Warnings: halloween horror story Feeling? Do you smell that smell of mysticism, dismemberment and bad humor, which I am trying to pass off as black humor?)) If this does not frighten you - welcome; but do not say that I did not warn.

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Throughout his life, Kiruha hated the expression "rain by the wall." That was how pizza delivery men and girls who were late for a date were justified. So his mother scolded: when Kirill was so wet when she was a child, she put her hand on a steep thigh and exclaimed: “Are you sick? There's also a rain wall! What place did you think when you were wearing these sneakers ?! ”

Mummy took an eternal vacation in October last year, having rest in peace under a slab of black marble, but her voice, full of condemnation, has pursued Kiruha to this day.

“I don't like rain,” he admitted. Taxi cut through the rain like a submarine, headlights shone dimly and barely coped with the darkness. At such moments, Kiryukha attracted frankness, but he did not like to deny himself.

“Once in the rain, I received a bakery from a woman,” he boasted. - I do not know, shesgovorya, cho there with tits, she was in a coat, plus a scarf, plus a shower. In, - Kiruha nodded, pointing out the window. - The same rain, a wall! But she had a puppet face. He clamped it, it means that in the gateway, the coat and skirt pulled up, and she mokoschelititsya - no, they say, do not, do not rub, I will scream!

She drove silent. The back of his head, as smooth and sleek as his face, expressed mixed feelings.

- Well, I got rid of it from kolgotov, - Kiryukh continued, - But in general, cowards are like that. Accorded somehow, put in finally, and she howled! As if her poker ebli, not dick. So I squeal that I wrenched and strangled her mouth with her own scarf. I thought - a little bit, so as not to scream. And she twitched, while I pranked, and then lay back, sech? I fuck, it means a dead chick, a rain pound, and she's squishing everything there, and it's so warm, like living ...

She drove in silence, and the horror of a man who forgot what number to call the police could be felt in that silence: “02” or “03”? Kiryukha, meanwhile, scratched his cheek with his fingers, sleepily squinting, and losing heart.

- And one I really planted a poker, that was a laugh. In the ass, then, while in front of her ebal. And another suggested kayfonut salitsilkoy. She had some kind of bullshit there, autumn depression due to rain or something. Come on, I say it's safe, what's up? So she ate aspirin handfuls, and then dragged, right while we fucked. Her intestines turn into a sieve, and she is like this: yes-ah, yes, cat, still! Are you cutting? Blouse wide open, boobs out, and bounce, smooth, pure marble, and nipples like cherries ...

She drove silent. Kiruha was twenty centimeters taller than him and one and a half times heavier — a healthy fucker, you can't throw out such a left-hand vehicle.

“I had them breathing,” Kiryukh admitted. - Do you know how it all began?

She drove silent. It seemed to him that in silence - the only salvation for him.

- I had a woman alone, Julia, - Kiruha dreamily closed his eyes. - Well, it means that we are sitting in a car, I'm driving, and she is next to each other. I put my hand between her legs, and she is - oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, ooh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, ooh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, ooh! And her voice is so hoarse. This voice gets stronger than the elastic third. And her resilient third is also in her presence, thrown out of a sundress and sways, well, to the beat of her moans, and all she is, white and smooth like porcelain, can be published. And I spread all these folds with my fingers, it is already wet there, and it means that I pinch, rub, and then with the whole palm ka-a-ak ...

She drove on the brakes, vaguely imagining what now awaits them: both him, and the car, and the customer fucked by the whole head. Outside the window was a metal fence - a small hotel outside the city limits. Destination, surrounded by rain.

“Well, that means Julia is coping with my belt for half a second,” Kiryukh continued, as if not noticing that the taxi had stopped.He rubbed his hands - it was cold in the car, even with the heating on. - I do not know how, tea, not a firefighter. And we are on the track! And she, therefore, bends down and swallows until the eggs, skillful such pizdoproebina, fucking, I have already lost the gift of speech. And then I ... you know what then?

- ... and then you slow down and buckle up? - either scared, or shyly suggested drove. He was pale, like the upholstery of his Lada.

“Nah,” said Kiryukh, and his face suddenly became predatory. All the features sharpened: here is a man who tweaks about his adventures, but a wolf man. Even the dimple on the chin became sharper, like a crack in marble. - And then I give a blunder, we are sawed with lobovuha, and the whole face endures me a piece of metal - bam! Are you cutting?

Rain lupashil on the roof of the car - hit the metal, as if bolts were falling out of some infinitely large bucket.

“So I became a ghost,” Kiryukha finished, pulled a five-piece from his wallet and threw it into the front seat next to the carrier. - One woman decided to sleep for me, and I sat back because of her. Are you cutting? And I decided - what the fuck? Now I fuck and kill them - every quinit deserves it.

I drove something, mumbled, shivering finely and not taking my eyes off the road. Not that he believed in the paranormal nature of his client ... but, whatever his nature, the position of the carrier was seams.

- Well, - said Kiryukha. - And what am I to do with you?

- II ... - he stretched the carrier. - I'll give the change now and go ...

“No,” answered Kiryukh with a laziness. - You will now run, rattle everything in the mentovka ... I may be dead, but I do not welcome publicity.

Drove something moaned, stupid, completely numb from fear.

“I did not hear,” said Kiryukha, and he stood up. - What are you mumbling? Turn around when you talk to me.

His hands closed on someone else's head and turned around confidently, as in the old joke - “until a click”. The facial muscles of the carrier twisted, and he at once ceased to be well-groomed, glossy and alive.

“Well,” Kiruha grieved, and turned around, getting out of the car. - Dick you understand: you turn your hand - yelling, head - silent ...

* * *

Throughout his life, he hated the expression “rain by wall”.

... and now it only came up. Every drop seemed cold and sharp like shrapnel. Rain fell from the sky, like an iron curtain, blocking the tiny hotel from the whole world, and Kiruha crawled out of the car, setting an umbrella in front of him, like a Wonder Woman's shield.

A sodden paper was stuck on the front door. “Dear hotel guests,” she said. “Our team wishes you a pleasant stay and assures that none of the attendants is a zombie.”

Bottom curve handwriting was attributed:

"And the vampires."

"And aliens."

“Even if the clerk swore it on his little fingers.”

Reaching the entrance, Kiryukha shook himself and somehow folded the metal knitting needles, mercilessly turned by the wind. His hair was wet through. The swollen belly of the suitcase was smeared with mud, like an African hippo in its natural habitat. Kiruha was chilled and looked like a man who had just waded a gutter, a couple of rivers and Loch Ness.

The bright, small lobby greeted him with silence. Tables piled up along the windows: one of them was turned upside down, and the other was an old woman in a dark blue dress and hat with a veil, dark and old-fashionedly tasteless. On the other hand, a small bar reigned; a receptionist stuck to his side. Right on the rack, throwing one leg behind the leg, sat a hefty man with short cropped blond hair. Judging by the uniform, he was a bartender. Judging by the fact that the black vest was unbuttoned, and the sleeves of the shirt were casually rolled up - he was a bad bartender. Judging by the fact that instead of working, he was sitting on the desk of the receptionist, smoking a cigarette and diligently blowing out the smoke in the direction of the fire detector, the attendants were generally out of hand. The sensor did not work, the barman was upset and put out a cigarette right on the rack, then lowered his head and finally noticed Kiruha.

- ABOUT! He exclaimed without enthusiasm. - O. Killing taxi drivers is bad ...

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