smooth features of the glass statue.
“Hey he’s warm and mild!”, cried with wonder Raggery Retailer, touching his chest.
“Oh, what are those?”, shouted in fright Toy Trader, when the glass surface suddenly began to flicker and become covered with dark stains
“Get back from it, now!”, ordered Weariless Woodcutter.
Merchants with onlooker backed away from the statue lying in the grass, which in the meantime began to take colour – as if someone’s invisible hand applied oil paints to the glass figures. Limbs were pink first, then stained the chest and stomach, and then all five watchers stand in awe when they saw the beautiful young face – there was no anxiety or abhorrence in the youth’s eyes, he just gazed serenely straight up at the cloudy sky.
“So it wasn’t a beast…”, mumbled Confectionery Countermen, shivering from the cold streams of rain.
“This is a true human, just like us”, whispered sadly Pottery Peddler, swallowing the lump in his throat.
“So immature… And what a peaceful sight he has…”, as if in a trance noticed Raggery Retailer.
“We killed him! He is not breathing, his heart is not beating!”, cried out Toy Trader, recovering from stun.
Weariless Woodcutter refrained from commenting. Instead, he silently tossed his hatchet aside and, pulling off his knitted hat, froze in place, clutching it in his hands. An awful silence followed his deed, and each of those standing next to the deceased felt his responsibility for what he had done. It’s been four minutes, and gathered people decided they’d had enough, began to disperse, but before they had time to take two steps, the ground shook under their feet.
“Oh, God! It’s an… …quake!”, swallowing words, yelled Confectionery Countermen, falling on the land.
There was such a rumble in the air that no one heard his words, but each of them saw with horror how the earth began to crack and the trading tents began to fall into the ground. People rushed about in a panic, but there was no salvation – there was nowhere to run, with every second more and more cracks appeared in the ground, from which clouds of dust rose up, and in some half a minute the entire fair disappeared underground.
Soon the earthquake stopped and the deafening grumble finally subsided. When the wind dispersed the clouds of dust, it became clear that from the whole fair there was only one single tent of the spice merchant – everything else disappeared in a huge funnel gaping in the ground, in the middle of which stood an earthen pillar, the top of which was covered with grass, on which, with his arms outstretched to the sides, the same immature man lay motionless. His glazed eyes continued to look at the sky, already cleared of clouds.
The young man’s mouth was slightly open, and from the side it might seem as if he was silently saying a prayer. It was not clear why the plot of land on which the deceased lay did not go underground along with the rest of the fair, but one thing was certain – the earthquake was not a natural disaster, but retribution for his death. And as if confirming it, a loud cry resounded over the valley, full of inescapable anguish and suffering. As it might seem, that this cry came from all directions at the same time, as if sound source was somewhere in the sky…
