《The psychopath and the chimera》 Drops and rhythm The indelicate sound of dark water droplets from the leaking rusty faucet in the depths of the night felt like hammer blows. The unrhythmic sound along with the fatigue of his body prevented Liman from sleeping. His bags under his eyes seemed to take on the color of the black water that was now beating against the iron of the sink. Leeman could have overpowered himself and renounced that sound, entering a welcome world of emptiness for his tired mind. But the rumble of automatons coming down the street, pounding away at the rubble and stone paving with their weight, thwarted the peace for him. Sometimes he thought he could hear them breathing. The very thought of it stirred him, for they had nothing and nothing to breathe. What if they had bodies built into them? What if these machines had human bones instead of a skeleton? Maybe people could not give their minds to metal, but they could transform the body into something new, magnificent and terrible. A finely honed mechanism whose work is not interrupted or altered by external stimuli. Screws, grease, gears, fastenings and pipes are inert to any emotion. The mechanism works, and the bones give meaning to its work. Or not bones? Bone marrow? Brain? Networks of neurons? The last ego in their electrical impulses? Because of the swarming thoughts and the body shivering caused by them, Leeman had to get up and take a drink of water, trying not to think about it as much as the color of the water he drank. Involuntarily, Liman ran his eyes along the ceiling in search of his old roommate. And in one spot across a crack in the ceiling stood a Butterfly. Her wings of iridescent blue color flowed smoothly to black at the edge. Butterfly was cleaning her trunk and occasionally patting her wings. - Listen, insect, find another home! - Liman grumbled unhappily when he noticed it. The butterfly, ignoring him, continued to clean its trunk. - You''re lucky you don''t have a clapper! For two months you''ve been annoying my eyes, if you were at least white in color, it would be prettier. And anyway, you don''t live that long? While Liman was standing and thinking about how to make sleep come closer and whether it was worth using folk methods, loud conversations began to come from downstairs as the last straw for his nerves. (He hadn''t lasted two weeks, and now he was talking again.) Liman, in a fit of anger, quickly left the apartment, slamming the door loudly. The vibration from that was so strong it even alarmed Butterfly. Going down to the lower floor, he began to pound insistently on the wooden door, using both hands. The longer it went unopened, the more force he put into it. The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation. _____________________ The man was awakened by a loud knock. It took him a few dozen seconds to come to his senses. - W... What is it? His wife soon woke up too. In the middle of a quiet night, a persistent sound would make anyone fearful. - Go to the little one, stay with her. I''ll see what it is. - Said the man with a stern face, looking into his wife''s eyes. The man, without changing his clothes, headed for the front door, secretly taking a kitchen knife with him. As he walked to the door, the rumbling grew louder and louder. The door, which came into view, shook from the force being applied to it. Removing the hinges, he opened the door. -I told you not to make any noise. He was greeted by a black-haired, long man with a disgruntled face, some parts of his face scarred. His green eyes looked directly at him. And the abundance of scars in his eyes was striking. - I told you to be quiet. I told you, one more time and I''ll flood your apartment. - The man continued his angry triad. The man was stunned, it was the first time he''d seen him. He and his family had moved into a new apartment two weeks ago, because of his busy job he had no time to get to know his neighbors. -Man, this is the first time I''ve seen you, go away nicely- -Shouted the man to Liman, clutching his cutlery. - You got your memory blown out by the alcohol again? For the second time in six years- Liman got even angrier at the man''s words. -I''ll pour moonshine into your stomach. The dazed man was grabbed by trembling hands. Without expecting it, the man fell into a stupor, forgetting his knife. - I''ll have you choking on degrees! A happy repose for you, isn''t it? From the sounds of the quarrel, all the neighbors on the nearest two floors woke up and came out to see the situation. Seeing Liman, the neighbors looked at the man sympathetically. Without getting involved in the situation, they murmured amongst themselves, some of them walked back home, on the way to their houses they stood in admiration, noticing a butterfly of a lovely blue like ocean color flying under the ceiling. - Daddy - The man was brought to his senses by his daughter''s voice. - Anais! Get back in the room - The daughter''s voice was followed by the terrified wife''s screams. The man felt small hands pulling his back. Fear for her made him furious. At the last moment before giving in to his anger, he threw the knife away. - Get away from Daddy, get away!" shouted the crying child, looking behind his father''s back. Liman was stunned at the sight of mother and daughter. His bewilderment was interrupted by a heavy blow to his father''s face. A follow-up punch to the stomach knocked his breath away. Pain, it sobered faster than sleep. Sleep deprivation and fatigue disappeared in an instant, freeing the mind, and a clear consciousness tasting the pain in full and the sensations it brought with it. Compressed lungs, unable to breathe in the coveted air. The effort to breathe in her throat felt like a fire had been lit in her throat, burning the walls of her larynx. - Agh... Ahem. Khaa. In order to regain consciousness, you need to catch your breath. To catch your breath, you have to at least start breathing. The man did not continue beating Liman. He stood in front of the open door, looking at him sternly. (Breathe. Breathe. Breathe. Breathe. Breathe.) There was only one thought in Liman''s mind, and after a while it appeared to him as if embodied by desire. The cold night air cooled his flaming throat and filled the lungs that yearned for him. After a few inhales and exhales, Liman calmed down and looked at the daughter clinging to her father and the mother yanking her away. Taking one last look at the man, Leeman twitched and walked briskly to his apartment, shoving the neighbors away. - When are you going to die! - An old man shouted at him from the crowd. - Fuck off! - Immediately sounded the answer for the old man. Liman returned to his apartment, where the same drops were still beating the same disorderly rhythm. A groan escaped from Liman''s mouth, the picture of mother and daughter never leaving his eyes. (When did this alcoholic have a family? Two weeks ago he didn''t have one.) Wiping his face with his hands, Leeman looked out the window. The landscape behind him was still dark. But the sound of footsteps was gone, not even left as an echo. - Shit! It was still night, how long would it last! Leeman walked back to his bed, returning to his routine of trying to sleep. - Maybe he should have bought a watch. Though time goes slower with them. Probably. No, I shouldn''t. There might not be enough money, and it''s a waste. Liman fell into a half-sleep in the middle of his thoughts. Help Centr he streets hummed with the flow of their ordinary life. A sparse stream of cars passed along the roads, the bulk of which consisted of trucks. The exhaust of cars in this windless weather did not have time to disperse through the air. People had to wipe their faces periodically to get rid of the soot. The richer people avoided this problem by taking the streetcar. Others tortured their lungs and legs by walking along the nervous road. In this city even pigeons no longer inhabit the parks and streets, they flew away ten years ago, and who knows where they went? Perhaps to the dangerous but clean forests. For birdwatchers whose lives are tied to the study and perhaps even love of birds, this is dramatic news. From the perspective of the rest of us humans and the city, it''s undeniable joy; the flying rats have spontaneously flown away. ______________ A scattering of light fell through the apartment window, illuminating the dusty space. Dirty dishes, blackened walls with moss growing in the corners. The only clean space was a bookcase, almost to the top, filled with incarnations of other worlds or reflections of applied reality. A few rays, breaking through the dark divots of the window, fell uncompromisingly on the man''s eyelids. For the fourth hour Liman has been in a state between dream and reality. His face lit up with carefree childish joy, then darkened with an incomprehensible universal sadness. But despite the frequent changes of expression, not a single sound escaped his lips. With a sudden movement, Liman jumped up from the bed and immediately fell to the floor, hitting his head against the walls of the wooden bed. (Such wailing, if she knew how to listen.) Liman''s half-open eyelids finally opened fully, the rays of sunlight hitting his eyes finally waking his consciousness. - Damn, we''d have to hurry to get in line. - Almost instantly, the man oriented himself with his plans Liman had thoughtfully changed into clean clothes last night, saving himself a lot of time. Dark t-shirt and blue jeans - the most common clothes in this city, clothes of other colors did not make sense to wear, expensive, quickly got dirty. Quickly eating a piece of rye standing bread from the table, he hurried outside. Fortunately, he didn''t run into any of his neighbors. A meeting would have usually ruined the mood for both of them. The street immediately greeted Liman with the smell of steel and rotten fish. Even though the market was five streets away, the smell of seafood still wafted this way. You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version. (13 Peace Street, I wonder if Peace Street would be above or below War Street.) As he walked towards this street, Liman recalled an interesting observation he had heard from someone at work. This street had the least amount of crime. A surprisingly impressive statistic and just as surprisingly encouraging to want to move there. But there are no residences on this street, nor are there any manufacturing buildings. In this industrial city, it''s nothing short of a sent down miracle, perhaps even by God. (It is said that mankind created gods by looking at the objects around them. Has the god of steam and metal already been born, or has his divine body not yet been smelted? His material is clear. But what would be the fuel for his birth?) As he thought about it, but kept walking, Liman crossed his eyes with a child trying to steal the wallet of a gentleman who was wearing a cylinder on his head. - Shall we be the flame? - said Leeman, looking at the child. The child stole the wallet from the gentleman and quickly slipped it with the dexterous movement of an experienced cheat into a hidden sleeve pocket. Hearing Liman''s words, he only looked at him perplexedly and skillfully disappeared into the stream of people. On the way Liman ran into a couple of people running out from around the corner. He parted with them amicably by swearing at them. Soon Peace Street appeared before him. The very buildings of unclear purpose were lined up in a row. - House one, house two, an amazing order for this city," Lyman said to himself as he looked at the plaques and buildings. Some houses had no windows, others had windows, but they were barred. If you listened closely, you could hear a quiet scraping sound. It had no source, it seemed to come from everywhere. It didn''t resemble a beastly hunger gnashing, more like the gnashing of a sufferer, similar to self-torture, less emotional, more insistent. The gnashing didn''t bother Liman much, the other sounds were louder and far more annoying. Among the barred buildings, the house he wanted finally showed up, one of the differences being a sign above the entrance that read "Help Center". The last Help Center had looked almost the same, only smaller by half. Liman didn''t look at the facade for long and entered the building almost immediately. If he had taken more time to look around, he would have gotten an unsightly view from behind the bars. A blue butterfly embedded in the outline of his face peered out from behind the curtains of every floor, every window. With each flap of the butterfly''s wings, the face blurred into space and reappeared. He was greeted by a well-lighted reception area covered in light brown wallpaper. A row of wooden chairs lined up against the walls. At the end of the room stood the most ordinary reception desk, with cold iron doors on either side. Behind the counter, littered with folders and sheets of documents, sits a well-groomed lady in office clothes with an embroidery of yellow flowers blooming pollen on her collar. Liman might have approached her with a friendlier face had he been less concerned about his gaps. - Hello, can I make an appointment? - Liman asked with a sour expression on his face. - Hello, of course! You''re on the third floor in the first office, the appointment is on a first-come, first-served basis. "Stairs to my left," the girl said with a smile, taking her eyes off the document in her hands. Without further ado, Liman headed for the stairs, immersed in a new reflection on when the expression "live line" came into use. Behind his back, the girl''s smile quickly disappeared, replaced by indifference. Her eyes watched him until he disappeared, entering the stairwell. The third floor greeted him with the same emptiness and light brown wallpaper. Only a few details had changed: instead of chairs against the wall, there were doors in the walls. (Oak doors? Kind of expensive for a free psychological help center.) To Liman''s surprise and joy, the floor was empty. Approaching the first door of the floor, he knocked and, without waiting for an answer, went inside Sensations The morning light streamed through the clear window, illuminating the room. A blond-haired man stood at the window, bathed in that light. His white, serene robe stood out greatly from the usual routine of this city. Thanks to the flowers hanging by the wall or the lack of factories outside, the air here seemed unheard ofly clean, as if the forest itself breathed here. The doctor exhaled heavily as he looked through the patient''s file. The previous doctor''s note boded poorly. Possible attacks of uncontrollable aggression, verbal aggression can be replaced by physical aggression if the trigger for the irritation (aggression) is in the patient''s perceptual zone. UPD.1 In one session, using metaphorical associative maps, it was revealed that aggression can arise from memories. UPD.2 In subsequent sessions, the same associative map was not met with an aggressive response. It is possible that self-reflection is triggering the attacks. (Dr. Isis Conclusions. 33.04.1224/1223.5) (Dr. Wall removed from patient observation per O.P.1.1. 35.04.1225/1224.5) (Dr. assigned to patient. 1.05.1225/1224.5) Closing the folder, the Doctor returned to his desk, tidying it up before the next patient appointment. Finished cleaning up and filing the documents into drawers, the Doctor pulled a flavoring wrapped in a sheet from his pocket and crumbled it with his hands, burning it along with the sheet. Within a couple of seconds the flavoring burned away without a trace, dissipating into the room. ______________ Ruining the peace of the room, Leeman walked in. He couldn''t help but sigh, amazed at the cleanliness and order of the place he had discovered. As he looked around the room, the doctor examined him. And for a moment their eyes met. Liman didn''t like the doctor''s analyzing gaze, and he just had to put up with it. At the moment, he badly needed the medication the doctor was prescribing. - Have a seat, Leeman. - said the doctor in a voice as clean as his white coat. Liman sat down on the couch that stood parallel to the doctor''s desk. This couch had the most light falling on it, delivering much needed warmth to relax the body. It was the headache from his recent bump on the bed that prevented him from fully relaxing. (Where is the light coming from? Isn''t the sun on a different axis of the sky right now?) - How are you feeling? - The doctor asked, interrupting Leeman''s thoughts. - I''ve been better. It''s all right, if you''re not too picky. I''ve got arms and legs, that''s lucky for a production worker. - Do you often pick on yourself? - I don''t, it''s just a figure of speech. Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences. - I see. - The doctor made a mark in his draft. - The worms haven''t been bothering you anymore? The doctor shattered the calm atmosphere with his voice. Leeman turned his head to the doctor and looked at him a second time. - Which ones are you referring to exactly? Last month a couple of worms decided the entryway was the best place to get drunk. Last week, I was robbed by a particularly nimble worm. The day before that, a couple of worms spilled paint on my-- - I mean those worms in your brain you were complaining about six months ago. - interrupted the doctor. - Complained and complained. I haven''t slept for a long time, I dreamt a lot of delusions, or are we going to talk about every dream I have? Yesterday I dreamt of a burnt knight on the lagoon, and we''re going to talk about him? - Leeman was lying, he had never dreamt anything in all his twenty-three years of life. - If you describe the burnt knight in detail for three months, we''ll talk about him. You know exactly what I mean, don''t get off the subject. - No, they didn''t, the pills worked, and I need a couple more packs. - You''re getting off the subject again. Run a couple of tests and I''ll prescribe the pills. Leeman didn''t answer the doctor, and he took the silence as consent, taking the test devices out of the drawer. As he laid out the instruments, Leeman noticed a circular scar on his left palm. The doctor took two vials of colorless water and placed them on the edge of the table. - What color is the water in these vessels? - The right one is black and the left one is colorless. The doctor dropped green dye into the left vessel, which immediately colored the water. - And now? - Same colors. (This doctor is weird too, why pour water into water?) After removing the vessels, the doctor gave Liman photorealistic drawings. - Describe how these drawings make you feel. The first of the drawings showed water, the depth of the infinite ocean, the heaviness of the pressure. At the top a few meters away was freedom. One only had to swim through and breathe in salvation and life. But the drawing didn''t show it. Every drop of water that entered weighed the body down, lowering it into the abyss. Milliliters of liquid filling the lungs. A rapid pulse and cardiac arrest. The worries that had become so insignificant before the imminent end. They dissolved without a trace at the first sip of water. A mind that no longer felt its own self. And in the end, that feeling of serenity before death. - Freedom. Without waiting for a reaction, Liman continued to describe the pictures. A girl in a sundress walking through the woods on a quiet evening. Her body odor wafting through the forest. Weeks of waiting and anticipation. The victim, unaware of the hunter at the crown of the tree. What expression will she show when she sees him? What will happen after the claws tear through her body? Tearing her mouth open with his maw, staring into her eyes a centimeter away. What would be in them? The hunter''s claws pressed into the crown of the tree with excitement. - Hunger. The man, smiling, clutched his successful product, an air purification filter. But why is it always him? How am I any worse? Again he will be talked about, will be, leaving me in the shadows. I''ve been working too, but why can''t anyone see me? If it weren''t for me, what could he have done?! His disdainful face looking at me will burn in the furnace. And I''ll breathe in his ashes, laughing. I just have to wait. - Envy. A drawing of a street that looks like the street of the world. The very sound that now settles in my ears. - The scraping. Taking the last painting, Leeman immediately threw it away, surprising the doctor. The doctor wanted to ask what was in it, but involuntarily froze, meeting his gaze. An indescribable fear ran through the doctor. Even the butterfly on the ceiling stirred, flapping its wings. The next device to be tested was a pendulum measuring activity from the outside. It spontaneously started swinging with accelerating amplitude. - Give me the pills. - Liman said in a quiet voice. The doctor did not answer Leeman, clutching the pistol in the concealed compartment with one hand. - I passed the test. The pills. - Liman spoke slowly, and that previously unknown expression was replaced by a rather ordinary rage. The doctor is a professional after all and quickly calmed down, took out the pills, throwing them to Liman. He caught them and hurried away from the place. - Come back in a week. - The doctor shouted to him one last time. Their views Liman, already much calmer than he had been at the doctor''s office. knocked on the door of the stranger''s apartment. Tired of waiting for an answer, he pulled a bunch of lock picks of lock picks from his pocket, preparing to open the door. Taking a closer look at the lock and selecting one of the lock picks, he set to work. into action. Not a minute later, the break-in would have been accomplished if the owner had not started unlocking the apartment from the inside. With a sigh, Leeman quickly put his tools away. It''s good to remember the past once in a while and not let your skills rust. - Bro, I hope you didn''t start breaking down my door? Opening the door, a man in his early twenties showed up. Dirty blond hair covered in soot, brown eyes with bags underneath that were an order of magnitude an order of magnitude smaller than Leeman''s. What stood out from the general appearance of the city were his clothes. The same the same T-shirt and jeans Leeman wore, maybe even woven on the same loom. on the same loom. Only they were embroidered with landscapes of the city that Leeman himself had never seen - Wait another five seconds and you''d know, Danis. - He answered as Liman entered the apartment. Walking through the door, Liman went to the kitchen. His eyes scrutinized the kitchen window, recalling the incident of a week ago. Danis''s kitchen, as always, was furnished with various plants, herbs, but there were no flowering plants among them because of Danis''s allergy to to them. - I didn''t think you''d still be interested in Alice''s death. We''ve talked about it a hundred times. By bad luck she fell out of the window. - Said Danis, finishing his steaming tea in the kitchen. - She flew down with her debts. Alice''s death had been traumatic for Danis, especially her debt to him of several thousand, the repayment of which he could only dream of repaying. - A failed seamstress? - It happens, relaxed and bang. - With a wave of his hands, Danis said. - It''s tragic that I''m now under police surveillance for her death. - Something on her face before she fell doesn''t give me peace. - He wouldn''t stop Liman continued Of the two of them, Leeman stood closer to her and saw what Danis didn''t. saw what Danis didn''t. The fear frozen on her face. He could clearly see her neck was clenched by something, pressed thinly together. - And what did you see there on her face? - Her face was first colored with horror, and then she fell. After taking one last look at the window, Leeman stepped away from it and pulled out the pills he''d gotten from the doctor. Danis smiled with a full mouth when he saw the pills. Putting the bills on the table, he took one packet from Liman. - I''ll finally get a good night''s sleep." Danis said with with anticipation, taking the white pills out of the packet. Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation. -You''re not the only one, give me your prescription, too-" Liman answered him. Liman, putting the bills in the secret pocket of his T-shirt, which dumbfounded Danis. - Yeah! Your orphanage attitude never ceases to amaze me. -Don''t be surprised in this life, it''s good for your nerves. - Liman said, showing Danis the extra bill. - When you! - Clapping his pockets, Danis was indignant. - This is the delivery fee. Liman put the extracted bill with the others in his pocket and closed the and closed it with a zipper. - I''d have no business with you if it weren''t for these sleeping pills. Danis took the pills and used a spoon to crush them into a powder. into a powder. - Why don''t you go to the help center yourself? - Liman asked to Danis. - I used to go there a lot before, but one day I looked at their eyes. their eyes. To the resulting powder Danis added some herbs. - They don''t look at you as a person. As an object, a thing. I told them my life, my fears and the memories that keep me awake. to sleep. And I didn''t see any sympathy in those eyes. - You''re like a child, do you need sympathy? For I can give you a pat on the back myself. - Smirked at him Liman. - It''s not me, it''s them. - Stirring the herbs with the powder, Danis sprinkled the mixture evenly into glasses and poured warm water. At some point, Liman and Danis had run out of the dosage of prescription medication. Taking more pills would give them a not-so-desirable eternal sleep. The herbs Danis grew had a soporific effect that was not as as the prescription pills. If you mix the herbs and the pills, the mixture would fit Danis and Lehman''s needs perfectly. - That''s how my father looked at me. - Danis continued to speculate. - He was a psychopath. Liman faked a serious face as he sipped his brew. He doesn''t to sympathize with him, they only had a business relationship. - I know those eyes. To them, you''re just a momentary interest. A body that might give off the desired reaction. - Damir''s hands trembled violently as he held the cup, in one motion he drank the liquid, it did not in the least calmed him down. - If you are a needy man to be touched by their hands, it is only for themselves! He doesn''t hide in front of you either, letting you see what drives him. Danis threw the cup away, it crashed into the flower pot, shattering with it. Liman''s face changed, Danis was going too far in his reflection. in his reflection. - Why the fuck doesn''t anyone in this world help those who are who are crying out for help! Why does he torture me with chains and they call me the beast and not him- me and not him- Danis shouted in the face of his illusory interlocutor, spewing out his emotions. A palm strike to the face sounded in the kitchen. - I don''t know about me, but you definitely need to go to a help center. - Liman sobered him up with a slap. The slap had the effect of calming Danis down. - Still, why so eager to see him again? - Danis his head down with his hands, staring at the table. After a couple minutes of silence, Danis raised his head, looking at Liman, who was staring dejectedly at the kitchen window. - It''s not for you to say who needs treatment. - Yeah? Why''s that? - Turned his bored look on him. Liman. Danis was the best eye-reader in the world, and looking into Liman''s green. Liman''s scarred green eyes, he could only exhale. - Forget it, it''s time for our meeting to wrap up... - Trying to stand up, Danis immediately fell down. Liman jumped up to him in surprise. Danis'' limp body made it easy to roll himself over. - Get up, come on! Leeman trudged and slapped his face, but there was no response but there was no response. - Did he mix the wrong herbs? - Reasoned Leeman, continuing to shaking the body. Liman had never found himself in this situation before. The only thing was to drag Danis to the bathroom. As Liman dragged the rather weighty body, his eyes blurred. (Stay awake, stay awake!) Yesterday Liman had dreamed of plunging into the realm of dreams, today he was struggling to stay awake, biting his tongue. Danis in his hands was getting heavier and heavier, before it became became completely unsupportable, Liman still dragged him to the bathroom and threw him into the the bathroom. With absent-minded movements of his hands, Leeman turned on the water. The black liquid began filling the rusty tub. Liman, frightened, wanted to move away from it, but he couldn''t. but he couldn''t. The two men lay in the tub, unconscious, the black water slowly engulfed them. In a minute they had completely disappeared beneath it.