The place where the Moon lives

Avia opened the door and froze. She had not appeared here for more than two years, avoiding even the thought of this place. The cold air blew from the apartment, as if the refrigerator door had opened. Exhale. A cloud of steam slowly floated into the darkness. Octavia took a gun from her bag, hoping that it would help her out of the abyss of despair. Hope huddled in her heart, occupying the modestly most distant corner of it. The barrel of the gun looked deep into the apartment. Carefully stepping inside, her hand trembled involuntarily. The fear that she seemed to overcome, burst out. Perhaps he is not here. And today nothing will change. But she will no longer have the strength to return here. There is no turning back, although her brain worked hard to develop an escape plan. The door slammed shut, cutting off the path to retreat.

“Hello my dear,” sweet as a ripe peach, a voice sailed from the depths of the apartment. Too sweet, too familiar, too scary.

Avia didn’t answer. His voice aroused not only fear. Each of his words pulled a string of hatred. And those strings were about to rip, destroying her target - him. The main thing is to hide thoughts. Hide the most valuable thing! Octavia trained in this skill. Wandering in a fog of thoughts, confusing even herself. Sometimes it seemed to her that she was crazy. And only one circumstance brought her to her senses. Avia stopped herself at this thought, directing a stream of consciousness into hatred. One word in response and all training, all torment and loss will become an empty place. One wrong thought - and everything will become dust. Her eyes got used to the darkness, her steps became more confident. The floorboard creaked. Octavia flinched. She already forgot about it. She did not want to remember this place at all, obliterating every day she spent here. There’s nobody in the living room. So he is in the kitchen, or in the bedroom. From this word, memories whispered from the past. Hands trembled stronger.

Laughter poured out of the darkness.

"How lovely, just now remembering our bedroom. Octavia, we can always repeat everything you wish!"

"Never!" the words themselves burst out of their chest, accompanied by clouds of steam, and nothing could stop them. Damn! “Fog”. “Fog”. “Fog”. The carousel of that word spun in her head.

"My girl, you know that with me never turns into forever!"

"This is the end?!" through tears and sobs said Avia. She did not notice the first tears that appeared as soon as the door slammed behind her. Everything is meaningless... One thing is good - there will be no more fear, no pain, no hatred. Everything will go away.

"Everything depends on your point of view, my dear. Sometimes the end is only the beginning."

"Damn philosopher!"

In response, only laughter, soft as a winter scarf, which was too tightly wrapped around the neck. Choking tight ... Last breath, she so wanted to send it to hell, or at least try to shoot. The cheeks were crusted with ice, freezing every tear spilled. Silhouettes faded. Her thoughts were confused, jumping from one memory to another and losing the thread with reality. A hot kiss on the cheek, melted the ice. The heat poured lava from the cheek into the neck, spreading in seconds throughout the body. Her mind seemed sober for a couple of minutes, and at that moment Avia regretted it very much. Fire consumed her, eating her body, centimeter by centimeter. She wanted to scream, but it seemed that her face no longer existed. “I love you,” the thought flashed quickly, and just as quickly burned out in the heat. Everything went out. Deafening silence.

He lifted Octavia’s body from the floor and carried it to the bedroom. Gently laid her on the bed, which still remembered the warmth of their bodies. Corrected her charred dress and the rest of her hair.

"My dear, I was happy to meet you," whispered sweet voice. "But you knew too much. Your curiosity has played against you." He touched her cheek, drawing a sign with his fingers on the charred skin, his personal difference is a ball on fire.

"Ugh, how disgusting," brushing off his fingers burnt skin particles.

He got out of bed, straightened his jacket, shirt, brushed off his pants. Glancing at Octavia, he smiled broadly, pleased with his work.

"Goodbye my dear!"