Chronicles of the Wolf

8

The closest was one hotel from the points of Wentworth, already in another city, but close.

Olga dialed her number.

— Hello...— there was no one on the other end. —We'll kill the crocodile, and we'll leave the ants for later...—

— And if the ants, after the death of the crocodile, take and swat the wolf?— Maria appeared as if from a void nearby.— We're ready.—

— Yes, yes... I've thought about it many times already...— Olga looked around.— I'm coming now...—

***

— ... I'm not going to live in slavery!—

The blade cuts through the face.

The eye is flowing.

The field of vision decreases and blood pours down the face...

From this dream, Wentworth Karsten always has pain somewhere there, in the chest, where the heart should be.

Someone is diligently beating his fists on the door of his office and bedroom part-time.

— Chief, come out!— there is a shout.—We're on fire!—

Wentworth realized just now—the antique wooden panels on the walls were starting to crack.

Not much time passe