‘Dear…Leave deuces alone… What’s up your exam? Your head has been preoccupied with my personality since recently. I see clearly in all its beauty every thought jumping through your head. I know every scene you think of and dream about. I saw everything you imagined’

He touched her lips, softly whispering his vision. Vic closed her eyes, trying to focus on something worth and distractive.

‘You want my hands to touch you, my lips to burn yours in a voluptuous kiss… Endearment. Brutality. Everything has got all mixed up in your head, dear… Please, stop thinking of us so loudly… I can’t see anything about medieval philosophy in all that sexual chaos of thoughts in your head…’

Victoria opened her eyes. Suddenly she felt ashamed. She couldn’t have even thought that Kharon saw through all her desires and spoke them up. Self-consciousness, diffidence and passion that were what the girl was full of at that moment.

‘Please…’ Vic whispered, squeezing his hand, ‘Please, don’t do…’

‘Do not do what?’ Kharon smiled and kissed the girl again, ‘Do not do this? Or that?’

His hand, so hot and fond, slithered under her shirt up to her back.

‘No!’ Vic jumped up; her hand met his face in a resounding slap. ‘It’s a mistake. All of this is a mistake! Damn it!’

The girl grasped her bag and ran out of the café. Unexpected appearance of her mind brought her to life.

“Oh, dear God, what I’m doing… I’m absolutely craze. It can’t be. I’m dreaming. Could I be critically ill? Have I had an accident and fallen into an eternal coma? Some guy lets himself do things which he’s not supposed to think of. And me? I’m acting like a slutty little bitch! What’s happening to me?”

Vic was running to the university, hoping to catch someone of her mates, to find out what had been discussed at the preparatory meeting and how the exam was going to be, if the students had to be frightened.

Kharon was in a natural shock. Needless to say, that he had never been slapped by any woman over the entire history of his existence. He never knew his cheek to be burning.

The man was in the café among people and tried to fathom what he was supposed to feel. Anger? Perplexity? Offence? Wrath? But none of those emotions could describe the state which the hell representative was in. The only thing he knew for sure was that he didn’t understand what he was slapped for.

Practically it was for the first time he faced the most terrible male nightmare: like nobody else, Kharon looked the girl’s thoughts through as if her head had been made of glass. He looked through her desires, dreams, her thoughts visualization. She slept with him not once in her head, and he knew it and she knew it. But in reality, she slapped him in the face and ran away.

To run away from oneself? What a childish stupidity. To run away from her own thoughts, desires, dreams. Why? Was it so scary to materialize things which are in one’s head? No, that’s not the point. It’s yet another concern of society and collaboration. Was it so shameful to say I was unfaithful to my beloved or my husband? Then their cheeks were red, and they would kill themselves for obscene deed, destroying and rebuking for stupidity made. But it was so good. Why did nobody remember it being very good? It’s a shame… Being ashamed in whose presence? In people’s presence whom you don’t know? In your own? It’s a lie. You’re not ashamed. You were so scared to admit it, scared of being an outcast in society. To be someone who people perk their fingers in and laugh at, despise and make fun of.

But why? Why did everyone care so much about what was going on with others? Why did they care so much about others’ lives? Was an adultery really the worst crime? In fact, it was easier than people think. If a person never loved, he would never know love to have limits, to be very seldom long-lived, to leave quietly, gently closing the door behind. People continue thinking that love was here, near… but it’s empty for some reason.

Were they truly afraid of becoming outcasts in society but they weren’t afraid of being alone in unhuman emptiness, soothing themselves with ghost mirage of dead love? Bridle necrophilia. Love couldn’t resuscitate if it was dead. It could not. Love couldn’t come back if it’s gone. No. It was all a mirage. An illusion. Was that not a shame? Was that not a shame to deceive yourselves? But it was a shame to be unfaithful to…

Why did you need to be loyal to something dead? It’s better to keep it in memory. Bright, full of emotions and life. You just needed to remember.

Kharon certainly didn’t get what was going on. Even he, a powerful and imperious demon, at the first opportunity got lost in a female subconsciousness… And he became more interested.

A woman of undescribed beauty, dressed in white, let her light long hair down, came into the café. At once she saw Kharon alone, whose face showed frustration and a little bit of desperation and she sat down near him. The woman smiled, Kharon was staring at her azure eyes.

‘Lucifer…’ he whispered, having let himself a tiny sliver of a smile.

‘Hello to you, Kharon’ the girl was gazing the man in front of her. ‘Where did you get such a perfect body?’

‘I’ve created it! I am tired of constant thinking in what appearance I shall be before this or that woman. This version has never screwed over me, until today happens’

‘Yes, I’ve been observing your passions. It was quite the performance…what is it about, by the way?’

Lucifer leaned back in his chair and fixed his gaze upon Kharon. The demon sighed, looked away, allowing easy almost airily sadness to run over his face.

‘Lucifer. Just imagine what an awkward situation I am in now. The Lord of Hell is here and waiting for me to answer about my deeds and I don’t know what to say. Can you imagine it?’

‘Indeed, I can. I’ve imagined stranger things. Let me correct you. In the first place here is your friend if you forgot, then the Lord of Hell. You can trust me, Kharon. I think I deserve to be trusted.

‘Absolutely. I’ve never thought of hiding anything…’

‘I’m not sure you actually could hide something’ Lucifer smiled.

Kharon nodded and withed his head low.

‘When did people summon you last time?’ the demon asked, looked up at his Lord.

‘Oh, these idiots do it every day and not once per day’

‘And how often do you come to them?’

‘Very seldom. Pretty much never. There are several criteria when I can come to a human. If it is a man who’s summoning me, it is 70 percent that I won’t come. If it is about a woman, then it is 10 percent more that she will see me. I’d like to begin with men. When I hear a man voice, I always try to get what that idiot wants from me. If he wants different nonsense like money, authority, revenge, I don’t come, as a rule. But if I’m in no mood I can visit him, have a benefit only for me deal with him, then to annihilate the magician and be happy about free evening. If a magician has an interesting desire or he wants to suggest a strong deal, I will bargain for a while, surely, but he hardly stays alive. If a magician is a woman then in fact, it becomes more interesting. In spite of that I am not an incubus, I prefer women. Besides, they can offer something else. You perfectly understand what I’m speaking about, Kharon, don’t you?’

The demon smiled in response, remembering little fire on his cheek left and again started banishing up-coming misunderstanding.

‘How are you feeling, Kharon? To my personal memory that was the first time when incubus was rejected with a resounding slap. How did it come to that?’

‘I don’t know. The only explanation which I have is that I speed things up, speaking Human Language’

‘No, the point is that now you’re working in the reality. It’s very difficult to carry through things you usually do in dreams. Reality is an associate hole full of maggots that swarm in the bottom, crawling on each other, trying to elevate themselves, without even realizing that each of them is the same withe, thick worm with a black head, very dull, by the way.’