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

wings flicker on advertising screens.

      Some wretched creatures that look like starving vagabonds crawl out from under the sewers, from basements, from dark corners between supermarkets. They look like gray relics, stained with ash. And suddenly, frayed wings open behind them.

      “Athenais always wins,” the dark-skinned pursuer whispers already very close, putting his claws on the boy’s shoulder.

      “Let it be so, but why pursue me?”

      “Self-interest is punishable.”

      He already paid for the autograph in blood. Where else to punish? Anton looked around at Moscow crowded with fallen legions of demons. The feeling was that he got inside the film on the same set with Athenais. But she herself was not there. She stayed in a fashionable hotel with people. And he somehow got straight into the heat.

      As beautiful as a fresco

      Michael woke up with the feeling that he was still in the temple. Many tired people feel even in their sleep that they are still sitting at work. This déjà vu is understandable, as the doctor explained to him. But why is it not connected with the fulfillment of everyday work duty, but with a rare visit to the churches empty after the service?

      It’s like someone is waiting there.

      But Michael was no longer going to church. What for? After all, the fresco, which he loved so much to look at, was mercilessly mutilated by restorers after renovation. Nothing remained of the beautiful angelic face, except for the picture, layered with fresh colors, mediocre. Sometimes updates are only harmful.

      Together with the fresco, it was as if part of him had been destroyed. His soul was empty. This is probably why his conscience once woke up in him, and he did something that a secret service employee did not have the right to do – he forgot about his duty, so as not to feel selfish.

      That same night he had a strange dream. Someone winged and incredibly handsome was present nearby.

      “You did what no one else would have done. I admire you and owe you,” the divine voice whispered on the verge of reality and dream. “What do you want? Only wish!”

      Sounds like drug intoxication as it is described! He himself never tested such euphoria, because he did not use any prohibited substances. He tried not even to drink energy drinks and alcohol in order to have a sober head. Where do hallucinations come from?

      What did he do? He went after a strange fakir in a wild country, suspecting him of conspiracy with local terrorists. The man climbed the walls like a monkey. Well, okay. What circus performers do not exist! He went into the temple, smashed idols, overheard someone else’s conspiracy, somehow understanding languages that he had not even learned.

      It was like a nightmare. But the agreements and the work done during the day were real. A couple of conversations, strong hints, a few forced killings. The interests of foreign countries, not just the homeland, were at stake, but he intervened anyway. His colleagues would have condemned him if they knew. Perhaps he was able to prevent something terrible, like world war, nuclear attack, destruction of an entire nation. So what? Any Christian would do the same. But he was an employee of a serious organization, not a holy fool from the porch. He needs to remember that even people in robes can be used solely for intelligence purposes, if he took them with him.

      What’s done is done. He did not report anything to anyone. There was a risk of being tortured himself if his hastily thought up plan failed. He behaved lightly. He was lucky that he was alone on the trip.

      Now he was alone in the bedroom, because the woman he loved had long since died. For a second, a crazy thought arose in Mikhail’s brain: what if he really had one magical desire? Would he have spent it to resurrect Iliana?

      He almost wished it, but changed his mind in time. Why remember the traitor? Better to forget. Fantastic desires are still unrealizable. Unless only on the screen of the cinema, but he has not gone to the cinema for a long time.

      But the authorities demanded from him that he contacted one outstanding movie star and extorted all her secrets. He was not usually involved in this kind of work, although he knew that sometimes celebrities were used for espionage purposes. Only this time, the hint was a much more serious threat. Mikhail did not believe that because of which actress something irreparable could happen, but an order is an order. It needs to be done. The photo of the star could not be attached to the instructions. Mikhail himself easily found it in the very first newspaper that was handed out in the subway passage. The girl’s resemblance to the drawings of angels struck him unpleasantly. He saw the same face in a fresco in the cathedral that was no longer in existence. Here it is! Printed on cheap offset paper! Here it looks even more beautiful than it was on the wall under the dome. So why isn’t he glad to see him again? Something deathly, frightening came from the face of the movie star. Next to such sublime beauty, a person begins to feel like just an insect.

      Why, in connection with such divine beauty, did wars, terrorist attacks, torture and murder climb into his head? He drank all of this. His work was intense. For the peace of the whole world, sometimes it was necessary to show tactlessness and cruelty.

      In his free time, he could only sit for hours on the curb of the Friendship of Nations fountain at VDNKh and ponder why people only think about enmity, war and strife. The golden figures of different nations stand together so peacefully, but living humanity needs conflicts. And he has to resolve these conflicts.

      So today he went to the main entrance of VDNKh, clutching a newspaper with the fatal photo in his hand, sat down on the edge of the fountain, and almost fell into the water, noticing that the central of the golden figures had turned into a movie star from the newspaper, looking like an angel. The golden wings opened behind her, the golden body arched proudly upward, golden eyes stared at him.

      It just so happened that a movie star named Athenais played exclusively the role of angels. But she was definitely not a sculpture. The golden hand reached out to Mikhail. The pool of the fountain, which shared it with the statues, was huge, but there was a feeling that a hand made of gold touched and burned him.

      Where did the golden girl in the national Russian costume, kokoshnik and with a sheaf of ears of corn in her fingers go? Why does he see a living winged body of gold instead?

      Mikhail pulled out his weapon and scared everyone. He had to explain to the guards and show his ID. He had the right to bear arms, but he did not have the right to hallucinations. When performing, he needs a sober quick-witted head, and he behaves like a mental patient.

      He used to have dinner at eateries near the fountain, but today his appetite is gone.

      “You want blood,” someone annoying whispered over his ear. “Blood is our food, and you are one of us! You killed the woman you loved because she was not of your race, but of a human race. Your path lies in the Cathedral of Thunder. Your food is the blood of people. You should have eaten Iliana’s heart when you killed her. Then you would already be with us.”

      Hot sweat ran down his forehead. Michael brushed it off. He walked at random, passed the Stone Flower fountain and found himself at the pavilions, which had a fountain with a rocket and models of old planes. He needed the other way. From here you can only go to the Botanical Garden, which in former times was the estate of the Sheremetyevs, and from there you can take a bus to the outskirts of Moscow rather than to the center. Now his dwelling is in the center. It is comfortable and convenient there, not like in rented apartments where he used to hang out. He needs to return to the massive arch of the main entrance. Behind it are the planetarium and the road to the metro. He would have driven around the city by car, if not for frequent traffic jams.

      As a child, he and Iliana walked around the Botanical Garden and Ostankino Park exclusively on foot. The walk stretched for many kilometers, but it was pleasant. As a child, Iliana was empty-headed and outgoing; when she grew up, she became selfish. She took flowers and gifts for granted. What is loyalty, she did not understand at all. If he had