Chapter 22

A strange gray room. It is similar to the one I have just been in but much larger, higher.

"A-ah-ah! No-o-o-o-o!" a familiar hoarse voice yelled, and I turned to look at him.

There was a large black figure, as if woven from fog, with red eyes, a long tongue sticking out of its mouth with huge white teeth. This figure with black tentacles pulled the old man's ghostly silhouette to itself, preventing all attempts to resist.

Guesses, one after another, ran wildly in my head, but only one finally took shape. Sacrifice to a demon or soul in a book for knowledge. Sounds logical?

The unknown creature has practically drawn the old man to itself. But I'm from Gryffindor, after all! I materialized a sword in my hand with one movement and jerked towards the monster with astonishing speed. Here I moved even faster than in reality! Much faster! A brief moment, and I'm already starting to shred the creature.

"A-a-a-argh!" it growled but continued to bite off pieces from the old man. Without blood. Without anything, the old man's ghost lost a transparent piece with every bite but continued to kick and yell. On the back of the creature, where I stubbornly inflicted an innumerable number of blows, another mouth and eyes appeared. Target! That's even better!

With a couple of stabbing blows, I gouged out his eyes, and now the other mouth screamed.

Just in case, I tried to summon magic or hemomancy, but it turned out to be useless. It worked. I knew that for sure, but it didn't make sense here.

Punch! Punch again, tentacle block, cut off the beast's tentacle. Block, hit, hit. All attention was focused on hitting, hitting, and hitting again! Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed that the cut-off black parts fade away, disappear, and the creature's silhouette decreases but retains proportions.

At one point, the creature fell, and its silhouette instead of black became red and more material.

"Wait..." the creature croaked. Pfff, sure! Today I will be Ron Weasley, and I don't understand the words!

A couple more blows, and with the last of them, the silhouette emitted a painful cry and began to dissipate in space. The red mist, upon which the creature had dispersed, began to be drawn into the blade. It was as if the scream of a creature was heard high in the mountains, and the red fog even had hands that desperately clung to the void, but it was still dragged away.

Finally. What was it? There is no shortness of breath and no normal body sensation. Only now I realized that my hands are translucent, like the rest of me. It's a shame. Emotions are smooth and calm. No panic. Nice.

I don't know how much time I spent here, but it was the most boring period of my life. There are no desires or needs. Nothing to do. Boredom.

"Oh, I found you!" came the voice of the familiar Old Man. That's right, with a capital letter. "I take the offender, well done!"

"Hey, you said that I will not see you again!"

"But you don't see me! Why are there only idiots around?"

After these words, sounding like from everywhere, my sword reappeared in my hand, completely without my will. A tiny red ball burst out of it and disappeared with a squeal.

"Old man?"

Silence.

"Hey!"

Silence again. Fuck you then, old man! What should I do now?

I continued to walk around the room, examining the walls, ceiling, floor. The room is empty. Absolutely.

At one point, I decided to look a little better at these walls. Something felt wrong about them. I looked closely and was incredibly surprised. There were small words, symbols, and diagrams on every brick. They were so small that it was almost impossible to notice them even on close inspection.

I don't know how long I stared at all this, trying to figure out the symbols and language, but at some moment, a feeling of irritation ripened in my soul. Light, weightless, but in the complete absence of everything else, it was very bright. I materialized a sword and pierced a brick with it. And why didn't I think of this before?!

The brick began to dissolve and be absorbed by the sword. As soon as it disappeared, something seemed to click in my head, but I did not notice any changes in consciousness. I dug into myself for at least a subjective day, but I didn't found anything. Then I decided that I could try to absorb all the bricks. Why not? It will hardly be worse.

Time passed, I absorbed the bricks with a sword at great speed, but behind the bricks, there were other bricks, behind them more and more.

Afraid that after I dig through the wall - all this will collapse and disappear, or what is the mechanics in this dimension, I began to absorb the bricks in layers. First one, then another, and so on. As before, I did not feel any changes but continued to work. It is not always possible to feel something right away.

Once I got to the bottom of what I think is the last layer. Thin rays of soft light erupted between the bricks. Having pierced one brick in this layer, I absorbed it, and a soft yellow light poured out of the hole that formed in the wall, filling everything around with an intolerable radiance every moment. A bright flash and the world literally turned upside down.

Recovering after such a sharp flash, I could not help but notice that once again, I lay on the cold flat surface, still chained. My chest is covered with blood, and on top of all, this is dusted with a hefty portion of black and gray ash. It was impossible not to feel the difference between a living body and that spiritual shell - I literally felt the pulse with my whole body, and this was the most vivid sensation. The second brightest is the desire to go to the toilet.

After materializing the sword in my hand, I tried for several minutes to cut off my shackles with the blade without cutting off my arm or leg. After a while, I succeeded, and after a couple of minutes of neatly cutting the strange, tight-fitting chains on my arms and legs, I was free.

It turns out that I was lying on the most ordinary table. Iron table. Nearby lay the corpse of an old man. Blood was still leaking from under it, which was very strange. Feels like I stayed there for at least a month, which is quite weird, but okay. That's even better.

Unable to restrain my natural urges, I did my dastardly deed in the corner of the room and headed for the exit. There is nothing to do anyway.

The only door opened onto a narrow spiral stone staircase upward. Carefully and quietly climbing it, I stopped in front of the next door and listened - silence. Having pushed the door open, I found myself in a rather simple house, in the setting more like a hunting one.

Everything is made of wood: tables, chairs, bed. There were only three rooms here. An improvised kitchen with unknown devices. Surely something magical. Living room with fireplace, a large rug, a couple of comfortable homemade sofas, armchairs, and a table. I went out, apparently in the master's bedroom. Closer analysis revealed that this house was not used as a home. There was not a single sign of life here: no products, no tools, supplies, or anything else. There was a small layer of dust everywhere, and only a couple of paths were trodden on the floor, but it was almost imperceptible.

After checking everything for some interesting things and finding nothing, I climbed into the last unchecked place - a chest in the master's room. It turned out to be almost empty. Some kind of pile of papers, judging by the printed text - statements and invoices. Some stones, a box, a purse with nearly two hundred Galleons, and most importantly, my scabbard with a wand. And why didn't he throw them away? Resale? Maybe.

After bringing myself in relative order, I left the house and fell into some stupor. I was standing almost in the middle of the park! Turning around, I saw neither the house nor the door. I even waved my hand but only stumbled upon an empty space.

Walking around the neighborhood and this time without losing my guard, I discovered that this is not just a park - it's damn Buttes-Chaumont! This is how wizards do their dark deeds under the very noses of ordinary people! I went to the hotel on foot ... That was an exciting trip.