Chapter 3. Meeting old friends.
Strange noise woke her up at night. Being not sure that she heard it for real but not in a dream she closed her eyes and tried to fall asleep again. But the sound repeated.
- What the…?
"I'm not to be charged, if again some cat scraped through the ventlight and now smashes up my kitchen trying to get some food!"
The noise repeated louder. She heard the sound of clinging forks.
"No, it's not a cat".
She started searching the upper compartment, absent-mindedly trying to find a gun. It occurred to her that she was in the living-room – no compartment, no gun.
"Damn it!" – Kirsty looked around in the dark, trying to see something sharp or heavy at least. As if by some evil misfortune, she saw nothing of this kind. What she hand at hand was an alarm-clock and half-finished kefir package.
"Ok, let's improvise" – she rose out of bed slowly and lazily and started crawling towards the kitchen. Of course, she could have had a narrow escape through the front door, but after all she had survived, she wouldn't be a coward to run from some petty thief. No way! One of them is going to escape from this house, and that wouldn't be her for sure! Suddenly she remembered the torchlight and broken toaster in the entrance hall, which she was going to repair in a day or two.
"Better than nothing" – she thought while weighting toaster in her hand. "If to strike him on the head, he'd drop unconscious".
She approached the kitchen door and lend her ear to it. Whatever the thief was doing there, after him the kitchen would certainly need repair.
She turned the handle and opened the door slightly. In the shell she saw nothing, so she had to open it wider. Peering into darkness she saw some movement in the end of the kitchen – somebody was stirring her sink.
"Strange thief – what he's trying to find there except dustbin?"
Well, that wasn't the main thing to worry about, as the department with kitchen equipment was turned over. Knives glimmered in the sunlight. She put the toaster on the floor as silently as possible and reached for the knife. She failed to do it silently, as the reaction of the stranger was pretty quick – he made a u-turn. Kirsty managed to switch on the torchlight and instantly silence hand in the air. She seemed to feel her heartbeat as her heart was tearing out of her chest.
- You? – that was the only word she could breathe.
The face of the stranger twitched as if he was a dog commanded to attack. She raised the razor but missed – a centimeter or more and in a moment her throat was clenched by a strong man's hand. Another hand started twisting her hand. She let the knife go. Kirsty struck his head with a torchlight but it was too easy and small – no effect. The clench became harder, her eyes dazzled and she stopped fighting.
- Where is it? Where is it?
Even if she wanted she couldn't answer as her throat was stiffed so much she could only croak. The stranger as if understanding that she couldn't answer, lessened the clench, but he did wrong. As soon as she breath in, feeling of reality returned to her and she did what she never did before – with all her effort she poped him. He choked as a dog chewing the bone and let her go. She gave a start to the entrance hall.
- No! Wait! Don't go!
"Aha, right now!" – she thought running up the stairs. - "Gun, gun, I need to get a gun".
She ran into her bedroom and grabbed a gun, than she lurked behind the door at hearing steps on the stairs. In a second the stranger ran into the room and stood, bewildered at seeing nobody. She clicked the safety device and the stranger turned around. The gun was pointed right into his head.
- I've gone through a lot because of you, but trespassing to my flat – that's a bit too much!
- Kirsty… - he pronounced slowly and irresolutely.
His tone produced strange effect on her, she even doubed – was it really whom, the man she was thinking about. His tone didn't resemble him – non-masterful, no self-confident, and the timbre was not so low and deep.
- But…it's you!
- I'm glad that you remember me.
- But…what are you doing here?
- Put away the gun and I'll tell you everything.
- Aha, for sure – I'll do it and you'll try to choke me again or – what's better – call the chains?
- No chains anymore. I swear, I didn't mean to hurt you…
- Ha! "I didn't mean to hurt you"! Somebody used to tell me something very different!
- When I saw you, I felt emotional shock and "he" obtained control over me…thank god, not for a long time.
Kirsty's head was spinning and she wasn't sure that it was not a dream.
- Okay, tell me any reason why I shouldn't blow your brains off right now?
- Well – he reached for the gun. – Maybe the reason is that I'm trying to improve the situation?
He heart numbed and the word "improve" sounded like a ray of uneven hope. One part of her was eager to shoot this bastard, who brought misfortunes to her life since she was 16, the other part tried to understand why he was here, why he looked like a human, what he wanted and why he wanted to "improve the situation"?
Seeing her bewilderment he whispered:
- I'm not asking you to believe me, allow me to tell everything.
She hesitated, on the one hand she knew how "tender" he was with human brains, on the other hand, if he was a demon, no bullet could hurt him. She could shoot him now, make him angry and die at once. Or win herself some time and allow him to speak.
She put the gun away slowly.
- All right. Let's talk, mr. cenobite.
- I'm not a cenobite. At least the main part of me. At the moment, and I have a name.
Only now Kirsty understood, that she didn't know the name of her opponent.
- Okay, let's introduce to each other. I'm Kirsty Cotton.
Smile appeared on his face.
- Spenser. Elliot Spenser.