Posts from Мафия 7. The Dark Age

"At night, the city police found the lifeless body of Kyle. He lay on the stairs right by the front door of the house where Hermit lived. The autopsy showed that two rifle shots were fired into the victim's back; one passed through and got stuck in one of the steps, while the second hit the heart accurately.
Investigators also reported that the dead body had been thoroughly searched, which seemed quite strange—Kyle was not particularly wealthy, judging by his clothes.
Hermit himself reported seeing a silhouette of a person following Kyle. It was he who then searched the body, but according to Hermit, he was not the killer.”

The police had plenty to do: another murder occurred on this night. Ple-Sen was brutally killed in his own home. The killer first delivered several blows to the victim's chest and then cut off their head.
-Just like a vibe from an old TV series,- one of the policemen noted jokingly.
-Series or not, no one has killed like that for a long time,- grumbled another.
-Say it's been since the confluence of spheres!
-Who the hell knows, it's just some kind of Middle Ages.

Things were not peaceful at Kash's house. An armed squad burst in during the middle of the night and conducted a thorough search. In the process, the homeowner received several painful blows to the ribs and face for not providing proper hospitality.
Someone also broke into Siverfale's house. When the owner woke up, he found complete disorder in his office, but fortunately, nothing was stolen.

It was almost morning when Neyra Drake walked briskly down the street. She felt great, and even the gray, long-unfriendly sky did not bother her. Soon she encountered Revan. He didn't look very happy; the poor fellow clearly hadn't been allowed to sleep properly. Seeing a satisfied Neyra Drake, he cursed filthily, most likely out of envy.

But it wasn't only the weather raging last night. Criminals also made their contribution to the general parade of evil forces. Magnus was found dead in his apartment. Several gunshot wounds were found on the body: one bullet got stuck in the left shoulder, the second and third hit the liver and left lung, and the fourth got stuck in the poor fellow's head as a final point. There was a lot of blood in the apartment: mostly on the floor. But police also found traces of blood on the front door, and according to unconfirmed data, the blood on the door did not belong to the deceased. Police also highlighted strange marks on the doorframe and the door itself in their reports, as if someone had stuck knives there or thrown them.
"It's like a union of dark forces decided to visit the city today,"- commented one of the policemen.
And perhaps he is right in some way. After all, the murder of Magnus was not the only one.

Siverfale did not meet the new day. In the morning he was found by the manager, who accidentally saw an open door and entered out of curiosity. The poor fellow lay on his bed in some unnatural pose: all twisted, shriveled. Apparently, before death, he experienced terrible same agony; he was vomiting and literally turning inside out. Moreover, Siverfale suffered for quite a long time: with his last strength, he fought death, trying to remain in this world. But fate prepared him a ticket to the kingdom of the dead—perhaps it really takes away all talents from youth.

And here we see Neyra Drake again. This time that sweet, cheerful smile does not adorn her face. The adornments now are colorful shiners under the eyes and a split lower lip.
"Damned authorities!"-she screamed to no one in particular,-"How can you so shamelessly burst into a private house, beat its owner, turn everything upside down?! And he just watched from a dark corner as his thugs smashed my expensive furniture! Quietly watched, thinking that I wouldn't notice him!!!
A minute later Neyra Drake quietly added:
"And I really didn't notice..."
At the end of the old park she again encountered Revan, just as angry as last time. Factually they had the same meeting, except now Revan made an obscene joke at Neyra Drake's expense, for which he got a handbag to the face.
"Don't quarrel, citizens,"-suddenly Gur said gently to them, as a result of which he also almost got a bag to the face.

The poor fellow was quite bad, even though someone successfully treated his wounds. Revan lay here for half the night, under the windows of a wealthy house belonging to Amko, and the owner surely didn't even suspect it. When the old man asked Revan what happened at night, he with his last strength only pointed to the roof of the neighboring house with a finger, and then lost consciousness.

-You see what he's done! Some brat got into my house and rummaged through it thoroughly while I slept!- Kash indignantly told one of the policemen about last night's events.
-And you didn't notice anything unusual?- the inspector asked in an absolutely calm and slightly indifferent voice.
-Unusual!?- Kash boiled over,- some scoundrel cleaned out my house! Is that usual to you!?
-Try to calm down and focus, please. Maybe you did hear or see something?
-I'm telling you, I was sleeping!!! I was woken up... although wait... I was woken up by the doorbell! Some guy wanted to sell me something... He was probably mocking me at that moment!! Vile...
-So, let's do without expressive characteristics. Better describe his features.
-Well I don't know,- Kash shrugged,- I didn't really remember him. It was in the middle of the night...
-Clear,- the inspector summarized dryly.

And so we return again to Neyra Drake. A couple more scratches and bruises were added to her old wounds, and with her furious gaze she could now simply incinerate. Such a state was quite explainable: at night they burst into her place again, and just as unceremoniously. As last time. She had only begun restoring the dwelling... Although this time they didn't start a pogrom—they just tortured Neyra Drake all night with their stupid questions and wouldn't let her go anywhere.
-Burn in Hell!- Neyra barked into the void, continuing to tidy up her house.

In the chair sat the dead body of the homeowner, Amko, humbly. A pistol lay near the chair, which had fired, judging by gunpowder traces, at least once. Two round bloody spots were clearly visible on the master's robe, one by the left lung, the second by the heart. In the bed lay a naked girl, also cold-bloodedly shot twice, just like Amko. A hot evening was interrupted by cold calculation and four shots.

Not far from the dead lovers, by the window, was another corpse. The third victim became Arandor. The police didn't even find him immediately—the body was slightly hidden by curtains. Arandor received more wounds than the previous two victims combined: one bullet got stuck in his hand, three others rested in the poor fellow's back. Investigators also found a hastily treated but already slightly healed wound on the left shoulder. A small glass lay symbolically by the corpse, and music by Jean-Philippe Rameau played no less symbolically in the house; beautiful, sunny music played for the dead bodies.
Later investigators would say that two other people had been in the house—apparently the killer and his accomplice.

-It's so sad,- Gur commented on the events of this night, shedding a slightly meager tear. Duality, or even triality, was read in his eyes: on one hand he felt great, on the other hand notes of fear slowly tormented his consciousness, and thirdly, he was still sincerely sad because of the same nocturnal tragedy. Thus, lighting a cigar, Gur went away to attend to his business.

-Saaaaad!- Hermit drawled maliciously, rubbing bruises,- that's how I was treated yesterday, they turned the whole house over! So many things torn, spoiled, taken! Pigs!

But first let's return to the events of the night. Here is an old, gloomy square. Two unknowns, wrapped in winter coats, were actively but at the same time quite quietly discussing something.
-Now you understand all the advantages of your participation, Monsieur?
-Yes, but I am risking a lot.
-Almost none. You will simply help us rid the world of him and will then be well rewarded, both materially and spiritually.
-1 million euros.
-You value yourself quite highly,- summarized the second one, rubbing his hands with satisfaction, and handed the briefcase to the first.
A scarlet rose petal fell on the white snow. But no one really noticed it.

Soon the one who gave the briefcase left, leaving the first in solitude. However, it did not last long, nor did his life. A bullet pierced the coat and hit exactly in the heart; drops of blood slowly streamed down toward that petal. The shot man grabbed the edge of the veranda, tried to keep himself on his feet, even knocked over a clay pot with something withered inside, but still collapsed onto the white, soft snow. And the moon still shone brightly; for a moment it seemed that its light suddenly became some greenish color of sadness, but this was only an illusion.
Thus Gur departed from life.

«Mr. Geler!
I ask you to pay increased attention to the situation in the city! The crime level is unusually high: criminals are already brazenly breaking into houses, beating their owners, robbing them, breaking furniture! And then they visit again, less obviously, but it's no easier for that! Someone broke into my house twice; the first time it was some brainless jocks, this time... I don't know who it was this time...
I beg you, Mr. Geler, do something!»
From Hermit's letter.

The corporation head himself (Lu41k) was in a good mood. Without thinking long, he therefore asked the secretary to throw this letter in the trash—why spoil the mood over trifles?
But Taco was completely in agreement with Hermit, although she had never seen him and didn't even know of his existence. But someone also visited her house without her knowledge, and this made her very angry.

It has been snowing for two days now. Huge flakes fell heavily on the cold streets. Only a rare brave soul dared to venture outside from a relatively warm house. The weather firmly bound Paris in an icy frost. Weakened and paralyzed, it resembled only a gloomy collection of blocks, a lifeless map. The authorities promised to fix the situation, but so far these statements look like empty chatter.
A large, wealthy house. A spacious living room with a large sofa under the window. A confident man carries a bottle of excellent whiskey and two glasses half-filled with ice.
-To our, hopefully, long and fruitful cooperation!- he said
-To cooperation! I have already managed to resolve your request. The casket with piastres will be yours in the middle of tomorrow.
-Excellent! It is truly a pleasure doing business with you!

While heartfelt conversations went merrily in one house, in another, less wealthy and spacious one, there was clearly no room for same own merriment—at this moment the police were searching it for clues. The fact is that the mistress of the house, Ta Kotoraya..., was shot this night. The killer caught her during a light dinner consisting of 2 chocolate eggs and a glass of milk. The consequences of power outages affected Taco as well, so she intended, apparently, by the light of a candle, of which only a paraffin stub remained by the time the police arrived.

it's almost ridiculously accurate