Читать книгу Mutilated. Crypt of the Seven Angels онлайн

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She was frightened. Although she saw this face before, but was afraid again, as for the first time. Goosebumps fled on the skin. The hand was still sick. Blood smeared on her fingers. Neglecting etiquette, Claire wiped her hand right about jeans pocket. Only turning around, she noticed that on the bench also remained a bloody palm imprint, but it was not her. The fingers seemed stretched and bony, as if strange.

Someone’s cries rang out after the train had already disappeared into the tunnel. Claire moved to where they shouted. There are several people who were late for the train and the duty officer who tried, as he could, to relieve panic. He distilled off the frightened people from the edge of the platform, but Claire still managed to look through his shoulder on the rails. Initially, she did not even really understand what she saw, but the spectacle was extremely unpleasant. Some kind of dirty rags on the rails and brown lodges… no, these were parts of the body. Many scattered parts. Have you ever been alone? Claire did not immediately notice a white-eyed head with a barred skull. A sticky brown messenger flowed along the long luminous hair. Only on the hairstyle, Claire managed to learn that Blonde, whom she saw five minutes ago in the subway with some girl. Obviously, the girl was here on the rails. Claire noted graceful chopped hands, obviously female parts of the body, the same dirty and brown, as some kind of rags with a garbage. Here is the death in the subway tunnel. How these guys were only lit together to fall under the train. Maybe someone pushed them. Or they played at the edge of the platform when the train approached. And maybe they were just so passionate about each other, which did not notice anything. On the moment it seemed to her that dead chops were still moving. That someone mutilated still reflects in the wall and laughs.