Sundowning Diary: part 5

By Farhad Mammadov

It was a very naughty corner, how the old bald bastard used to call it before stabbing me to half-death for money. The corner with supernatural environment where all misfortunes cross. Serious of random events no one had control over. The most deadliest spot of Soviet period industrial zone between my home town Mardakan and neighbouring Buzovna. This is where i found my golden watch.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Farhad Mammadov
• Release date: Mar 4, 2018
• ISBN: 9781370882274

Farhad Mammadov

Farhad Mammadov Fikret,28, young muslim science-fiction, horror author from Azerbaijan with already 8 published (online) works, real occupation- interpreter (from English to Azeri and vice-versa). Worked for United Nations Department of Public Information for 3 month as an intern, and was hired by Mitsubishi Heavy Industries as an interpreter during C-inspection of Severnaya Power Plant. Now working on his next story from horror his series of Spooky stories.

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SUNDOWNING DIARY

PART 5

By Farhad Mammadov

Smashwords Edition

Copyright 2018 Farhad Mammadov ****************************************************************

Smashwords Edition, License Notes Thank you for downloading this ebook. This book remains the copyrighted property of the author, and may not be redistributed to others for commercial or non-commercial purposes. If you enjoyed this book, please encourage your friends to download their own copy from their favorite authorized retailer. Thank you for your support. ******************************************************************

CHAPTER 15

DARK TOURIST

It was dark and cold inside the cell. No activity going on for weeks. With all time at his disposal, he was confined to four walls longing for changes; he had lost the fear of death and self-respect. Forced his mind to recall happy times from the past, unable to control the time, identify the dates. God knows how many years he’d been locked up; he had no clue what time of the day or night it was. The cell without a window, had its own sun, shining once a day when prison guard passed his food (same old lentil soup, barely basic ration, devoid of all vital ingredients and vitamins) and badly smelling tea through a trapdoor on the bottom of the door.

Separated from all the people he loved, Kuzba became the only living creature he communicated for not going totally insane. Kuzba is the name of a fat rat he befriended almost 2-3 years ago. Feeding him with crumbles of dry bread on daily basis, he trained him to do number of things that could have gone viral on internet if shot by a camera. Kuzba was a faithful pal, protecting him from his angry, hungry ‘rodent comrades’, brown rats, massaging his hurting right leg, nabbing off his hard to reach, long toe nails. But mainly it had been the squeaks of Kuzba that kept the dialogue alive, motivating him to use his organs of speech, to break the annoying silence.

First he heard the unprecedented sound, then saw light shining through the crack as someone was opening the door. He really didn’t remember the last time this door opened. In a split second light from the corridor spilled in blinding him temporary. But later he was staring at gigantic, pot-bellied guard in khaki uniform wearing respiratory mask, standing in the doorway, and a scary senior man in black suit and round –shaped glasses standing right behind him. Guard was holding something in his right fist. He raised his hand, tilted it back a little bit and threw handful of white powder right in his face, emptying all contents he was hiding. It was a white compound used as a disinfectant, with strong unpleasant odor which had irritated his nostrils and facial skin after contact. He coughed at least ten times.

Done. It’s safe now, you can come in,Sir.!- said guard in a respectful manner. Then turned and stepped backward letting the senior man enter the cell. The latter was literally pressing the handkerchief bombarded with Arabian perfume to his nose, in order to somehow reduce the nasty smell. Without saying a word, he made a gesture asking the guard to leave them alone.

All right then, I’ll come back after 5 minutes – he uttered like a pimp organizing intercourse for a sexually hungry person.

Senior man was still holding handkerchief on his left hand as he sat on small wooden stool he brought with him. In the meantime, his best friend Kuzba had fled the scene squeaking angrily for inconvenience and fear caused by uninvited guests.

Sorry for bad smell. Toilet clogged weeks ago. But I have already got used to that smell.

That's OK – he said in a barely heard calm voice. He seemed suffering from some acute disease. That is something irrelevant at moment

"I’m not going to ask who you are? Just tell me why are you here?

Let’s say, I wanna propose you a deal you cannot reject

Such a confidence, why are you so damned sure about it.

He kept the prisoner in a suspense for a moment, then words popped through his pressed, hidden lips with curious look on his face.

As you said – he ignored the prisoner's last question – My personality is of less importance, so I’ll cut to the chase. We know you’re notorious dark tourist who is named in number of gruesome political scandals; Chernobyl , training camps of Kurdish militants, number of death chambers, mass decapitation sites, and other banned, cursed, or high-security, restricted areas, you name it. You like to visit sites of death and destruction and experience the dark side of world history.

I see you did your homework – the prisoner said smiling and leaned back to tough low matrass bed.

Dusk has settled over the prison – the guest uttered incoherently. Then he took the handkerchief from his mouse, revealing deep fresh scar across his upper lip.

So what?

Let me tell you a little secret. – he leaned forward whispering - this dungeon they put you in is not real.

All right, anything else. Don’t miss any details. I want to know all

I’m serious. This place is not real, and even you are not real

Yeah, yeah, yeah…Yesterday I would have agreed to extra 5 years in prison, for talking to someone. But after talking to you uncle, it seems you are actually wasting my time. So leave and let me be.

"Never