Film About the Demon. Daughter of the Dawn

Waynes himself did not understand why they were keeping him in the studio, a couple of secretaries, and even some black cripple named Eric, who could hardly walk on crutches. Erik was practically crawling, not walking. What’s the use of it? What is the point in contracts for films, where there are no names of actors and working filming, except for one name – Athenais!

Waynes suspected he was being hired for show. He knew that there were money laundering scams, but could there be a scam to launder a contract with ghosts? If so, he was hired to do just that. One living name among the many dashes in the treaty acts already looked like an excuse. Since there is one live employee at the film studio, it means that not all of it still belongs to ghosts.

Waynes knew a little about financial gambling. Before Honore, he worked with people who used movies and various celebrity charities to launder money from the left. Complete immorality and even criminality was often hidden behind the chic screen of stardom. But Athenais was above that. But her dishonest competitors from ruin were not saved by their adventures.

Waynes stealthily crept into Honore’s office, cracked the codes on the safes, looked through all the reports. No shameless transactions and double-entry bookkeeping! All revenues came exclusively from films. Not even an advertisement! It looks like a fairy tale! Typically, movie stars survive on promotions. Movies don’t make much money. Even if they turned out to be very successful, after the deduction of a share to the distributors and taxes, the creators have only a tiny percentage of the profits left. Athenais became an exception to all the rules. She ripped off the entire cash register. She paid no taxes at all, probably because of her connections with politicians. And the entire network of the latest fashionable cinemas with the mysterious ancient Egyptian name “Akhetaton” has long belonged to her. So who was the owner of the film studio with her? Everyone knew Honore as her sponsor. But is it really so?

There were no guards around, but someone here was definitely guarding everything. Waynes chickened out at the shuffling footsteps and hid all the documents back. He did not take anything with him and did not copy, however, someone started violent attacks on him.

With the onset of dusk, the empty film studio became scary. Someone was crawling along behind Waynes in the dark, and not only on the floor, but also on the ceiling. A couple of times the guy was caught in a black sticky web, which he hardly managed to break. And once, some creatures pounced on him in the dark and brutally tore them with claws. He woke up all in scratches, and for a moment it seemed to him that the same crippled Negro was crawling along the ceiling, which was running like a shadow for Athenais. He looked like a huge, shapeless spider, clinging to the ceiling with deformed limbs. He was angry, but the vision only lasted a moment.

It’s time to get out of this studio! He was not going to endure all this horror for the sake of one salary. Let all these are just the effects of lighting and editing, but after them there is a risk of ending up in a psychiatric hospital.

Several expensive cameras cracked and blackened in the lens, and the tripods felt like fire.

“She was filming the fire of Rome,” a creature lurking in the darkness explained with a snide laugh. “As if we haven’t seen enough of this before, but you haven’t seen it yet…”

Waynes did not answer him. He was not going to communicate with someone who was not officially listed in the staff of the film studio. So you can get confused with a gang of mafia. You never know who brought the diva to the shooting. A success like Athenais’s was probably based on something very risky.

The strange hunched creature twisted the cameras with its claws, as if it were the operator itself. But the broken lenses are no longer removed. It was necessary to warn him about this, but Neil did not waste words on the stranger. In addition, he behaved so self-confidently, as if he knew that broken cameras would be filmed for him, as if by magic.

The time was late. It was already possible to go home, but Waynes decided that he would write a letter of resignation right now. A muted orange light was pouring from the studio head’s office. So Honor is now at his workplace. Fine! And then he rarely appears here.

Waynes stopped before knocking. The door was ajar. Through the gap formed, one could see the golden head of Athenais. What is she doing at such a time in the studio of the owner of the film studio? Is it really the old fashioned way, as is customary in the world of show business – a star and a sponsor lover? Does not look like it. They are separated by a massive walnut table. And at the head of the table is Athenais, not her employer.

Everything around is somehow strange, as if special effects are about to turn on. The tension in the air is growing noticeably. The owner of the film studio is very nervous and scratches his own hands with nails until they bleed. Some unusual black animals are crawling along the curtains. And not cats, and not monkeys, but their skins are like coals. They seemed to be taken out of the oven. And their claws are like knives. There were obviously some special effects. Although why did they give up in the office. They usually negotiate here, not make films. Even a manual camera is not visible nearby.

“Did you really think you could keep the demon under control?”

Athenais’s voice was calm, not in the least mocking, but somehow it seemed that she was about to burst into laughter.

“There were plans…” Her boss was shivering.

“The king of Persia Kambiz also had. He wanted to see miracles, I showed him hell. It all began with the fact that his magician Gaumata reported to him that a deity lives in the desert that can be taken under control. I was poorly oriented then. I woke up for the first time after wearing in Egypt.”

Why is she retelling the plot of the film with her participation? He watched this movie. It was called “Daughter of Sunset”. There was a beautiful scene with King Darius on a bloodied bed after the ritual. He, like his predecessor, sought the love of a fallen angel. Alais was gentle with him, but cold: “I love you, but my passion burned out along with the beauty of my fallen angelic legion,” sounded in the frames. What if she repeats this to anyone who tries to get her favored off-screen? She seems to have gotten used to the role a lot. The sinister demonic makeup has not been washed away yet. Her face looked like smooth alabaster without moles, without wrinkles. What kind of powder does her make-up artist use to achieve this effect?

What she was saying now sounded like a monologue from some new script in the old style of mystical horror. But why was the owner of the film studio playing along with her?

“I, of course, apologize to you,” he fidgeted in his chair, “but I was told that summoning the devil is the same as a genie. There are certain rules.”

“There are no more rules!”

Did Athenais smoke? Somehow it doesn’t look like it. Fire escapes from her lips, not smoke. Neither a lighter nor a pack of cigarettes are visible on the table.

“And they were once? Was there any way to hold you back?” the sly notes in the voice of her interlocutor were hard not to distinguish.

Athenais smiled wryly. How good she is! Despite the pallor and inexpressive features. Her face was like a perfect mask, on which only eyelashes and eyebrows stand out in bright gold.

“You counted on this when you summoned the demon to raise the rating of your ruined film studio? When was blood poured over the Fall Memorial? When were you looking for a many-sided tree in the forest?”

This is no longer a dialogue, but most likely a plot for the next film. Then why does the owner of the film studio look so ashamed?

“Why did you miss the blood of former stars? Did you want mine from the start? Is it only the blood of the one who calls that matters?”

“Your call was hard not to hear. It was filled with such despair. People go crazy for money. And your studio is almost ruined, as well as many others, but only you called me. It doesn’t matter who advised you. You approached me voluntarily, but I did not respond. I wanted to sleep. I didn’t want to return to this world where everything is so gray and unattractive, except for my films. You didn’t need to wake me up. Then these films would not exist. The door to my world would not open through them. And your world would stand for a couple of centuries longer. This is what the Taor society and then the Templars fought for. It was so important for them to knock out this little at the cost of the lives of the elect – to postpone my coming to power by a century or two. They treasured the existence of humanity, no matter how tired and plain it was. And you called yourself. Here is the business risk. Making a lucrative movie for you is more important than saving the planet.”

“Don’t judge people! You are from a race in which they do not know what it means to have a fragile vulnerable body, to grow old, suffer, starve, suffer from thirst and endure the attacks of creditors.”

“Hungry and thirst, perhaps, unfamiliar instincts, but we know what it is to suffer,” Athenais nodded at the creatures that climbed the curtains and even on the ceiling. “And we know what it means to burn alive.”

“Those creatures inside the tree… Will they eventually break free and start acting in your films as burnt angels falling from heaven? Or will they break free for another? Someday one movie will not be enough for you. And they are hungry. They will easily finish off all those whom your films have not yet seduced.”

“The passage from world to world is not a tree of many faces, but screens of cinemas where my films are shown. If so far not all have watched them, this does not mean that it will also be in the future.”

Pass! A door! He felt that someone’s teeth, sharp as needles, closed in the palm of his hand. He looked down. Was the fancy keyhole molded in the shape of the manticore mouth malfunctioning? Couldn’t she bite him? It turned out to be impossible to free the hand.

“I smell blood!” Athenais’s voice caressed the ear. “It is a pity that not near the tree. It would be more reasonable there.”

He expected to see her next to him now. Her scarlet robe was already sliding down the aisle, but something black, scorched and winged, appeared near the door, as if it had come off a movie screen. It was tall, like a giant, with limbs like powerful tree branches. His cracked skin looked like the bark of a scorched tree. It reached out to him with dry black fingers, but there was nowhere to run. The keyhole caught the hand like a trap. And the creature at the door, alas, was not a special effect. And the smell of blood attracted him very much.

Bloody process

Egypt, excavations, Valley of the Kings

Something went wrong. Routine archaeological excavations have become hell. Voices were heard in the night over the tents, vague monstrous silhouettes flashed in the distance.

Several employees disappeared. And Leah was so passionate about her work that she didn’t even notice it. It is much more important for her to dig another discreet artifact out of the sand and mud than to contact the authorities and inform that people are missing from the excavations.

How could a girl be appointed head of the expedition? As expert as she is, she is still a woman. All her academic degrees do not change this.

Neil decided to take matters into his own hands. All you have to do is make a few calls or get to the city.

Leah, although not a white-handed, but a terrible bore. Sometimes you can’t get a word out of it. It’s a pity, she’s a young woman with great prospects and good looks, except for a strawberry patch on her cheek. Neil would have an affair with her, even though he was not a supporter of office romances. At home his wife and son were waiting for him, and Leah turned out to be a real ice statue. She didn’t like men at all, but she was not a lesbian either. She is asexual, like most scientists, who so much burden the brain that the attraction to carnal pleasures disappears. In addition, Leah did not abuse her connections at embassies and consulates. This means, as from a girlfriend, there will be no benefit from her. She also preferred not to disturb the police, holding a weapon for self-defense near her sleeping bag. She is ready to attack the camp. But Neil did not want to become a victim of robbers or terrorists.

He thought that by evening he would reach the settlements. It wasn’t like that. The city of the dead did not seem to let him go. All around are dunes and pyramids. Wherever he went, the road either turned back, or stretched forward indefinitely.

He probably turned the wrong way. When the whole expedition got to the excavation, it took much less time than now. Doesn’t he know how to use a navigator? It was also difficult to navigate the map. It seems that he was driving in the right direction and would have continued driving if the gasoline had not run out.

It was getting dark. Neil had to get out of the comfortable car and walk. Leah was probably right when she didn’t want to let him go. Cellular communication has been interrupted. Neil was left trapped in the sands alone.

The time was too late to receive sunstroke. The sun is no longer at its zenith. It’s getting dark too fast in the desert. So why does he have the feeling that his brains are melting from the sun? A figure in red flickers between the dunes. A monstrous face flickers under the red hood.

It seemed to Neil that real gold jewelry and coins were sparkling in the sand under his feet, but leaning over he found only bones there. He hoped they weren’t human.

Are jackals or some other predators roaming around here? He hadn’t heard the howl yet, but it got dark instantly. The constellations that poured out in the sky resembled bizarre inscriptions.

“Go to the session,” someone whispered. “There are many cinemas. They have films about us.”

If anyone was around, Neil would have punched him. How can you scoff at the unfortunate stray traveler like that?! He, of course, would like to sit in a comfortable chair, eat popcorn and quench his thirst with Coca-Cola. Only all this is impossible. After all, there are definitely no cinemas in the desert. They, for sure, are not present in most of the Egyptian cities. He didn’t check it himself, though. In Luxor he was passing through and did not see a single cinema there. And here lay the desert. It is located somewhere in the Valley of the Kings area, or at least not far from it. It is also called the City of the Dead, because the pharaohs were buried here for centuries. Each pyramid is a tomb, not just an exquisite museum for tourists. This should be remembered. The dead are all around. They must be respected. Well, robbers of royal tombs can also hang around here. Neil remembered them when he noticed something like a party near the opened tomb. A bright electric light poured from the opening that replaced the entrance. Someone inside was laughing. The dancing shadows resembled horned mythical creatures.

Robbers don’t behave like that. Most likely this is an alien group of archaeologists who made an important discovery. And now they are celebrating. It’s worth joining them.

He entered the pyramid and seemed to go to hell. A bloody mess was squelching underfoot. Either creatures, or jackals ate the remains of human bodies. Some bastards were crawling on the sand. Someone was drawing hieroglyphs on the floor. But the most terrible were the murders – real murders and tortures that he saw with his own eyes. A camera was working somewhere. Hence the light. Who has not heard of torture studios, where the real torture of the actors-victims is secretly filmed. And this happens not in some nook, but in dilapidated tombs, where tourists can appear during the day. Bloody debris flopped under his feet, clearly thrown from above. Something was crawling and groaning along the ceiling. The other dexterous creatures on the floor only vaguely resembled charred monkeys. They not only tormented the victims, but also devoured them alive. These are some kind of mutants, not otherwise. A whole horde of sand mutants. One beautiful creature among them nevertheless appeared. It bent over a completely opened and still living body, and cut it not with a knife or scalpel, but with its own claws. It sparkled like gold. All of it was completely phosphorescent, including the growth behind the back, like wings. Even the nails, sharp as knives, were gold. And the victim under them either lost his tongue, or could not scream.

He was dumbfounded. This is a crime, not archeology. Even in the middle of a wild country, which he stubbornly believed today’s civilized Egypt, it is still a crime.

“What are you doing?”

The handsome creature chuckled, and the creatures under his feet giggled insolently, as if laughing.

“Do not you see?” it raised a questioningly golden eyebrow. “We’re making a film.”

He actually noticed several other portable cameras in the corners. One of them seemed to hang in the dark. Shooting is so shooting, but they are documentary. The bodies writhing in agony are not a fake. They are bleeding. The sand absorbs blood. The cameras work, absorbing the scenes of hell like a sponge.

He did not have time to accuse anyone out loud of murder and sadism, but the handsome creature answered his unspoken question with the same mockery:

“Art requires sacrifice, as you can see.”

How easily it altered the meaning of established earthly expressions.

Not such victims, he wanted to say. Although it depends on what art to keep in mind. Something hellish was filmed here.

He didn’t have time to guess, because the golden creature finished with its victim and was there. Long gold nails reached out to his chest.

Demon’s role

Russia, center of Moscow

It was pouring rain. Denis quickly clicked on the automatic button on the iron handle, opening an umbrella of a low-key shade. It is strange that it is during the rain that such freshness emanates from the city asphalt, as if you are in nature. If you close your eyes, it seems that there is a meadow all around, and the concrete walls smell of green grass.

Today is a non-standard evening. He goes to a press conference to criticize another arrogant celebrity (far from the first on his long list of debunked movie idols). Why, instead of sober thoughts, he is haunted by illusions? He never drinks during work hours, so where do the visions come from? He sees a fantastic meadow of sedge, reeds and ears of rye, and suddenly a flame falls from the heights of heaven, as if a dragon had died on the field. A huge fire burns out both grass and ears, and the entire surrounding nature. And something bursts out of the ground that has fallen asleep under the meadow, as if under a grassy cap. This polyphonic and multi-armed something has claws and wings.

Denis almost suffered a heartbeat when he noticed that smoke vapors were hovering between the rain streams. How like dragon breathing!

Stop! He is old enough not to believe in fairy tales, and the critic’s education makes him look at the world extremely realistically. There are no dragons or winged figures. The fairy with wings that he sees in the alley is just a play of shadows.

And so it turned out upon closer examination. As soon as Denis came closer, all illusions were dispelled, but he was shocked all the same. The movie star herself, whom he was in a hurry to meet, stood under the canopy of a gloomy building and smoked. Athenais was alone. Exactly the same as on the screen. There were no bodyguards or press agents with her. There was no cigarette in her fingers either. She probably managed to put it out and throw it out. But she still exhaled the smoke. This he took for the breath of a dragon.

The smoke was atypical for cigars with an orange hue and sparks. The smell is also not tobacco at all.

“It seems that smoking on the streets of Moscow is prohibited,” Denis reminded cautiously. Such a law really existed, but was almost never observed, because lazy law enforcement officers were in no hurry to incriminate anyone.

“I don’t smoke,” said Athenais.

She speaks Russian as her mother tongue! Who would have thought? Denis was ready to take off his hat in front of her out of respect, if he was wearing a hat now. But in Moscow in the summer season it is not fashionable to walk with your head covered.

Athenais wore real gold jewelery with rubies worn on his arms and forearms. And she is not afraid that she will attract the attention of the robbers?! For such jewelry they can kill.

Denis belatedly wondered where the smoke came from if she didn’t smoke. Burnt holes are visible in the canopy frame. Maybe there was a fire? But now nothing is burning. This means that calling the firemen is probably no longer worth it.

He focused on the lips of a young movie star. They were as delicate as rose petals and did not match the memories of acrid smoke at all.

“Never smoke?” Denis still expected that she would laugh impudently and breathe a new stream of smoke or even flame into his face, but Athenais behaved with royal dignity.

“Never. I don’t like tobacco. Wine is another matter. When you drink it, you feel like you are flying again with your former brothers. Their souls were left to live in wine. But this revelation is not for the press. You understood me?”

He nodded. Wow! She knows who he is. And he thought he had a privilege before the stars. After all, he saw their photo, but they did not. And now the usual incognito criticism in front of a movie star is broken. Did someone tell her about him? Some of the ill-wishers? Although, if she has already been notified of how evil his style of expression is, then why is she acting so confident?

Denis could not take his eyes off her. Athenais is like an unearthly creature that gradually enslaves you, without making any effort at all. She has something of a queen and an angel at the same time.

“Write about me!” She suddenly demanded.

“That’s what I came for.”

The movie star shook her golden-haired head.

“Write the truth about me,” she clarified, “the truth that no one dares to tell, but everyone sees.”

“And what?”

“That I am a demon!”

To say that the answer dumbfounded him is to say nothing. She really wants him not to go to the press conference at all, but to write only one insane denunciation. But Athenais had already passed him and seemed to dissolve in the rain. Her slender figure in silvery streams of moisture began to seem ghostly.

Although the umbrella was new and durable, it suddenly broke. Denis felt copious drops with solid hail on the back of his head and shoulders. And Athenais suddenly turned around and exhaled a whole stream of fiery smoke that did not go out even in the rain.

You could convince yourself as much as you wanted that this was a clever trick, but the heat from her breath reached Denis’s cheek, leaving a painful burn. As if the beauty branded him.

Many burned hands were stretched out from under the umbrella. They grabbed its lapels, ripped off its cufflinks, left traces of ash on a brand new shirt. Denis was trying to throw away the umbrella.

Something is wrong here. The world was changing, becoming like a horror movie.

“Let us in!” whispered rustling voices. “Let us recover from the greatest fire in the entire universe.”

The feeling was that he was on the other side of the screen and was participating in a horror movie himself. He threw the umbrella onto the high benches in front of the TASS building. Let yourself lie in the rain.

Nothing unusual was happening in the building itself. The journalists were carefully searched after they were passed through a metal detector. Ordinary situation. All measures are being taken to prevent the entry of terrorists. But the impression was that the terrorist had already entered. And his name is Lucifer – the same terrorist who staged the first act of rebellion in the entire universe.

Denis shook his head. He’s just seen enough creepy movies. The girls at the reception and the guards looked at him suspiciously. It was necessary to drag the umbrella with you and throw it on the table in front of the guard. What would they do if they saw the crippled hands inside? Or would they not see anything at all? What if its hands seemed to him?