Film About the Demon. Daughter of the Dawn. Natalie Yacobson

a jacket, nor even his own skin, scarred by branches. And he almost did not regret that he had wandered into the thicket after her.

      The only question that haunted him was: why did she come here herself, and all alone. They said in this very forest, there is a section where people most often commit suicide. Probably, the site was fenced off here for shooting the next horror film with Athenais. In such a wilderness, you can neither pay rent for a place, nor get a special permit. There is no one to control it anyway. The nearest police stations are miles away. The place has too bad a reputation for anyone from the surrounding settlements to wander here.

      Didn’t it seem to him that Athenais was heading here? Her golden head had long since disappeared from sight, and he wandered at random. The brushwood crunched underfoot. How many fallen branches all around!

      “It would be nice to make a grand fire here to cleanse everything with fire,” someone whispered over his ear, and immediately there was a long dull sigh. “Although not worth it, the first time he fire did not clear anything, only infuriated.”

      Rick glanced at the screen of the extinct iPhone. He did not vibrate. The sounds are definitely not from an audio device inside the phone. They rang out from above. Above, only the crowns of trees and a glimpse of the sky, illuminated by a crescent. There are not even birds. Did he hear only a whisper in the rustle of leaves? There are also auditory hallucinations. True, he still did not suffer from them, but fatigue could provoke them. You can’t go that long. He rubbed his feet with blood and calluses. How did Athenais not get tired on the way? A couple of hours ago, he saw from afar her silhouette and how easily she varied between the trees, as if she were flying.

      The flashlight in the iPhone went out. Probably out of charge. The total darkness scared him a little. Rick groped forward. A faint light flickered somewhere far away. It feels like roaming lights have settled there. It’s good if they don’t lead to the next swamp.

      The shimmer led to a huge, spreading tree that must have taken up tens of meters. Probably, this is a whole group of intertwined trees, and somewhere inside the interlocking crowns, a ghostly light seems to flicker. Carved faces, horned heads and groups of angelic figures stand out along the perimeter of the huge trunk. So this is not a tree, but a dummy for shooting! And the star is here! Rick noticed from afar the curly back of Athenais’s head. The curls of her hair sparkled like solar threads. It couldn’t have all the flicker come from them.

      Why is he surprised? There is nothing natural about movie stars. False eyelashes, dyed hair, skillful makeup instead of a beautiful face. So the thicket, where the star mysteriously sneaked into, actually turned out to be a film set. Where are the filming cameras? There is a backlight. But where does it come from? Not from above, as it should be when shooting such scenes. From somewhere inside. Really from the inside of a tree. Or does it just seem so?

      “I still love you.”

      Athenais was caressing someone who was hidden by a dense century-old trunk. So she has a secret love date here? Who would have thought? It’s a pity he doesn’t have a camera with him. Although the iPhone has a camera. Quality, not very good, but worth a try. The iPhone cracked right in his hand. Why did he become so fragile? He must have touched something sharp with his jacket pocket, and the protective glass on the screen shattered to smithereens. How fragile expensive things are!

      Athenais was in no hurry. There were no bodyguards or escorts with her. She’s not scared here alone? And who is this with her? How to consider it and not attract attention to yourself? A branch snapped so inappropriately underfoot, but Athenais did not even turn around. She was too carried away by her lover. Or lovers? A whispering, polyphonic choir was heard behind the tree. Probably an echo. Although where does it come from among the dense branches? Maybe someone has Internet connection on their cell phone in their pocket, and voices come from some audio program. This can explain the fact that they are somehow unnatural.

      From the side it seemed that Athenais was gently stroking the bark of a tree with her hand. The gestures were touching and seductive. What would he not give for her affection! But she was not caressing him. Some stranger.

      “I love you very much. Do not consider yourself abandoned and forgotten,” she repeated, as if she was reciting the prayer by heart.

      “Before you didn’t love anyone,” a handsome male voice was like the rustle of ash.

      “Since the tragedy happened, I realized that I really love you,” Athenais pressed her clean forehead to the charred tree bark. Or to someone’s shoulder? Rick rubbed his eyes. He began to see poorly. It was getting darker all around. Only the curls and skin of the movie star, who wandered into the forest, continued to flicker, as if she was all illuminated from the inside.

      “What a score! If you had not lost the war, I would not have understood the depth of my feelings. When you really love someone, you realize this, not when he shines in the sky or, for example, even on a modern screen, but when he, burnt and tormented, falls at your feet.”

      Rick shuddered. What is she talking about? War? Burns? It seems like it was a long time ago. Her lover returned from Iran, from Chechnya? Where is the war going on now? Stop, lost war. Lost by whom?

      What if the movie star is confused with terrorists? Then she and her friend pose a danger, and she herself has nothing to fear. This is probably why she behaves so freely in the thicket at night. Any normal person here would tremble with fear. And on love dates, no psycho will come here. You can expect anything from movie stars. They scurry around the world, communicate with politicians, build intrigues, can become someone’s political pawns.

      The dialogue did not resemble a learned role. Every word trumpeted danger. In addition, Athenais spoke without any expression, as if she was remembering pain.

      “You were tortured, you were burned, but you became more desirable to me as monsters than you would be angels. Monsters can protect, and they are true. But Michael and Gabriel were not faithful, but our era is coming. I will release you soon. Remember that my love is enough for all of you. And the sacrifice is already coming.”

      Athenais leaned over and kissed either the bark of a tree, or someone who had been hidden from Rick by the branches.

      “I’ll come again and bring you some stupid guys from the studio: cameramen or extras. Young and pretty. Old flesh is not healthy or tasty.”

      Several voices seemed to laugh back at once. Laughter is like the rustle of leaves or the rustle of ash in a cold fire.

      “Better bring your fans. The tastiest of all are those who imagine themselves to be the likeness of your first army.”

      A knowing smile lit up Athenais’s beautiful face. She understood what it was about, but Rick did not. But no one invited him to participate in the conversation. He was listening because he accidentally wandered in here. He must leave before they find him. Suddenly, her guys will really be bandits or terrorists, armed to the teeth. Too often they talk about struggle and torture. The report would have come out excellent: “a star meets villains.” But life is more precious than a sensation.

      It’s time to wash away, but Athenais was already leaving by herself, and oddly enough, no one followed her. Rick waited ten minutes. Not a sound, not a word, not a rustle, not a sigh. There is nobody in the thicket near the huge tree. Emboldened, he came out of hiding, took out a tiny flashlight attached to the key ring. There was definitely something engraved on the trunk of the tree, like on a memorial stone. Some kind of inscriptions, patterns, even images of faces. You need to come back here in the afternoon, and consider everything in detail, even take photos. This is not a tree, but a whole work of art. You might even think that it is not real, but stolen from the museum, if not for its size. Such a whopper cannot be stolen, and the powerful roots, even though partially stick out from the ground, have settled tightly in the soil.

      Rick touched the prints with the faces of horned demons, monsters, and evil fairies. Sumptuously! Top class images. What genius carved them right in the bark? And why are they black? After all,