"Barker, Clive - The Hellbound Heart" - читать интересную книгу автора (Barker Clive)

The door was answered by Julia. In her hand, a length of white lace.
"Kirsty," she said, apparently unfazed by her appearance. "It's late..."
"Where's Rory?" were Kirsty's first words. They hadn't been quite what she'd intended, but they came out unbidden.
"He's here," Julia replied calmly, as if seeking to soothe a manic child. "Is there something wrong?"
"I'd like to see him," Kirsty answered.
"Rory?"
"Yes..."
She stepped over the threshold without waiting for an invitation. Julia made no objection, but closed the door behind her.
Only now did Kirsty feel the chill. She stood in the hallway and shivered.
"You look terrible," said Julia plainly.
"I was here this afternoon," she blurted. "I saw what happened, Julia. I saw. "
"What was there to see?" came the reply; her poise was unassailed.
"You know."
"Truly I don't."
"I want to speak to Rory..."
"Of course," came the reply. "But take care with him, will you? He's not feeling very well."
She led Kirsty through to the dining room. Rory was sitting at the table; there was a glass of spirits at his hand, a bottle beside it. Laid across an adjacent chair was Julia's wedding dress. The sight of it prompted recognition of the lace swath in her hand: it was the bride's veil.
Rory looked much the worse for wear. There was dried blood on his face, and at his hairline. The smile he offered was warm, but fatigued.
"What happened...?" she asked him.
"It's all right now, Kirsty," he said. His voice barely aspired to a whisper. "Julia told me everything...and it's all right."
"No," she said, knowing that he couldn't possibly have the whole story.
"You came here this afternoon."
"That's right."
"That was unfortunate."
"You...you asked me..." She glanced at Julia, who was standing at the door, then back at Rory. "I did what I thought you wanted."
"Yes. I know. I know. I'm only sorry you were dragged into this terrible business."
"You know what your brother's done?" she said. "You know what he summoned?"
"I know enough," Rory replied. "The point is, it's over now."
"What do you mean?"
"Whatever he did to you, I'll make amends-"
"What do you mean, over?"
"He's dead, Kirsty."
("...deliver him alive, and maybe we won't tear your soul apart.')
"Dead?"
"We destroyed him, Julia and I. It wasn't so difficult. He thought he could trust me, you see, thought that blood was thicker than water. Well it isn't. I wouldn't suffer a man like that to live..."
She felt something twitch in her belly. Had the Cenobites got their hooks in her already, snagging the carpet of her bowels?
"You've been so kind, Kirsty. Risking so much, coming back here..."
(There was something at her shoulder. "Give me your souls " it said.)
"I'll go to the authorities, when I feel a little stronger. Try and find a way to make them understand..."
"You killed him?" she said.
"Yes."
"I don't believe it..." she muttered.
"Take her upstairs," Rory said to Julia. "Show her."
"Do you want to see?" Julia inquired.
Kirsty nodded and followed.
It was warmer on the landing than below, and the air greasy and gray, like filthy dishwater. The door to Frank's room was ajar. The thing that lay on the bare boards, in a tangle of torn bandaging, still steamed. His neck was clearly broken, head set askew on his shoulders. He was devoid of skin from head to foot.
Kirsty looked away, nauseated.
"Satisfied?" Julia asked.
Kirsty didn't reply, but left the room and stepped onto the landing. At her shoulder, the air was restless.
("You lost," something said, close by her.