The End of the Way. Vladimir Slipets. Читать онлайн. Newlib. NEWLIB.NET

Автор: Vladimir Slipets
Издательство: ЛитРес: Самиздат
Серия:
Жанр произведения: Ужасы и Мистика
Год издания: 2018
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      Introduction

      Fate is a set of accidents, compatible and incompatible events. Decisions that we make, reactions to things that encourage us to act, the emotions that we experience – all of these shapes us and our destinies. But what awaits everyone in the end? Are you good or bad? life is a strange thing, and often does not go as we want. And sometimes she likes to make surprises, that change herself, turn everything upside down.

      The bar "The End of the Way" has a very long story. Here came the most diverse personalities. All had their own reasons to come here. Searching for consolation, appeasement, oblivion and just a good drink and a bright show – at this place could be found all and in the same time.

      Imagine this mix of human souls and their problems. All this in four walls, under a loud music shakes and is mixed in explosive cocktail. Everything falls on the shoulders of the barman, who tries to somehow comfort and to reassure everybody who sits at bar counter.

      Once in "The End of the Way" came the seven lost souls, seeking solace, place where they could possible hide. Someone was reveling in grief, someone wanted to escape from himself and his misdeeds. But bills always need to be paid off. But what is this price? Who are these people and from what runs each of them? Learn everything by reading the story of that will show why nobody can escape from fate, and escape from his own nature.

      Chapter One: The First Visitor

      Today at the bar there was almost no one. Only a couple of men. One was sitting at bar rack, drinking whiskey. As it appears, he had a rough week: he had already drunk a lot and he will soon begin to pour out the soul to the poor barman, that is me. Yea, don’t be misunderstand, I like my work, and I'm glad that my father chose me for this post. I like people, their little problems. At least they are funny.

      For example, here is this guy: attractive, even when in insole is drunk, dressed in expensive suit (most likely successful), with beautiful green eyes and rhomboid features of the face. Despite the fact that he already drank a lot, his speech is the same excellent – such as five glasses back. As it appears, he often works with people, directly, like me. I liked him.

      It's been a couple of minutes, and then happened exactly what I expected. He had spoken to me! Eventually, different people have same habits – just a little booze, music, awkward silence and the right companion, and someone will start a conversation:

      – Tell me, my friend, have you been working here for a long time? Oh, sorry, I do not introduce myself. My name is Rendell, and how can I call you? – He asked me with a smile.

      – Hello, Rendell, my name is Tom, nice to meet you. Hmm … I work a very long time, do not even know when I have started. It feels like I've been working here for ages.

      – Then you are well preserved! Although, seriously, yes, I understand you. House – work, work – house, and don’t even notice how quickly time goes. Yesterday it seemed like it was Monday, but it's already Friday…

      – Well, but today is Saturday …

      – Yes, yes, well, you understood the point, right?

      – Well, what to do, this is life, and we need somehow spinning there. It’s a long time when this cabaret has become a house to me, like for most people who decided to visit us. This is not in vain why it was called "The End of the Way."

      – Hmm, the name is still … No, no, not to insult such beautiful place. It's very nice here, but the name scares a lot. At first, I wanted to pass by. Hmm, by the way, just for a minute… Do you know how I got here? My mind has completely left me.

      – I only know that, like all the rest, you went through the door. Then they sat down beside me and ordered the first glass.

      – It's strange, uh, I thought that I have a good memory… – After these words, Rendell fell silent and sad for some reason.

      A few minutes later, Rendell remained silent. He looked in empty glass, but didn’t order more. I decided to ask him:

      Rendell, is something wrong? Maybe you would like another drink?

      There was only silence. He kept looking at emptiness, and his eyes grew more and more gloomy. He was already somewhere far away, thinking. Day ago, week, month, year – how far he has already been? I've seen this before. Still people are similar: mostly they look like him, when they want to find something in their heads, bring everything into order.

      And suddenly a pumping silence was dispelled by a cry:

      Exactly! Today I have won a hundredth deal! Tom, pour me some more. And don’t forget about yourself, because I need someone to celebrate this with me!

      Although I was a little surprised, but I'm glad that Rendell brightened up and returned back to me. Here I have already topped up whiskey in the second glass, when suddenly I heard another voice:

      Pour and me, but not this swallow, tequila, please! – Said the man dressed in all black, sitting next to the scene.

      Chapter Two: The Mexican

      When Rendell fell asleep in the bar again harbored tensing and lingering silence. I suddenly felt so lonely and anxiously. Near this Mexican was only darkness. I have already seen such kind of people, and, believe the experience of the poor barman, the history with them is not very pleasant. They all had left some evil behind their backs. What did he do? Maybe he stole something or killed someone? Or maybe he had just a tough kind of life? As you can see, my curiosity doesn’t know any measures. That’s why I decided to get from him at least a couple of words:

      – Mister… Jose, right?

      – Yes barman, I'm still here. – Said this guy with so much rude.

      – What bring you to us? Where are you from?

      – I? Is that so hard to guess? I'm from Mexico, Tom! Pour me some more. And, where am I? I remember only that I went for a long time by one road. It was very cold, then so hot that it wasn’t able to go. It was so difficult for me for the first time in my life. I probably had got a sunstroke. Or got a bullet in my head and it's all just dreaming to me! Ahahahah… A chilling laugh gripped the whole room. It must have been a joke, right? But I somehow didn’t want to laugh. The laughter was so creepy that Mr. Rendell got awoken from scare and become a little sweating.

      – Jose! Don’t scare us like this, buddy. From such killing laugh you may bring my body to grave in a one second. Not at resentment …

      On minute again was silence. And then sharply, like thunder, in whole room was once again spreading this frightening laugh. But on this time, he was softened by the laughter of Rendell himself – he probably thought that the joke was funny. I again had nothing to say and didn’t understood this. People are still so incomprehensible.

      Ahah, ah you're funny, Rendell. Humor – this is what life so often tries to wrap away from us, but it still within us even through all these troubles… This is why I like you, man. Okay, just sit, talk and rest… I'll go pick it up. thanks for drink, Tom.

      Rendell was surprised and asked with interest:

      – Oh, so you're playing? And behind you are… Case! Musician, how cool! Come on, we won’t interfere!

      – Mr. Jose, uh, we have a small scene. If it will be more convenient for you there – you are welcome.

      – My friend, please, go to the scene, we ask! – At Rendell’s voice was heard trembling and delight.

      We were left alone, and the Mexican went crusting his guitar. Let's just say, the acquaintance was not ordinary, but music in the bar is always welcome.

      Chapter three: Shepherd

      What a strange story and funny joke can come in head if I told you that the shepherd went into the bar at night? What did he forget here? And It’s true: what can the minister of the church do in such place. Well, I'm used to seeing up different strange misters here, but it was the first time I saw him. In my bar went one like this. He was dressed in worn blue jeans with black shirt and with white collar (the classic element of the priest's costume), and brown boots. There was a book with red cross, tattered, you could see that it was the old one. Green eyes,