gathering in the bar.

- Not. There is one whose name cannot be said out loud, I replied mysteriously. “Until he disappears from the face of the earth, my road to the Promised Land is closed.”

Once, when we were alone at the table, Dima gave me a falsely comic tone:

- Svetka told me everything!

Dima was silent that evening, drank a lot, and was rather drunk. And then suddenly this!

- What did you tell? - I'm wary, you never know what.

- Everything! - He said with a share of sarcasm and went to the bar. There were a lot of people crowded there, I thought Dima would take another beer and come back, but he squeezed through to the exit and left without saying goodbye.

I was invited to a Halloween by a good friend who was sitting in the same room with me. He was married, two children.

I arrived on a bicycle, somehow I found a house in an ideal grid of streets - in the dark it is hard to look for signs with names.

(In the Netherlands, most people in The Hague and its surroundings live in three-story brick houses that stand in rows along the streets. My friends had just such a house.)

The door was ajar. I pushed her - in front of me is an empty dark hallway. Measured in indecision. Through the window facing the street one could see the lights of candles burning inside, the pumpkin on the windowsill, the table filled with dishes, the scattered products on the kitchen counter.

The house seemed to die out. A holiday had just reigned here, orgy, and suddenly there was no one left.

- Hey! - cross the threshold. - Is there anyone at home?

- A-A-A! - jump all at once with claws, fangs. Witches, vampires, dead rush out. The owner of the house, Frankenstein, with his head pierced by an aspen wedge, hovers towards me, wants to strangle. I also do not miss - expose the fangs. The witches run away with a shriek.

All elegant, beautiful gather in the living room. Comic fun is accompanied by playful attempts to scare. Dima is also here in the form of the gloomy Dracula. He came alone, leaving pregnant Svetka at home. I'm sad because I hoped to amuse her.

After a small meal, the mistress of the house takes the children outside to go home with a bag and collect sweets. Only adults remain in the house, and here Frankenstein solemnly announces:

- Attention! Just a minute attention! Erotic show for adults. Pregnant and faint of heart, please refrain. We will now go up to the attic to examine the remains of the witch killed by Count Dracula.

All rise, covered with curiosity, climb the steep stairs to the third floor. From the attic is another staircase. It is dark there, at least gouge out the eye. We are six people - three guys and three girls.

In the dark to the touch we find the chairs, the voice determines who is where. All fun, very fun. Something will be now?

“A witch has settled in my house,” Dima's theatrical voice is heard from the far end of the attic. The voice is calm and tragic. Unusually humble tone. Everyone calms down listening to him.

“I killed her last night and brought her to show you,” Dima continues. - Here are the panties that were on her when she fucked the devil himself.

The girls giggle, whispering. Something rustles in the dark. In a circle I reach the female thong with lace and a miniature bow. I know this bow, he often looked out from under Svetka's jeans when we were walking.

- Here is a bra, which she shot when she fucked with Satan! - continues Dima.

I get a little bust in my hands. The female half openly laughs, feeling someone else's underwear.

We again calm down, and after a short pause, Dima gloomily reports:

- Here is the clitoris, which the Devil caressed her tongue when she finished!

This time the girls scream. The shock is accompanied by nervous exclamations indicating disgust.

In my trembling hands finally comes a gentle piece of meat. I am trying to understand what it is. Pass on the circle. Sticky liquid remains on fingers.

When the clitoris returns to Dima, he clicks a plastic box.

- Here are the nipples that were excited when the Devil fucked her!

Again the screams of squeamish indignation. I'm cold with horror.What falls into my hands is very similar to female nipples cut from the body. Anxiety is dizzy. If it is a joke, then very bad. Porous nipples with halos move on.

- But the language that came into contact with the Devil's phallus when she licked his seed!

In a deathly silence, something is passed around again.

- Dima, this is not funny. I want to go out, can I go out? - one girl breaks down.

- I, too, - rushes for her another.

- Wait a minute! - asks Dima. - This is a game! What are you really! Scared? Last item left.

Girls reluctantly return to their seats.

Dima is waiting, deliberately pauses.

“This is the fiend of hell,” he finally announces. - Which was conceived in the womb of the witch by the Devil himself. She loved to laugh when he fucked her and amused her, but this would not happen again! This is the unborn son of Satan. Tremble!

All this time I remained silent, plunging into silent horror. My head is spinning, there are no faces in the dark. But two lights shine ominously from the far corner, they are directed straight at me. They bury with fierce hatred

Not in my hoarse voice, hoarse in the dark:

“What did you do to her, freak?”