Devil’s Cinema. Crypt of the Seven Angels. Natalie Yacobson

even the cellular connection went off. It would not be bad to call someone now and ask for help. Although the situation is funny. He is a grown man and suddenly he cannot find his way. This had never happened to him before. And now it was like the devil was leading him astray. And these strange voices from the thickets… He definitely heard voices! Not one, but many.

      “Blood for the roots!”

      “Blood for her!”

      “Blood for the captives!”

      “Blood for those who are imprisoned in the bark!”

      “Your blood!”

      These someone smelled his blood like predators! Why then do they have human voices? But he did not see faces. And nowhere were there even wandering lights about which there are terrible beliefs in the villages, supposedly they lure travelers into swamps or to a cliff.

      So who is talking to him? He hasn’t been drunk for a long time, so that he imagines it. The alcohol weathered away, but even in a drunken state, Daniel had no such illusions. In addition, unlike most movie stars, he never dabbled in drugs or suffered from severe mental disorders in his life. He even had a desire for suicide for quite objective reasons: career failure and debts! He still did not suffer from any painful visions.

      The instinct of self-preservation prompted him to run away from here. But where? All around is an empty highway and dense thickets on its outskirts. By the way, a voice called from the thickets again. Surprised that this time he called by name. As if there was no acting nickname behind which the young man hid for many years, hiding the vicious secrets of his family. A voice clearly pronounced his real baptismal name.

      “Daniel!”

      The children’s round dance had long since disappeared from sight, but the moonlight drew some bizarre signs on the road. Somebody said.

      “You need to cut your veins near a tree or kill someone so that the blood sprinkles the roots. Lightning will flash, gates will open somewhere more beautiful than which you have never seen, and she will come. You want to kneel in front of her too, right? How is everything before you? Remember that we will all come after her. Just let us in!”

      Daniel turned around, jerking to grab the one behind. The feeling was that some teenager stood on tiptoe and could hardly reach his ear to give delusional instructions. Sounds like a cruel joke! But where is the joker himself? Behind Daniel, of course, it was empty. And there is nowhere to hide, except thickets.

      The voices were still calling him. Now from somewhere in the depths of the thickets. It is dangerous to go there. But he turned like a fool. You need to behave like a daredevil at least once in your life. This is reckless, you can fall into a trap or a trap set for hares. Daniel did not think about it because he noticed faces in the dark. A whole host of faces who grimaced, laughed, shouted, writhed in agony or hysteria. And all these faces were carved into the trunk of a huge age-old tree. The ash-colored bark did not need the beams of a flashlight, because it somehow flickered. Daniel could see every detail. The inscriptions embossed on the bottom of the bark read: Memorial to the fall! Monument to the uprising! Monument to the fall! Tree of the fall! House of ashes! Ashes of Alais’s army!

      What does all this mean? Each inscription was located at a short distance from the other, but for some reason the feeling was created that they all mean the same thing.

      The entire trunk along the perimeter was excised by faces, figures, the outlines of wings, which seemed to be about to burst from the bark and flap. Even the large bitches and branches were trimmed in the shape of heads and horned faces. Not a tree, but a whole museum in the forest. Can there be a student of a sculptor or woodcarver who practices away from people on the first material that comes across? Get someone genius enough to make fantasy figures for movies! His woodwork was truly epic.

      Just what kind of tree is this? Elm? Beech? Ash? Or just a group of accreted secular trees? More like the latter. The tree was about the size of a large house. How long does it take to get around it from all sides?

      “Just don’t go around, otherwise you will join us ahead of time.”

      “Better use the blade. You’ve already started cutting yourself!”

      “Finish what you started!”

      “And she will come!”

      Did the faces speak? There is no one besides them! But they are silent! Their lips never seemed to move. Daniel touched one of the faces with his fingers and gasped in pain. The impression was as if a wooden mouth, open either in a scream or in a throat, bit him. There was a smear of ash on my finger. Where is the ash on the bark? Was there a fire here? But nothing nearby burned down. All the trees around are intact, and the smell of burning is not felt. And there is ash. And there is a lot of it. It is worth touching a tree with your hand, and all the skin is in ashes. And the bark under the palm vibrates, as if the figures inside it move and are torn to freedom. They are all winged, clawed, horned, in a word, monstrous – as soon as they break free, they will sweep away the whole world.

      Better to get out of here. Blood from his finger dripped onto the roots, and they vibrated in a strange way. Daniel got entangled in them, but it felt like they were gripping his feet. As he had not noticed before that the tree has such powerful roots, which, moreover, protrude from the soil and curl up in balls like thick snakes.

      One leg got stuck in the roots so hard that it was not possible to free it without losing the boot. Daniel backed away, and whispers and rustling emanated from the bark, dotted with many faces and figures. It looks like the rustling of hundreds of wings. But definitely not wooden, but alive! One face of the winged creature at the top of the trunk was unusually attractive, but it also seemed to him the most sinister. An instant and wooden eyes flew open. His bark lips twisted into a smile.

      He had enough impressions for tonight, Daniel decided, deftly stepping over the stirring roots. Their movements were sluggish.

      “He shed too little blood!”

      The young man himself plugged his ears so as not to hear the tempting voice and ran away, leaving the lost boot in his roots.

      The boots were expensive. Well, let! They are not the last in his life. But life itself can be lost if you continue to hang out in such dubious places.

      Some well-wisher, capable of taking him to the city, showed up only closer to morning. He did not recognize the celebrity he met, but he willingly talked about the boredom of local life, but as soon as he asked him about the ghost trees and children’s mental hospitals nearby, the driver quickly tried to get Daniel out of his wretched SUV.

      The guy got to the pavilion, where the shooting will begin today, half asleep and in only one surviving boot. His head was buzzing, he himself staggered slightly. Affected night wakefulness. They didn’t even have makeup done. Why waste efforts in vain on someone who will soon faint.

      “Go sleep it off! In the meantime, we will shoot scenes with Jane,” the director advised him. “But tomorrow, be kind, get in shape. You don’t want someone to replace you, do you?”

      “This someone will have to travel here for a long time, and there is a risk that he will get lost on the way,” retorted Daniel.

      “Not everyone drinks as much as you!”

      “True, many people prefer to indulge in much more harmful drugs than just alcohol.”

      The director had nothing to answer to this, so he pretended not to notice Daniel’s usual impudence and generally did not have free time to continue the argument.

      Daniel glanced at the unfamiliar, but very famous woman who will play with him in pairs. It’s good if this pair relationship is not forced to save after filming. Jane looked predatory. He didn’t like her at once. But he had to pretend that he, too, admired her. A young woman with connections like hers was simply doomed to become a star. And it doesn’t matter how much money her patrons spent on bribing the press and critics. Daniel