Читать книгу The Seventh Angel. Crypt of the Seven Angels онлайн

35 страница из 68

In the head it was repeated:

«Seventh! Seventh! Seventh!»

«He is among us,» was repeated.

The blind boy was sitting on the asphalt and drew bloody symbols, and seven figures went around him. From the side, everything looked terribly like some kind of mystery.

The sheriff did not even think: whether they want to attack the beggar or they help him. The view of the figures was sinister. They dimly glowed and reminded the ghosts.

After all, the figures are exactly seven. And the incorporeal voice whispers already in the ear.

«Somewhere there is the seventh!»

The figures almost danced around the boy. And for some reason it seemed that the blind boy sees them, and not only listens to them. He picked out some of their advice and drew on the road something similar to the pentagram. And he did not drew with some paint, but precisely with blood. And definitely not with his own. Everything made reminded the rite. A thin fragrance of a recent murder flowed over the asphalt. But it was impossible to interfere.