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

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The fact that Mario will not return to the morning, it was easily predictable. His safeguards did not return too. Not anyone else to ask something. Although no, one guy, obviously from his suite, was sitting in the corridor, squeezing his own head with his hands. Blaise learned Rico with difficulty. He led himself and looked like a mentally ill. Even hit several times with a head about the wall, rushing to drive some thoughts or memories.

«Bird…» he repeated all the time.

«What?» Blaise carefully sat down next to him and began to look at the ugly bites on his hands. Familiar traces! Rico is a living dead man, but he still does not know about it.

«A large marble bird,» he mumbled. «She flew and attacked on top. And it was useless to shoot it. She is from marble. Do you believe me?»

«Of course, I believe you,» Blaise carefully took a weapon from him.

«I’m not crazy,» he looked around.

«No more than I,» Blaise reassured him, «but you’re better to sleep.»

His gun was with a silencer. How lucky! She lowered the trigger, without thinking, and watched the guy’s brains waved around the wall.