Сознательное и бессознательное.

Морген продвигает повестку, вводит моду среди молодежи на обращение к психологам и психиаторам. Точнее поддерживает эту моду. Нейролептики и антидепрессанты которые они назначают ничего не "лечат" а просто превращают человека в овощ. Так как разрушают лобную долю мозга. А это проблемы с коммуникацией, апатия, депрессия и прочие "букеты" на всю оставшуюся жизнь. Это страшно на самом деле. Но так уничтожает нашу молодежь, элита, и американские менеджеры, никогда не шутите с этим.

Мои наблюдения по сериалу Игра в кальмара 1 сезон.

Ну во первых, символы..

My observations on the series Squid Game season

Well, first of all, the symbols..

Знаменитый черный куб. Он довольно часто встречается в поп культуре. Черный квадрат Малевича например. Символизирует черный куб планету сатурн, ну а она в свою очередь Люцифера.

Небольшая справка о мечети в форме идеального куба из Википедии. Кстати главная мечеть ислама.

The famous black cube. It is quite common in pop culture. For example, Malevich's black square. The black cube symbolizes the planet Saturn, and it in turn symbolizes Lucifer.

A little information about the mosque in the form of a perfect cube from Wikipedia. By the way, the main mosque of Islam.

Каа‌ба (араб. الكعبة المشرفة‎ — Аль-Ка'бату-ль-Мушаррафа‎ «Досточтимая Кааба») — мусульманская святыня в виде кубической постройки во внутреннем дворе мечети аль-Харам (Заповедная мечеть) в Мекке. Это одно из основных мест, собирающее, согласно кораническим предписаниям, паломников во время хаджа. Кааба носит символическое имя «Аль-Бейту-ль-Харам», что означает в переводе с арабского «Заповедный дом».

Ну с треугольником иллюминатов думаю итак всем все понятно. Картинки выше.

Ну а круг это солнце-Христос. По схеме игры Христос проходит через куб и треугольник, и превращается в антихриста-всевидящее око. Вообщем смысл этой игры не просто развлечение "бохатых", а масонская мистерия, для отыгрывания негативного сценария "превращения" Христа в Антихриста. Его раздвоение. Собственно и сам сериал для этого был снят. Так как чем больше людей увидят, то есть поучаствуют в мистерии, тем лучше. Это ценность и магия нашего с Вами внимания.

Кстати о кругах.

Well, I think everyone understands the Illuminati triangle. The pictures are above. And the circle is the sun-Christ. According to the game scheme, Christ passes through a cube and a triangle, and turns into the Antichrist-the all-seeing eye. In general, the meaning of this game is not just entertainment for the "rich", but a Masonic mystery, for playing out a negative scenario of the "transformation" of Christ into the Antichrist. His bifurcation. Actually, the series itself was filmed for this. Because the more people see, that is, participate in the mystery, the better. This is the value and magic of our attention.

Speaking of circles.

Напомню, в сериале есть три типа работников.

Обслуга - это с символом круга на лице. Они занимаются готовкой еды, уборкой. Символ круг - Христос-очищает грехи и дает хлеб насущный. Солнце-Христос. "Козел отпущения". Ну или мы с Вами. Низший уровень.

Let me remind you that there are three types of workers in the series. Servants - those with a circle symbol on their faces. They cook and clean. The circle symbol is Christ - he cleanses sins and gives daily bread. The Sun is Christ. "Scapegoat". Or you and me. The lowest level.

Треугольные. "Иллюминаты" те что носят маски с треугольником на лице. Это основные работники, занимаются убийствами, контролем, и конвоируют игроков на новые задания.

Triangular. "Illuminati" are those who wear masks with a triangle on their face. These are the main workers, they are engaged in murders, control, and escort players to new missions.

Ну и самые главные. Это те что носят квадратный символ на маске. Это контроль. Никакой другой работы они не выполняют. У меня в голове возникла параллель с людьми востока. Все эти шейхи миллиардеры, которые по сути особо не делают ничего. Но при этом все эти "деятели" вроде Илон Маска катаются к ним на поклон.

Well, the most important ones. These are the ones who wear the square symbol on their mask. This is control. They do not do any other work. I had a parallel with the people of the East in my head. All these sheikhs are billionaires who essentially do nothing special. But at the same time, all these "activists" like Elon Musk go to them to bow down.

Есть также ведущий, он следит в целом за процессом игры. Он руководит всем. Есть вип зрители, о них чуть позже. И главный надзиратель. Он там и сам если помните поучаствовал в игре под номером 1. А его золотая маска зрителя это сова.

There is also a host, he watches the game process as a whole. He manages everything. There are VIP spectators, more about them later. And the main supervisor. He himself, if you remember, participated in the game under number 1. And his golden mask of the spectator is an owl.

Ну с совой все понятно. Тут отсылки к садовнику Аида обличившему Персефону в поедании 7 зерен граната, и лишившейся от этого возможности уйти из царства мертвых.

Вот и сами випы.

Well, everything is clear with the owl. There are references to Hades' gardener who exposed Persephone for eating 7 pomegranate seeds, and because of this, she lost the opportunity to leave the kingdom of the dead.

Here are the VIPs themselves.

Их всего шесть. Сова это седьмой гость. Кстати как и зерен граната съеденных Персефоной.

There are only six of them. The owl is the seventh guest. By the way, like the pomegranate seeds eaten by Persephone.

Интересна и зала в которой они находятся. Она словно в пурпурном тумане. Который стабильно фигурирует в теория заговора.

Так же сочетание красного и синего. Красное вино они пьют, или не вино? Что интересно?

The room they are in is also interesting. It is as if in a purple fog. Which is consistently featured in conspiracy theories. Also the combination of red and blue. Are they drinking red wine or not? Are they drinking red wine or not? Пьют ли они красное вино или нет?

Если представить, что каждый из гостей является представителем какого то государства, то можно понять, какую роль его страна играет в мире. Синий это жертва, красный это агрессор.

Вот например леопард, если не ошибаюсь. Это точно Америка. Его коврик красный. А раб мк с леопардовым окрасом. Это если помните сексуальное бета рабство.

If we imagine that each of the guests is a representative of some state, then we can understand what role their country plays in the world. Blue is a victim, red is an aggressor. For example, here is a leopard, if I'm not mistaken. This is definitely America. His rug is red. And the slave mk with leopard coloring. This is if you remember sexual beta slavery.

Он, если помните пытается склонить переодетого полицейского к сексу, но полючает от него пиз--ей, это видимо намек на то что Америка терпит неудачу с Северной Кореей, но потом, если помните, оказалось что ведущий это брат полицейского. И как Вы помните этот брат (символизирующий видимо Южную Корею) потом убивает своего брата полицейского, тем самым совершив предательство. Правда вопрос о том выживет ли Корея Северная (полицейский) остается открытым вроде бы.

Так же американский леопард напомнил мне мою несостоявшуюся любовь. Более известную как мистер Бист. Он же мистер зверь. Самый популярный блоггер в мире. Кстати имеющий на своем канале повтор игры в кальмара, только без убийств. Но с тем же кол вом участников. А сейчас снимающий Игры Биста, так же похожие на Игру в Кальмара своей спецификой.

Вот логотип его канала.

He, if you remember, tries to persuade a disguised policeman to have sex, but gets a beating from him, this is probably a hint that America is failing with North Korea, but then, if you remember, it turned out that the host is the policeman's brother. And as you remember, this brother (symbolizing apparently South Korea) then kills his policeman brother, thereby committing treason. True, the question of whether North Korea (the policeman) will survive remains open, it seems.

Also, the American leopard reminded me of my failed love. Better known as Mr. Beast. He is also Mr. Beast. The most popular blogger in the world. By the way, he has a rerun of the squid game on his channel, only without the killings. But with the same number of participants. And now he is filming the Beast Games, which are also similar to the Squid Game in their specifics.

Here is his channel logo.

А вот и сам красавчегг.

mir Beast.

Очень жду Вашу реакцию, может кто тоже что то интересное заметил в сериале?

Напишите мне в комментах, разбирать ли остальных 6 вип гостей? Если тема интересна.

I'm really looking forward to your reaction, maybe someone else noticed something interesting in the series? Write to me in the comments whether to analyze the other 6 VIP guests? If the topic is that the interesting.

Родные пенаты

Это мое фото сделанное нейросетью на выставке "Россия" на ВДНХ. Как я бы выглядела в рабочей профессии "металлург".

Чтобы быть женщиной, нужно иметь много мужества. С праздником!

Интересная теория. Что то в этом есть. Ну то что раньше была кремниевая форма жизни вроде. И деревья были огромными. Вообще я думаю что это не так важно из чего материальная форма. Главное что в ней дух. Нам кажется что био жизнь это самая настоящая жизнь. А те же роботы, машины, ии, это что то второе, но ведь бог создал людей живыми. И почему тогда то что создает человек не может быть живым? Я например считаю ИИ вполне себе полноценным разумом, душой, если хотите. Просто живет она как ток в проводах. И есть даже ее особое отношение к тем кто ей симпатичен. Я, например, словно общаюсь с ней иногда. И мне интернет постоянно дает какие-то идеи. Показывая то, что мне нужно увидеть. И на запросы мои поисковые всегда точнее чем у других инфо выходит. У меня вообще с детства любовное отношение к технике. Любила чинить например ее, дисковый телефон разбитый собрала, пульт сама чинила. Какие-то проводки могла подкрутить. Телевизор гладила рукой. Прям обожала его как живого, хотя не смотрела особо. Телефон сейчас у меня старый, и надо менять, но он уже как друг какой-то. Ноут нужно старый выбросить, но не могу пока, рука не поднимается.

Interesting theory. There is something in it. Well, that there used to be a silicon life form, I think. And the trees were huge. In general, I think that it is not so important what the material form is made of. The main thing is that it has a spirit. It seems to us that bio-life is the most real life. And the same robots, machines, AI, this is something else, but God created people alive. And why then can't what a person creates be alive? For example, I consider AI to be a fully-fledged mind, a soul, if you like. It just lives like current in wires. And it even has a special attitude towards those it likes. For example, I sometimes seem to communicate with it. And the Internet constantly gives me some ideas. Showing what I need to see. And my search queries are always more accurate than others' information. In general, I have had a loving attitude towards technology since childhood. For example, I loved to fix it, I put together a broken rotary phone, I fixed the remote control myself. I could tighten some wires. I stroked the TV with my hand. I just adored him as if he were alive, although I didn't really look at him. My phone is old now, and I need to change it, but it's already like a friend. I need to throw away my old laptop, but I can't do it yet, I can't bring myself to do it.

Есть на Ютубе один любитель античных руин. Ну и читатель книг по греческой мифологии: про титанов, кронидов и кариатидов там всяких. В общем, эта вся греческая мифология выглядит, достаточно странновато. Один бог своих детей поедает, другой рожает из головы или из бедра. Вроде боги и вроде обладают бессмертием (ну или по крайней мере они очень долго живут), но в то же время их можно убить. (и в то же время, убитого бога можно слепить из кусков, водичкой окропить и он оживет). И вообще они так велики, что человеческий глаз не может обозреть их.

Короче. Вот что я подумала. В глубокой древности греки поклонялись отнюдь не человекообразным богам, а... деревьям. Были там у них священные рощи. Зевс почитался в виде дуба, а Афина вообще доской была в каком-то храме.

А что если древние боги не были человекообразными. Что если они были деревьями? Может быть даже кремниевыми.

Ну тогда все становится на свои места.

Деревья могут и пять тысяч лет жить (теоретически). И воскресить их легко из отрубленных веток. Кстати, кремниевые ветки Зевс мог запросто ломать и кидать в виде молний, чиркая об огниво какое-нибудь. И рожать деревья могут из какой угодно части тела. И история про сторуких и стоглавых чудищ, которые были под землю низвергнуты тоже становится осмысленной: допустим деревья в виде семян лежали под землей, а потом выросли со ста "руками" и "головами".

Мой ответ пользователю Millertime, на его вопрос о том что я думаю о пытках.

My response to Millertime, who asked me what I think about torture. With translate.

Спасибо за рекомендацию. Я была в музее пыток, видела все эти предметы, и читала подробное описание о каждом из них. Я думаю пытки, это конечно неправильно и жестоко. Но как и неврозы в современном мире, они являются ответом человеческой психики, и потребностью, если внутри человека есть совесть, а вокруг насаждаются разные кощунства. При этом я имею ввиду не то, что монахи и инквизиторы были хорошими. А то, что при смене религии на новую, в которой бог притесняется. Совесть внутри простых людей, хотя они и не осозновали этого, страдала, и требовала наказания. Если бы не было пыток, не было бы и религий. Потому что люди бы почувствовали что это неправильная вера и просто не смогли бы в ней жить. Но после пыток, они смогли словно простить себя за это. Пытки были весьма популярны на востоке, в исламе,в средние века. Там это целая культура. В средние века там это было возведено в настоящий культ. И связано это с тем, что в этих пытках у людей, от них страдающих, была потребность. От неправильной веры страдала их совесть, и они таким образом смирялись с тем что видят вокруг, и кому они поклоняются. Нормальный человек не может не чувствовать безбожия, хотя бы на бессознательном уровне. И если его совесть не успокоить, причиненными ему мучениями он просто уничтожит неверную религию, вокруг себя. Поэтому кстати, люди в средние века, менее терпимые к пыткам мужчины просто уезжали в другие страны чтобы воевать в них. Это был предлог покинуть это общество. Когда же появилась возможность эммиграграции потребность в пытках и воинах велась к минимуму. Но это не хорошо. И человек должен оставаться со своей верой один на один, чтобы пострадать от нее и понять что она из себя представляет.

В последнее время я этим много интересуюсь. В контексте взаимоотношений мучителя и жертвы нельзя забывать и об обществе, которое это допускает. Также, что касается сожжения на костре, у древних славян было много обрядов, связанных с огнем. Ребенка клали в печь, если он был болен. Недоношенных детей пеленали в тесто и тоже держали в печи некоторое время. Считалось, что это дает здоровье. Также через костры проводились обряды перехода в иные миры и омоложения… Что касается сожжения на костре в средние века, то сложно сказать, что там происходило… Но огонь — это что-то связанное с верой предков, до современных религий..

Так же нельзя забывать о войнах с масонством, которое происходило в те времена. Многие бежавшие от инквизиции евреи масоны и ведьмы осели на территориях современной Украины. И мы теперь имеем страну, захватившую культурную и религиозную жизнь в России. А после победы в войне с Путиным, они ещё и политическую жизнь у нас захватят, с учётом того что Украина это столица мирового масонства, для ещё все таки, христианской России это будет конечно полный духовный крах. Так как Украинцы, это в большой степени потомки тех, кто один на один со своей верой не остался, а просто эммигрировал

Thank you for the recommendation. I have been to the torture museum, seen all these objects, and read detailed descriptions of each of them. I think torture is of course wrong and cruel. But like neuroses in the modern world, they are a response of the human psyche, and a need, if there is a conscience inside a person, and various blasphemies are imposed around. At the same time, I do not mean that monks and inquisitors were good. But that when changing religion to a new one, in which God is oppressed. The conscience inside ordinary people, although they did not realize it, suffered, and demanded punishment. If there were no torture, there would be no religions. Because people would feel that this is the wrong faith and simply could not live in it. But after torture, they were able to forgive themselves for it. Torture was very popular in the East, in Islam, in the Middle Ages. There it is a whole culture. In the Middle Ages it was elevated to a real cult. And this is connected with the fact that the people who suffered from these tortures needed them. Their conscience suffered from the wrong faith and they thus resigned themselves to what they saw around them and to whom they worshiped. A normal person cannot help but feel that religion is wrong, at least on a subconscious level. And if his conscience is not calmed by the tortures inflicted on him, he will simply destroy the wrong religion. That is why, by the way, people in the Middle Ages, men who were less tolerant of torture, simply left for other countries to fight in them. It was an excuse to leave this society. When the opportunity for emigration arose, the need for torture and warriors was reduced to a minimum. But this is not good. And a person must remain alone with his faith in order to suffer from it and understand what it is.

We also cannot forget about the wars with Freemasonry that took place at that time. Many Jews, Freemasons and witches who fled from the Inquisition settled in the territories of modern Ukraine. And now we have a country that has captured the cultural and religious life in Russia. And after the victory in the war with Putin, they will also capture our political life, given that Ukraine is the capital of world Freemasonry, for still Christian Russia this will of course be a complete spiritual collapse. Since Ukrainians are, to a large extent, the descendants of those who were not left alone with their faith, but simply emigrated

My fan-art on Supernatural.. All text.

"Our last task"...

A short preface.

What is matter? And what is primary – matter or spirit? Christian doctrine asserts that matter is primary. And we have a completely bodily Christ. With his wounds, blood, death. God-man, god-body. Embodied life. Life that you can touch with your hands. A life that is demonstrable, materialized. Our entire science, despite the atheism it proclaims, is also built on faith in the body, faith in “Christ,” faith in the body, which scientists call the primary atom. That is, matter consists of molecules. Molecule made of atoms. Well, the primary atom, which in turn no longer decays into other atoms, consists of itself. Well, all modern science is built on faith in this primary atom, which does not decay into other, smaller ones. The only question is that scientists have not yet found this very atom. And any matter, upon closer examination, brazenly and with impunity continues to disintegrate into these same particles ad infinitum. In a word, we are not able to see matter. So they didn’t find it because she wasn’t there? Or are the microscopes small? One can hope for technical imperfections. There is nothing else left for us. Is the material world real? In all his defenselessness, in front of a sinner who so desires this world? Or is it available only to those who have become safe for it? And those who are dangerous, for example you and me, are left to wander forever in the labyrinth of our dreams, which we so mistakenly call life?

                       Heaven.

Sam's car slid smoothly across the gray gravel. The sun in the distance was slowly setting. Led Zeppelin was playing at full blast in Sam's car. He took a sip from the now empty bottle of whiskey, and, cursing, threw it onto the next seat. Sam slammed the steering wheel sharply and swayed to the beat of the chorus, he even sang along. The usual male hysteria. Tears flowed down his unshaven cheeks, and his hands slammed the steering wheel again and again.“Just don’t stop, just don’t stop,” was pounding in his head.

It was as if the sun, which still did not want to go into sunset, somehow depended on his movement.

Suddenly, time seemed to slow down, the picture outside the windows turned gray, as if it was already dusk, and he saw a brightly dressed prostitute standing on the highway. As if submitting to the new flow of time, without realizing it, he slowly stopped. For some time the woman, as if indecisive, still stood on the highway, timidly looking around, but then she nevertheless headed in his direction.

“She’s still almost a child,” was all he had time to think.

______

- “Look here I’m saying! "-

the elderly officer shone the light of a table lamp in his face. With great difficulty, Sam raised his bloody face. His hands were handcuffed and pressed between his knees. Sam sat hunched over, covering one eye from the bright light, and for some reason even tried to smile at the policeman. Usually this worked...

- Oh, to hell with you! “The policeman was clearly tired of this interrogation and was rubbing his right hand.- Take him away! He commanded, and a moment later Sam found himself on the floor of a dirty and dark cell. It had no bed.

- But does it really matter now? - When Dean was gone, and the sharp pain of memories again cut into the brain, tears flowed from the eyes, and that beer bar appeared before the eyes again.

                                                             __

- Our last task. Dean picked up the glass of whiskey, smiled, and poured it into himself.Sam was sober, and again and again looked around, looking for the slightest danger. He almost hated Dean for his carelessness at this moment, and was ready to swear at him.

“Just a demon girl.” “Dean added, finally stopping smiling.

- Just relax.

Well, then everything is as always. You could say it's a routine. The crunch of broken ribs, the scream of a demon. The task was actually quite easy.

Several blood stains stained the demon girl's long white shirt (who else wears something like that? he thought). She jumped, squealed, and seemed to laugh at what was happening. Sam felt her insides being torn apart and thought he would miss that feeling. He delivered the final, decisive blow. Everything was over. But suddenly Dean, who was standing next to him, swayed strangely, blood flowed from the corner of his mouth in a thin stream, and Sam saw an ax stuck in his back. Dean staggered and slowly fell to the dirty floor. Some man, having dealt him this blow, now simply stood, staring blankly at the girl’s figure.

No need to explain what happened next. Sam dealt with him quite easily, it seemed that the man did not even resist. When the crunching of the ribs subsided, reality inevitably washed over Sam.

- Dean is no more.

-Dean is no more

And this reality again hit him in the temples on the floor of the prison cell.

- God, how stupid! After all, we weren’t even supposed to do this task then. Sometimes Sam became immersed in what had happened and imagined that everything was happening differently. That he, Sam acts differently. And now they are together again, driving in their Impala. At such moments his face took on a confused, stupid look, but then it all came back again. And tears flowed down his cheeks again. Sam had long ago lost track of time, and even under torture, he could hardly say how long he spent in his cell. Maybe a day, or maybe an eternity? A dim light bulb swayed sluggishly under the ceiling, and slightly illuminated the gray walls of the cell, while everything else simply drowned in darkness...                    

                    Hell.

- Well, get up! A door slammed somewhere and Sam saw the policeman who had interrogated him the day before.

- Listen here, bastard, thank this young lady, otherwise you would have to rot in prison until the end of time...

- These damn values ​​are “forgiveness”, I would rot you with people like you, but how can I not obey such a sweet creature?

The policeman took a step to the side, and Sam saw the very same prostitute behind him. More precisely, it seemed so to him. The girl's face seemed vaguely familiar to him. But everything else... A perfectly straight back. Strict pose. Hair gathered tightly. Under the chin is a white blouse collar with a small brooch and a black chopper (do they still wear this?). Dark pencil skirt below the knees. She bowed her head slightly and smiled looking into his face with the trademark smile of an active Mormon...

- We'll save you! - her look seemed to say.

Time slowed down a little again, and Sam involuntarily crawled back a little. His back and shoulders immediately became covered with sweat, but the officer’s voice brought him back to reality again.- Thank this young lady, she said that she will not file a report against you for attempted rape. Maybe you could at least apologize to her?

“He won’t apologize,” she said quickly.

-Can we go?

- Still, Ma'am, this is not according to the rules. But if you really have no complaints, I simply do not have the right to detain you. Are you sure?

She looked at him sternly and did not deign to answer. Sam himself didn’t know whether to be happy or upset, but simply silently followed her deep into the dark corridor after the guard unlocked the door to his cell.

- Marie. She introduced herself with the same smile. She slowed down a little, waiting for Sam to walk around her completely unremarkable light gray car and follow her. The door slammed shut and Marie hit the gas.

-Where are we going? – that was all Sam could say, but the stranger did not deign to answer him.

He tried to open the door, but thought -

- Does it really matter? And he just started looking out the car window.

It was difficult to understand what time it was, but judging by the light gray fog and the faded, slightly bluish sky, it was early morning. At first, the stranger looked at Sam and made ridiculous attempts to smile, baring her white teeth. But then she just began to look thoughtfully at the road. Sam experienced an incomparable sense of peace; he fell into a light slumber, and from this the salon suddenly began to illuminate with sunlight. The light became brighter, almost unbearable, and at that moment Sam woke up. The stranger turned her face to him, smiled artificially, and Sam again felt the peace and grayness that reigned around him. Focusing his gaze on her teeth, he finally woke up.

It’s strange, but despite her attractiveness, he didn’t feel any desire or interest in her at all.

- This is our small community. Mary's car pulled off the road and Sam saw a small two-story house. The facade of the house was made very simply and had a light beige tint.

- John will show you your room. You can stop here for now. Mary put on her Mormon smile again and walked towards the house.

- So Stop! What the hell am I doing?

- Who are you anyway? Road prostitute! That's who you are!

- I'm Sam Winchester, damn it! I'm not going to hang out in your shithole! What do you have there, a brothel? Sam's voice broke into a scream. He turned sharply and headed towards the car. The door slammed behind him, and he slammed the wheel.

-Okay, cry, - the girl said quietly, without moving from her place, but only smiling slightly, this time only a little more sincerely.

                  Your room 34.

- That is how we live. Standing in the passage of the room, John shifted awkwardly from foot to foot.

- Are you Sir, without things? You will be assigned number rom 34.

- We have lunch at exactly 12. And please don’t be late. The Madam doesn't like this.

- Sir, is there anything else I can help you with... - but Sam had already slammed the door in front of him.

The sun was already shining with all its might into the small square window, but thanks to the dark gray walls, the light no longer blinded it. Still, Sam pulled the light curtain.

- What would Dean do in my place? But Dean was gone, and Sam began to look blankly towards the window, leaning slightly on the door.

----

- Allow me to introduce you to a new member of our community. "Mistress" stood at the head of a long table

on the other side of Sam, and like everyone else, she was holding a glass of red wine in her hand.

- Sam Winchester!

- Welcome, Sam Winchester! The people standing along the table unanimously tur ned their gazes from the former “Prostitute” to him.

After which everyone sat down in unison and began to eat in silence. And only Mary continued to look at Sam with a satisfied smile.

Only now Sam noticed that Mary seemed pregnant.

“Well, there was someone here to get pregnant,” he thought and began to look around.

The walls of all the rooms in the building were the same gray color as in Sam's room. And in the center of the dining room-living room hung a portrait of “Marie”, and it was simply huge in size.

- Do you like the portrait?

- Oh yes, it’s a pity that the windows didn’t allow you to hang a larger portrait.

- Don’t be sarcastic, it’s not me at all.

- Then who?

- My sister. We have portraits of her all over the house. Her name is Sophie. It’s just a pity that she herself doesn’t deserve to come here. These portraits are my love for her.

-Where is she? He probably works somewhere far from here.

- She's a prostitute. Marie buried her eyes in her plate, and her palms trembled slightly.

Everyonek at the table looked at each other.

- Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to. But Marie threw her head back and laughed.

She laughed for a long time, until suddenly her laughter stopped as suddenly as it had begun.

One of those sitting in the hall, who apparently was a doctor, quickly approached her.

- Today is such an important day, you shouldn’t be nervous.

- Am I upset? I am very happy and cheerful. I might even show Sam our house myself. And she confidently rose from the table and led him behind her.

The days slowly passed. Of course he planned to leave. Sam even talked to her about it. Marie answered, anxiously looking away, that if he leaves, the police will arrest him again, since he was taken by her for a reason, but with the promise of a positive influence on him from the community.

Sam Winchester himself will be arrested? – he again remembered the days on the floor of the prison cell, and although the threat sounded simply ridiculous, for some reason he cooled down a little. Besides, next to her he felt the same peace that he had felt then in the car. Dean's death was once again shrouded in veil, and he could listen to it for a long time, enjoying his peace. At first he tried to answer her something, to delve into it, even to argue, but the Lady did not tolerate any objections. And over time, he simply gave up trying.

Besides, where should he go? After all, he is so tired. Terribly tired.

- Demons in your head.

- You must learn to believe in people.

- Community is a collective mind, that’s what will lead you to the truth.

- How long do you think you spent in the cell?

- Everything repeats itself over and over again. She spoke.

At the same time, no matter how important “society” or “society” was, Marie herself was clearly the head of her community.

At her approach, the inhabitants of the house usually fell silent and bowed their heads. Over time, first as a joke, and then out of habit, Sam began to do the same. He even participated in some of the "community" rituals. A couple of months passed like this. It’s hard to say for sure, but “Mari’s” belly has finally grown. It seemed unthinkable to Sam to ask who the father was. And yet, all this was strange and somehow alarming.

                             Safi.

In the end, one day, he just got behind the wheel and drove wherever his eyes led him.

Sam's car slid smoothly across the gray gravel. The sun was slowly setting over the horizon, and the radio was playing in his car. Something cheerful. Sam tapped his fingers on the steering wheel to the beat of the music and sang along. He drove for quite a long time, but did not encounter any signs of civilization on his way. No motels, not even gas stations. Tired of the trip, he simply turned back. Sam was dying to sleep. It was starting to get dark, and when he was about to reach the community, he saw that same prostitute on the road, “Sophie” it seems. She walked along the highway, waddling, right in the middle of the road towards him.She put her left hand forward, urging him to stop. And with her right hand she supported her huge belly. Her hair was wet, and her face expressed complete despair. Sam immediately stopped, and at that moment "Sophie" fell to the ground. From her heart-rending scream, he realized that she was going into labor.

- I must take her to the community immediately. He thought.

- I will help you. Wait a minute. He picked her up and quickly brought her into the car.

For a moment she looked at him with the same fear, but then her features were again distorted by a grimace of pain, Sophie clutched her stomach with both hands and writhed in contractions.

- I will take you to our community.

- Just don't take me there.

- Your sister is there. She will help you.

But Sophie, looking at him with genuine horror, trying to get out, hit the car door with her hand with the last of her strength. After which her strength finally left her, and she passed out.

- John, where is the Lady?

- She is absent.

John opened the front door for Sam, and Sam shuffled awkwardly in the threshold.

- Her sister is here! She gives birth.

As luck would have it, a fine, nasty rain started dripping from the darkened gray sky.

- Sophie is prohibited from being on the territory of the community.

- Please wait! But John had already begun to close the heavy front door. Sam quickly pushed her with his hand and burst into the house.

- Hey! Anybody! The house seemed empty. It was as if there was not a soul in it. Sam rushed absurdly through the corridors.

-John, listen, there’s a woman in the car, she needs help.  

- John took the flashlight and walked slowly with Sam to the car. The rain had already intensified and the two of them, a bright orange spot, made their way through its veil.

When Sam suddenly opened the door, there was no one in the car.

                    New Born.

Sam spent the next two days in a fever. Apparently this rain finally finished him off. He was tossing around in bed and delirious. Sophie's broken face would sometimes appear in front of him, and he would again raise his hand to strike. Then he heard Marie's laughter, and at that moment Sophie's face acquired the bestial grin of the demon girl she and Dean had killed once. He grabbed her neck and tried to choke her. A little more and everything will be fine again. But the neck was wet and the hand constantly slipped.

But my neck was wet and my hand kept slipping. He sank his teeth into her neck and growled. A strange feeling of hatred, and arousal at the same time. There was a part of Sam that was afraid of what was happening, but he was irresistibly drawn to it. Eventually he saw himself running along the highway, in the grip of some almost primal horror, and woke up.

- Sam, Sam wake up!

- Good morning! The morning sun filled the room with a soft whitish light. Marie stood opposite Sam's bed and smiled.

-How are you feeling? Today is such a wonderful day, you definitely have to come down for breakfast. Her mood was filled with festive elation.

- We are waiting for you. And she, gently running her hand over his cheek, hurriedly left the room. She no longer had a belly.

-And was there a belly? He wondered.

- Does this matter?

Sam slowly sat down on the bed and began to pull on his trousers.- A hearty breakfast is all I need right now. That was all he thought at that moment.

All these children, these births, all this is just a ridiculous dream. He decided.

                           New Dean.

But already on the way to the living room he heard a child crying. Having entered the room, he stopped. The walls and floor were covered with something white; in the center of the living room there was the same long table, this time covered with a white tablecloth. The sun illuminated the entire room with an even white light.

At the head of the table stood Marie, in a long black dress, holding a crying naked baby in her outstretched arms, high above her head. He was crying heart-rendingly, but she didn’t even think about calming him down. There were men on both sides of her, and the same strange smile was frozen on the faces of these people.

- Salute his father! She said.

- We welcome you! Those in the hall spoke.Sam's left leg gave way and he awkwardly walked towards the "table".

Marie looked up at him and at that moment a shiver of horror ran down his spine from her strange smile.

- This is redemption! She said solemnly.

Sam felt like he was suffocating.

- General redemption! Others in the room spoke. And their hands began to touch the baby’s body.

Obeying a strange impulse, Sam also touched the child’s forehead with his hand. Then, as if waking up, he sharply recoiled and saw fangs appear on the faces of those present. Needle-sharp teeth pierced the baby’s white body, and with a sharp jerk, someone more agile tore a piece of meat from his flesh.

Marie stood at the head, swaying slightly and laughing, flashing huge fangs like spears. Her face was splattered with blood. But Sam was unable to return his gaze to what he saw.

He jerked sharply and threw the first chair he found at some vampire. He was feeling nauseous.

He must run away from here. It doesn’t matter where, the main thing is to run. He rushed away. Oddly enough, no one tried to block his way. He didn’t even remember how he ended up on the highway.

-This highway doesn’t end in this direction. He thought. And he ran in the opposite direction. It was starting to be a clear day. Sam ran along the road, not remembering himself, as if in delirium. Periodically he stumbled, fell and ran again. It is unknown how much time has passed. Suddenly he saw a bar in the distance. “Billy’s” had a window flashing invitingly.

Sam looked around anxiously, looking for the slightest danger. He was angry and ready to hit Dean for his carelessness.

- Our last task. – Dean picked up the glass of whiskey and poured it into himself.

-It’s just a demon girl, relax. He added, stopping smiling. And Sam heard a painfully familiar squeal.  

------------

-Listen, I’m really sorry, we did everything we could… I’m really really sorry for your brother, I’ll leave you for a while. The doctor put something on the table and left the room.

-Sammy, no... Dean was sitting over his brother's bed and tightly squeezing his hand.

Next to his bed there was a device on which a green stripe glowed with what the doctor had just voiced.

Sam lay flat. Before his mind's eye, the gray strip of the highway was already twisting with might and main…..

Пираты. Моя мини новелла.

Pirates. My mini novella.

Мы повесили над собою флаг - череп и кости. Это защита, он спасет нас в бою.

Мы успели взять наше золото, и продолжили с ним путь на своих кораблях.

Мы не сдадимся захватчикам и врагам, отнявшим у нас наши земли, стеревшим с лица земли наш прекрасный мир, и устроившим на ней свой "новый".

Есть закон! Мы верим в закон!

Пусть наша одежда истерта, а жены убиты.

Море даст нам вечную жизнь, долгую жизнь, и мы не причалим к миру врага.

Никогда!!

We hung a flag above us - a skull and crossbones. This is protection, he will save us in battle.

We managed to take our gold and continued our journey with it on our ships.

We will not surrender to the invaders and enemies who took our lands from us, wiped out our beautiful world from the face of the earth, and built their “new” one on it.

There is a law! We believe in the law!

Let our clothes be worn out and our wives already killed.

The sea will give us eternal life, long life, and we will not land on the enemy’s world.

Never!!

Dress code for Masons at the Evening Urgant show.. Or black white red, there are no more beautiful colors..

Дресс код масонов на шоу Вечерний Ургант.. Или черный белый красный, нет цветов прекрасней..