Kitabı oku: «Lilith»
Armando Lazzari
Lilith
Translated by
FATIMA IMMACOLATA PRETTA
Title | Lilith
Author | Armando Lazzari
Cover by the author
Translated by Fatima Immacolata Pretta
© (2021) All rights reserved to the Author (Armando Lazzari)
No part of this book may be reproduced without the prior consent of the Author.
AUTHOR'S NOTE:
This novel is a work of pure fantasy. Any reference to personal names, places, events, e-mail addresses, websites, telephone numbers, historical facts, whether they really existed or still existing, is to be considered purely coincidental and involuntary.
I apologize in advance to anyone reading the novel who may have felt insulted or mocked in any way by a sentence of mine, assuring you that it was not my intention.
For the rest, thank you and I wish everyone a good read.
Armando Lazzari
All literary rights in this work are exclusive property of the author.
Dedicated to:
My children Alexander and Nicole, always in my thoughts.
My wife Alessandra, my partner in life.
To my parents Marisa and Augusto, who gave me their life and illuminated the path.
To my sister Tatiana, may you like and enjoy yourself.
The inexplicable assumption, that the unreal is enclosed only in the distorted dreams of madmen,
it falters inexorably when the absurd, projecting itself into our reality, penetrates as deeply as it is
difficult to say that even a simple pointed stone can be such and not a dangerous and mysterious weapon that will tear our soul apart.
Armando Lazzari
Summary
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Epilogue
Appendix
Acknowledgments
Prologue
The chase
One hundred and twenty.
The foot, arching, pushes even harder on the accelerator.
One hundred and thirty.
The man looks in the rear-view mirror and curses through clenched teeth:
"Damn, they don't let up!"
One hundred and forty: the road is too bumpy and the risk is too great, but he can't help himself, because he knows that if they just catch up with him....
No!
He shakes his head, chasing away the thought of what they would do to him... or not do!
Another glance at the mirror gives him another concern.
"Oh gosh! The guns!"
One hundred and sixty: that's the limit, he can't go any higher than that, not there!
He knows he needs a solution soon.
Bhang! Bhang!
"Shit, shit, shit..."
The bullets fly past him like a swarm of angry wasps.
He understands that at that rate, he won't stand a chance. He needs reinforcements and activates the voice recognition command device.
"Menu. Phone: Activate. Address book: Father. Call."
Tuu! Tuu! Tuu!
"Pick up, come on... pick up Father!"
Bhang! Bhang! Crash!
The response comes in conjunction with the rear window explosion.
"Where are you? We have a problem."
"Just one, Father? I've got several here, problems, sticking behind my ass and shooting! Where's the cavalry at?"
"Five of the boys are dead...three others are badly wounded: I can't send you anyone else, I'm sorry but you'll have to manage on your own. I know you'll make it, you've been in worse situations."
The first challenging curves appear on the road, forcing him to decelerate considerably.
His gaze slips behind him once again and....
Lord Almighty! A missile launcher! Have they a fucking missile launcher?
"No, Father, this is the worst! Pray for me... and if you can't, at least pray for my soul..."
In front, at the end of the curves, he glimpses a straight. Logic would dictate that they use it there. At a glance he has only a handful of seconds left.
"Don't say that, you don't have to give up!"
"Okay, Father, I swear I'll try, but in the meantime wave to the guys for me and if the line drops...don't worry, sometimes missiles do."
The straightaway comes right on time and along with it he glimpses the buggers adjusting their aim as well.
"Either I pull a rabbit out of my hat now, or I'm toast! Speaking of rabbits: how the heck did Bugs Bunny always save himself?"
Chapter 1
The Awakening
Immemorial, lying on that double bed, my legs tangled in the sheets, I stare up at the ceiling made slightly opaque by time and, motionless with my arms outstretched, I try to recapture the memories of the previous night, faded like an echo from my mind.
The fierce rays of light filtering through the curtains are stabs in the eyes, but every muscle categorically refuses to respond to my calls, leaving me there to endure the torment, alone with my questions...
Red.
Long black hair.
Music.
It's just brief flashes that light up quickly in awareness, but the rest is still dark.
Driin! Driin!
The phone: cursed infernal device with an obnoxious sound.
Driin! Driin!
Stop it! Stop it!
Driin! Driin!
The ringing enters me and continues undaunted to echo. My whole head throbs following the incessant rhythm of the trill...
Damn it! Why don't you explode?
Driin...
Now the noise is softer, more distant, almost imperceptible.
The phone has stopped, but then why do I hear it anyway?
It's not real, that's why!
Yes, it's just the memory ringing and calling me, taking me back to the time when it all began...
Home
"Hello? Who is this?" I mumble with a slurred mouth.
"Hello Davide, this is Roberto, am I disturbing you?"
"No, no...tell me." Lie. At nine o'clock on a Sunday morning I'd kill an altar boy too!
"I just couldn't wait to tell you something incredible!" Typical euphoria: yesterday I met...
"Yesterday I met..." ... the most beautiful woman in the world!
"The most beautiful woman in the world!" Obvious. As is Roberto, by the way.
"It's... it's that I can't wait anymore! This time she's the one, she's... she's gorgeous!" Ouch! He stutters as well.
"And how... augh...," I yawn, " ... how did you meet her?"
Obvious question. I look around. Coffee. I'm craving, needing a liter of coffee.
"Do you remember I had made friends with that group of people in a chat room?"
"Yes..."
I catch a pot with cold coffee in it, put it on the stove, turn on the gas and wait.
"Well, we decided to meet at a club they attend often."
"And in this group you met the suave maiden?"
The coffee is now hot and I reach for the pot.
"Ouch!" Hot as hell, the damn thing!
I use a potholder and pour it into a glass.
"Not really, the only two girls in the group are...let's just say nice!"
That means: a real stinker.
"Then I guess I'm lost. Sorry, but when does the fairy show up?"
A teaspoon of sugar, I turn and taste.
"Blah!" It really sucks! Nothing like freshly brewed coffee. Idiots, me and my laziness.
"Keep calm, I don't want you to lose the taste." No mercy for sleep, though?
I listen silently, straining to swallow my dose of caffeine posing as a coffee substitute.
"When we entered the place, I thought that if they frequented such a place, it meant they were completely out of their minds! The decor resembled a catacomb, with coffin-shaped tables, skulls everywhere, and violent Heavy Metal music overwhelming you, all topped off with a rich and varied fauna of tattooed lunatics with serial killer faces."
"Um... a great place for a hot date! How did you survive?"
"All appearance, trust me. The bigger and more pierced they are, the more tame they are. Anyway, aside from the initial discomfort, after a couple of beers everything seemed a little more normal to me."
Thankfully, he called. Now I was hungry, too.
"The evening was going on quietly, nothing exciting, but it was going on. Then suddenly I noticed a girl sitting alone at a small table not far away. She was staring at me insistently. Beautiful, trust me! The great thing was that, with mischievous glances, she was doing nothing but inviting me to go to her. My heart rate tripled, I could feel the adrenaline whipping every inch of my body and I didn't give a damn what the others at the table were saying, I just thought I had to go to her and kiss her on the lips. She had fully bewitched me!"
I don't think it should be that hard to bewitch a drunk with the hormones of a revved up Lamborghini.
"I have no doubt to think so! So what did you do?"
Where had I put the cookies? Ah, there they are!
"I gathered my courage and did the first thing that popped into my head: I got up under the guise of going to the bathroom. I walked by her table and then flashed her my best smile!"
"Did she reciprocate?"
Cookies without salt? How the heck did I get that wrong?
"More than that! I've never seen a better smile! On the way to the bathroom I was practically flying! But now hold on tight here comes the best part of the story. When I came out of the bathroom, she was standing, leaning against a pillar, with her arms crossed waiting for me. You can imagine the look on my face when I saw her."
"Dumbstruck. Undoubtedly."
"Well, sort of, yes. I'm sure you would have been dumbfounded, too, in my place. She had on a decidedly short and very, very tight dress that highlighted her every curve perfectly in keeping with the universe. Trust me when I tell you that more generous than that, God could not have been!"
"Interesting...then what happened?"
"Then the first gaffe. She stares at me and says: are you going to seduce me with your hidden talents? I there and then don't understand and look at her curious about the strange question. She points at my pants and I realize that I had forgotten to unbutton my fly! Immediately I dissolve into a thousand excuses, while I try in every way to close the zipper, which was also jammed. At that point she stops me and says: don't worry, you did it.
How? What?
"Did you get it? What do you mean you got it? Don't tell me that..." He's mocking me! No doubt about it!
"It means she threw herself at me and while we were kissing she pushed me into the bathroom. Then she locked the door and...my God, I still can't believe it!"
Neither can I and I am a man provided with a lot of imagination....
For the first time since middle school he woke me up for a serious reason.
"But now you have to tell me everything in detail!"
You really managed to pique my curiosity.
"Actually, I'm a little bit confused, it's like I have a hole..." You've had that since birth.
"What the hell are you talking about? It's not like I asked you what cocktail you had, you can't not remember the most mind-boggling thing that's happened to you in the last ten years!" Maybe even twenty.
"It's weird, isn't it? And yes I was a little tipsy, but not totally drunk! I know something happened, but don't ask me what. I only remember that when I came out of the bathroom I was like in a trance and I staggered back to the table with the others, who in the meantime had given me up for lost." He raved.
"What happened to that woman? Did you ever see her again after that?"
"Yes, when we left, before leaving the club, she was standing by the door and smiling she came towards me. I was the last in line and kept contemplating her. She mischievously put her mouth to my ear and whispered: see you soon! Then she disappeared into the crowd."
"And when do you plan to go looking for her?" Assuming, in the best case scenario, you don't see her coming out of the bathroom with someone else.
"Tonight itself! I want to take her to my apartment this time though, the bed is certainly more comfortable!" He tries to sketch a half laugh of understanding. He fails badly.
"Roberto... I know you have already thought about it, but I recommend you: you don't know her well, try to be careful. Remember to take the right precautions..."
After all, he's a nice guy, a bit of a pain in the ass and quite petulant, but still a nice guy.
"Don't worry, I know what I'm doing and I've got a new twenty-four box. I have to say goodbye now, I have to get ready, I'll tell you all about it tomorrow at the office. Bye, Davide."
Twenty-four: call it just recovery.
"Sure! Bye and good luck."
With the hope that he would remember something later.
In bed
Now the sunlight is starting to fade. It's clouding over, a relief for my eyes. I loosen the grip with which I held them firmly closed. I feel a slight ache in my temples from exerting myself too long.
I stop struggling against the bed that keeps me encased, because I'm part of it now.
I try to open my eyes. Nothing doing, the eyelids are glued.
It's not possible! I can't stay here motionless waiting for someone to find me!
More minutes pass. Now the annoyance becomes anger.
I rebel, concentrating all myself on that simple movement that I will have done a million times. Easy, isn't it?
One, two and... three! Nothing.
Easy my ass!
But what's happening to me? What's happened to me? Is it possible that I don't remember anything from last night?
I smell something...where is this scent coming from?
Office
"Do you like it? My sister gave it to me for my birthday. Good, right?" Yes, I would recommend it to any prostitute.
"Do you decided to intoxicate the whole office? You're already wearing those armpit miniskirts, then you're also bathing in perfume, don't complain if someone gives you a good pat on the butt!"
Direct approach. Could this be the time she smiles and lets me know she wouldn't mind?
"Except for the fact that I put in very little...and besides, it's not like they're all maniacs like you, dear!"
Sour and moody like most secretaries. But do they take any special courses?
Attempting a smile, I flip through the mail she gently tossed to me on the counter.
"By the way, Francesca, has Roberto arrived yet?"
"Who, the klutz? No, he still hasn't shown up this morning. At the very least he's still trying to get his brain in gear, assuming he can find it."
It's more likely that he's walked by without her noticing him, since her attention is entirely focused on the nail art she carefully applies to her nails.
"Alright, thanks, I'm off to the office, but...don't tell me you have a white hair?"
I hold back my laughter and point to an unspecified spot in her thick hair.
"Where? No way!" Hit and miss.
Vanity: the woman's weak spot.
"And yes... I'm sorry, but it's right there. Must be the stress of overwork?"
I leave her to her hysterical search for the non-existent evil one, while she torches her hair, plucking at it like a monkey.
It's ten thirty, I huff and puff and throw my pen on the coffee table. Coffee break. But what happened to Roberto? Do you want to see that last night he came back from the nymphomaniac and she exhausted him so much that he hasn't recovered yet? I kick the vending machine that has swiped my coin twice. It works, the coffee comes out and meanwhile I try to call Roberto.
First ring: free.
Third ring: sooner or later he will answer.
On the fifth ring, the answering machine comes on. Where have you been?
"Beep!”
"Hi Roberto, it's Davide. Where have you been? If you can connect your brain, call me back. I'm at the office working and, many times you don't remember, that's the place you're supposed to be. Bye and call me!"
He has been sick twice already this month. If he has flu or related again and disappears another week leaving me with his paperwork, I swear I'll bring it straight to his door this time.
Seventeen forty, the end of the working day and Roberto still hasn't shown up. Maybe it would be better if I stopped by his place before going home, maybe he needs something.
Oh no, here we go again! Stuck in traffic. Freaking junction! It would take two of them, one on top of the other, not to widen it.
An hour and a half! It took me a damned hour and a half to get to his front door. On the intercom there is a sign: out of order. Luckily the front door is open. I go to the elevator. Another sign: out of order. What is this, a conspiracy? Doesn't anything work in this ruin of a building?
Sixth floor: hurriedly I arrive in front of the door and without any formalities I attach my finger to the bell.
Come on, answer! Don't tell me you made me come all the way here for nothing, or I'll kill you!
I hear some noises, I stop ringing.
I look at the door: still noises in the background.
"Roberto! It's me: Davide. Come on, open up!"
I knock so hard that even a deaf ninety year old could hear me.
Latch sounds. Hallelujah!
When he finally decides to open, I destroy the smile I'd been wearing and replace it with a chilled expression. "What the hell happened to you?"
He looks like he's aged thirty years. His face is gaunt and waxy.
"Ah, it's you. Come...come in."
Even his voice is altered: hoarse and phlegmy. I follow his footsteps, traipsing down the hall.
"My God, how badly you're hurt!"
He doesn't answer, coughs, and lets his weight drop onto the couch. I sit in the chair across from him and look at him worriedly.
"Did you call the doctor? You look like hell!"
And I'm a big optimist.
"No, I haven't had time yet..."
"What? I'm sorry, but then what have you been doing all day?"
Turning his head, he looks at an undefined point outside the window.
"I've been sleeping and maybe... dreaming."
"No, wait, I left you yesterday morning spewing energy everywhere with the story of that and then you disappear. When I find you again you sound like my grandfather and you're rambling like crazy! Let me hear if you have a fever."
I quickly bring my hand up to his forehead, he tries to fight back scared, but can't. His hands are freezing cold and his forehead is as hot as an iron.
"You're hot! But did you fall into the oven? That's it, I'm calling the doctor!"
"No! I can't go to the hospital! She promised me that tonight..."
Complaining, he struggles. I ignore him and pick up the phone. I dial the number.
"Oh yeah? Then I guess that means we'll put a nice sign on the door to match everyone else...hello, is this the doctor's office?"
Within ten minutes the ambulance arrives. To calm him down, the doctors are forced to administer a sedative and load him with the stretcher into the ambulance car.
Heralded by the roar of the engine, a motorcycle pulls up alongside. On it, straddling it, is a guy dressed in black leather who is watching us carefully. He realizes I've noticed him. He takes off his helmet and when he shows off a long black hair, I notice amazed that it is not a he but a she. Damn, she's very beautiful too! Could she be Roberto's mysterious lover? But if it's her, why doesn't she run worriedly to the ambulance?
She gives me an enquiring look, then quickly fastens her helmet, starts the engine and with a deafening noise disappears into the horizon.
The ambulance sirens bring me back to reality. I rush to my car and follow her to the hospital.
The bench in the waiting room is uncomfortable and cold: whatever, I don't have to sleep on it.
A doctor approaches, quickly peeks at a clipboard and calls me by name.
"Yes, it's me! How is Roberto Capua?"
"Well, undoubtedly better, but how did he get like this? When I saw his papers I didn't want to believe his date of birth."
"I assure you, doctor, that until a few days ago he was in excellent shape. I was amazed, too, when I found him in that state. But what exactly is wrong with him?"
He is puzzled. Perhaps more than I am.
"It is difficult to say. We noted considerable blood loss, as if he had suffered a severe arterial bleed, but we found no evidence to confirm it: general absence of wounds on the body, lack of bloodstains on the clothing. Also, from what you stated at intake, you didn't notice any bloodshed in the environment where he was found."
"I confirm that, the house was clean."
Secular dust excluded.
"In any case, since there is no runoff in progress, the leak is a secondary problem that doesn't involve big consequences, at least on a normal subject. The fact that struck me is the physical deterioration of your friend: in a few words, he seems to have suddenly aged a few decades. To your knowledge, has he ever suffered from any particular pathology that would justify this state?"
"No, at least he has never told me about it, but I repeat that he has always been in excellent shape." So far.
"Do you have any relatives I could talk to?"
All I can think of is Sara...
"I know he has a sister who lives just outside of Rome. I had the intention to call her, but without a response from you I didn't want to alarm her for nothing... at this point, though, I think I'll contact her soon. In the meantime, could I see him?"
"It is better you come back tomorrow, he needs to rest and he's under control, take it easy."
Before leaving, I leave my and Sara's information.
On leaving the hospital I decided to anticipate them, I called her to explain the situation trying not to alarm her too much.
It was useless, she was very worried. She tells me that she would have rushed there. It's nice to know that there's still someone who can feel sorry for you....
On my way home I can't help but think about what happened to Roberto and I'm partly ashamed of what I thought about him on Sunday. I'm looking for a rational explanation: maybe he's suffering from one of those rare hereditary diseases, but I don't know why my thoughts go to that strange girl.
Could she have given him some special drug?
C’mon! Do you want to see that now she belongs to a team of crazy scientists doing genetic experiments on poor unfortunates?
It's ok, let's joke about it, the fact is that I don't know any other way to exorcise my fears.
Poor guy, what a shame!
Isn't that... yes, it's the black bike. It's unmistakable! Do you want to see if the woman in the story was really her? But I can't see her in the admissions department, and I don't even think they allowed her into her room. Maybe I'm wrong.
