CHAPTER 4

In the flashback, Fox and Zoey are playing chess while the guys are sitting side by side looking for new places to visit. The room is light, and there are no old gramophones, music flows from modern speakers. The guys themselves look for information on their handheld computers, communications and entertainment sources called smartphones. Wherever they lived, this place was much more advanced in technical equipment than Nightmare City. Zoey is a regional chess champion, the guys don't even try to start a game with her, only the Fox always keeps her company. The leader always wins, but the funny Fox never gets upset because of this, saying that she likes the process of the game more than the result. Although even her amateurish strategy with hints of madness sometimes makes Zoe sweat to successfully defeat the king of her friend.

New memory. Scorching sun. The Burning Man festival, they're all dressed up in alcoholic cowboy costumes, hung with garlands and bottles, like upright holiday trees. Only water is bottled, but the image is more reminiscent of a frequenter of taverns due to a shaky gait. Garlands are necessary in twilight and darkness. The unsteady gait is provided by the earthen flooring of the dried-up lake. They are having fun, but already a little sad at the thought that the festival is about to end. Fox and Charlie are already making new acquaintances, which means that at the end of the festival, the four may be waiting for an unexpected offer to visit a mysterious place or somehow continue the holiday.

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“What are we afraid of? There are four of us and we are never separated! Let all the maniacs be afraid of us!” is the motto of the Four. This motto was simply bound to backfire, sooner or later. And, judging by the whereabouts of Alex, the consequences of their frivolity struck the alarm.

“We have become too trusting. We were sure that the minions of fate, since we take from life everything that we want ourselves, without asking anyone for mercy. Something happened, but what exactly?!”

Too generous memory oversaturated Alex's mind with events from a past life, and in this ocean of events, he could not take the righteous path in any way to find the very last memory before oblivion.

New picture. Somehow there are three of them. And this unpleasant feeling of icy goosebumps running along the ridge. They are in hot Istanbul, in a beautiful temple, busy examining this architectural miracle, but the soul is not in place. Something terrible has happened, something irreparable, but the main thing is that something terrible is about to happen. fatal. Why are there three? Fox, Charlie and Alex. Where is Zoey? Why are they all pale and haggard, why is there fear in everyone's eyes, and why are their shoulders hunched? Why is he himself as if in a cocoon of decadent feelings? It's so beautiful here, so hot, there are so many wonderful people around and it's like a holiday around, but the three of them seem to be in their own dimension, where there is only cold, dusk and suffocating fear.

"When you look into the Darkness, the Darkness looks into you!" - revolve in the language of the word. Gloomy, without context, devoid of meaning, but for some reason they replaced their old motto with them.

One more fragment. Road. For some reason there are only three of them. They ride forward without a meaningful goal. They don't know where they're going, but they can't stop. You just need to keep moving. Fox and Charlie are even more haggard. Fox's face is sobbing, and Charlie's eyes alone reflect the horror in which he is shackled. Alex drives the car, urging himself to think only about the road, because otherwise thoughts will lead to ... what? He does not want to think about anything but the road, does not want to talk with close friends and seemed to be no longer capable of bright emotions. On the soul is not just a stone, but a whole gravestone, on which the inscription: "You are next" is engraved.

“And if we saw something that could not be seen?” Alex thought as he drew spirals in the dust under the bed.

The more memories, the more of these “what ifs”. Frightening pieces of memory, not yet collected by consciousness into a clear picture, led to a conclusion that the guy did not like at all.

A small piece of memory. They enter the City of Nightmares. They enter themselves. Voluntarily ... further only fog.

“What if the city isn’t the worst thing that happened to me?”

Where are the others? Where are Charlie and Zoe? What happened to Lis? Why is he alone? Why didn't you remember any of them? Why did they volunteer to enter the city? What were they running from? Are there any other letters in the library in which he could reveal a little more truth to himself? If he remembered himself, then what now? Will the city let him go or will he eat him the next night and leave no bones? Had he gotten to that frontier of memory before?

Dawn dawned outside the window. The fog began to clear. Lovecraft's monsters are also gone, as is Miss Hope, for whom Alex had a lot of questions. But first of all, it is necessary to start the morning of the librarian Thomas.

***

The library was opened without delay, but Alex's thoughts were far from work. Lazily noticing from his notes that only a grocer would come into the library on Tuesdays closer to dinner, the guy rushed to look for clues in the library.

Methodically recalling his habits, he tapped each shelf and examined each table in detail. But unlike the hiding place in the headboard, he was going to fail. There were no hollow shelves, countertops, or other hiding places. The rest of the library furniture, as well as the lamps, were examined next. But nothing was found there either. The time was drawing near for dinner. Out of breath and disheveled, Alex had to take a break, rushing to his desk, "putting on" Thomas's friendly smile.

At precisely half past eleven, the grocer entered the library with the ringing of the doorbell. Alex greeted the older man warmly, realizing that, having taken Thomas' place, he couldn't remember all the names of the townspeople he knew before. The temporary personality disappeared, taking with it habits and part of the memory. We managed to read the grocer's name on the work badge, which he did not take off, obviously escaping into the library for a short break.

The visitor did not suspect anything and, as always, asked for the book "Dracula" by Bram Stoker. In the reader's card, the same entry was repeated in a column. Glancing at the card, Alex froze for a moment, and then, quickly handing the book to the grocer, frantically searched for his reader card. Thomas meticulously wrote down even those books that he borrowed for several hours and returned before the end of the working day.

Left alone, the librarian began to take from the shelves and lay out on the table all the books that Thomas had read. There have been a lot of books. However, this time he hit the jackpot. The enclosed sheets would be enough for a small book of my own. Some letters were repeated and almost did not differ from the letter found in the headboard. A "chain letter" to himself reminding him that he lives an ephemeral life in Nightmare City. In some letters, the younger witch Hope was mentioned, either with the hope of her help, or with misgivings about her actions.

“However, nothing new. It's like I'm driving another lap on the children's railroad in the park. Same views, same path!” Alex noted sadly, returning all the letters to himself in his books, putting a few aside to hide in his desk and furniture.

“If history with oblivion repeats itself, at least one letter must be found as quickly as possible!”

Some of the hidden sheets turned out to be regular newspaper clippings. At first glance, nothing remarkable, but with a red marker, Thomas left clues for Alex. Articles that didn't mean anything mentioned seasonal carnivals, the fair's schedule for the upcoming Halloween, and the date of the newspaper's release. Mid October 1996. “The exact date in which the city existed, with the change of seasons and holidays?! Without a timetable for the lives of zombie villagers forced to stick to a script!"

The date has become the key. At least until the fall of 1996, the city lived a normal provincial life. A search of other newspaper clippings confirmed the hunch, but all other entries dated before 1996. Next, Alex was waiting for a gift of fate with letters to himself, made in the form of a kind of investigation report.

“ I checked archive records. It's hard to say which of these will help me escape, unless, of course, tomorrow I forget about everything I've ever done.

I think the answer to the question of what happened to this city is not as simple as it seems. Some of the strangeness of this city, according to the oldest records, began in the period from 1986 to 1996. Newspapers were still being published, but some of the articles were inconsistent with each other, as if some devilry had already begun to happen to the memory of the newspapermen. According to the notes, over those 10 years people began to actively disappear, but the city forgot about it in a couple of days.

Also in the found correspondence, I found disturbing messages encrypted in the context. Someone continued to remember the missing people and even knew exactly where they disappeared, however ... there is some kind of inconsistency here. The letters use terms as if not people are disappearing from the city somewhere, but someone is recruiting or recruiting people. As if there was either a civil war on the territory of the city, or a dismantling of mafia clans.

While nothing is clear, but since 1996 the city has become what it is now. Time stood still, people froze, and all life froze. Even the seasons have stopped. Is it time to start believing in witches and start hunting them?”

The next letter turned out to be a plan of action with notes made, apparently, later.

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