Danya Kashin

Ancient mythology divides the universe into heaven, hell, and earth, where sins carry weight and fate remains silent about consequences. School years, full of horror stories, can turn into a confrontation with the unknown.

Hot summer, holidays—a time for carefree games and scary stories. But this time, the fun went further. A chance phone conversation, full of laughter and skepticism about the existence of angels and demons, led to a discussion of school rituals like The Queen of Spades and Charlie. Deciding to test the reality of the frightening images from books, the group sprang into action.

Her friend's nervousness gave way to determination as salt rained down on the floor, drawing a circle. According to the forum instructions, the salt was supposed to act as a boundary for the summoned beings. The words she spoke seemed alien, and the wind died down. Darkness thickened in the corner of the room, and from it, without crossing the salty line, a young man emerged. His fiery red hair and clear, azure eyes, filled with melancholy, belied the image of a demon or an angel. He was something in between, "stuck between worlds."

His silence was full of questions. The salt around him thinned, the boundaries crumbled. He was free. An unexpected warmth filled his soul, a feeling that the stranger wouldn't leave even if he asked. The desire for him to stay warred with an animal fear. His hand reached out to the salt, drawing a circle around himself, fencing himself off.

He watched with a smirk, a mixture of desire and panic. Addressing him, but now fearful, the heroine drew a new barrier. He stepped forward, crossing the remains of the first circle, and stopped at the edge of the new refuge.

"Fool," he said in a low, hoarse voice, "you ask me to stay, but you draw a salty circle." A look of weariness and the mockery of a fallen creature flashed in his eyes.