Right hand. Prince of Darkness - Dmitry Nazarov

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>Right hand. Prince of Darkness

      Dmitry Nazarov

      © Dmitry Nazarov, 2022

      ISBN 978-5-0059-1006-6

      Created with Ridero smart publishing system

      Annotation

      The highest demon, the right hand of the prince of Darkness, descended to Earth. An impoverished nobleman who ran away from the crown. A modest novice who left the monastery for the sake of good deeds. A reckless robber who narrowly escaped execution. A proud warrior accused of witchcraft. What will happen if these five come together? Will they be able to change the course of history, preventing its bloody turn? And is there a place for love where higher powers come into play?

      Prologue

      A perfectly shaped full moon illuminated a high picturesque hill, of which there are many in the expanses of Lakantria. That night, the colors faded, losing their daytime variety. Objects, even the slightest distance away, appeared black against the lighter sky. A cool breeze stirred the fresh spring grass along with the flowers that had encroached on its territory.

      Suddenly, a strange, unnatural glow, descending on the hill from heaven itself, swayed, gradually taking on the outlines of a human figure. It didn’t seem to belong to this world, and it certainly didn’t look like the light of the sun, the glow of the moon, or the twinkling of the stars. A few more long moments – and that is exactly what they are during the hours of the full moon – and a young woman appeared at the place of the glow.

      Nothing testified to her unusual nature, at least at first glance. Luxurious black hair is woven into a tight braid, as is customary in these places. Seductive lips, sharp cheekbones, slanting eyes, dark as night, but this is if you look closely. Good figure, thin but strong body, which is also not uncommon, especially among peasant women. Ankle-length dress was in line with fashion, such a style can be found both among commoners and middle-class matrons. It all depends on the fabric and decorations. Aristocrats are a different matter, they wear completely different outfits, with puffy skirts, lace, gold embroidery and harsh corsets.

      The stranger who appeared on the hill easily breathed in the fresh night air and began to make strange movements. She moved her right hand, then her left, looking at them with interest. She took a few steps on the grass, stumbling a couple of times out of habit. An outside observer would have decided that the girl was drunk, and would be greatly mistaken. It was just that the guest of the sublunar world needed time to get used to the human body. She twisted her head, flexing her neck, spread her shoulders wide, and raised her face to the abyss-black sky.

      – It’s all right, Master, – she said softly.

      There was no need to raise her voice: the one with whom the stranger was talking would have heard an indistinct whisper. The wind ran through the tall grasses, weightlessly touched the flushed cheeks, giving the answer: “Good. Everything goes according to plan. Get used to it and look around.”

      The woman nodded, and still staggered down the hillside.

      Part one

      Chapter 1

      Step by step, I carefully stepped on the pliable soil, adjusting to the human body, like a rider to a new stubborn horse. This body had its own instincts, and it was necessary not only to subordinate it to the power of my mind, but, on the contrary, give free rein to something, giving me the opportunity to be responsible for reactions that did not need my control. It wasn’t the first time I’d assumed human form, but the last time had been too long ago. How much time has passed? Three hundred years by human standards? Or is it five hundred?

      Once again, stumbling out of the blue, she cursed, mentioning the Prince of Light, and looking up, she found a grinning creature right in front of her, vaguely resembling a man, however, the resemblance to a monkey was also considerable. Looking more closely at the unshaven face, thin hair and untidy clothes, I nevertheless came to the conclusion that I see before me a representative of the Homo sapiens species, a male, albeit in a far from the most perfect version. It was hard not to smile. The Prince of Light has repeatedly stated that man is created in his image and likeness. I wonder what he would say if he saw this individual?

      Are you smiling, girl? The man grinned rather.

      I winced involuntarily: the human body did not respond well to strong odors.

      – Did you eat something? Or drunk? I tried to figure out the reason. – I don’t think your insides smell that bad.

      The male was offended, unless, of course, I forgot how to correctly interpret human facial expressions.

      – Just think, I intercepted bread with garlic, – he snapped. – Look, what a swell, she doesn’t like the smell. Let’s see how you sing now.

      His clammy, sweaty hands reached for mine… I think it’s called a waist. I would have endured it, but the parted mouth approached, and the stench became completely unbearable. It’s not good, of course, to reveal oneself right away, but I’m sure, given the circumstances, the Prince of Darkness will understand me. I think even the Prince of Light would understand.

      Taking a step back, I gazed intently into the eyes of a traveler I met by chance.

      – Greg Donellan, thirty-eight. – The pupils of Homo sapiens widened in surprise, and I continued with pleasure: – He committed violence against five women, the youngest of them was fourteen, the oldest – forty-one. You killed two after that. One, on the contrary, was first killed, and only then abused.

      The individual stepped back, waved her hand in horror, as if expecting me to disperse (no matter how!), and, shaking her head, wailed:

      – It is not true. It wasn’t like that at all. Not true!

      – Are you saying you didn’t rape those women? – I asked with curiosity.

      It’s interesting to understand what’s going on in the head of the instance that got in my way.

      – I don’t know how you know this… You must be a witch! – it dawned on him. I just laughed softly. But I’m not a necrophile. I didn’t sleep with the dead! Just strangled her a little so that she would not twitch. She herself is to blame. But she wasn’t dead!

      – How curious! I exclaimed, folding my arms over my chest. What an original interpretation of morality! You’ve just been accused of violence and murder, and it didn’t affect your vulnerable psyche too much. You are not at all concerned that you tortured living women who are capable of feeling, suffering and experiencing pain. No, you are shocked by another thing – that you had sex with a body that by that time had already left the soul. A body that was completely indifferent to what was happening to it, since its owner was very far away from here. I studied the man for a bit and shook my head thoughtfully. – A very peculiar moral code. I confess, he does not impress me too much.

      – I don’t like witches too much.

      It seems that Homo sapiens was not familiar with the word “impress”, but he understood the general meaning correctly.

      – A big tragedy. I’m sure they suffer tremendously because of this.

      The face of the interlocutor took on an aggressive expression (judging by the dilated nostrils, tightly compressed lips, flushed face and other signs). He stepped towards me again.

      – Come on, you’re not in the mood for abuse anymore, – I said confidently, but for some reason this remark only angered him more.

      – But you won’t tell anyone anything, – he hissed and, throwing himself at me, began to choke me.

      The instincts inherent in the human body called for resistance, to try to unclench other people’s fingers in the

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