The Numbers That Brought Our Fates Together 288 His True Face.

"The possibilities of human eyesight are limited. You don't even see ten percent of what I see. And you still say that it was that person? You didn't think it was just a hoax of your own consciousness that showed you a picture of what you wanted? I will not argue with you and prove anything, I answered your question. And how to relate to the information received, decide for yourself."

This conversation did not cause enthusiasm in the man, the heat in his body was growing faster than usual, something was wrong. 'd.a.m.n, did Simon activate the chip?' Marcus was not sure that the signal from the satellites could break through to such a depth, and if that was true, then there could be one reason - Rick asked him to do it.

"Goodness, what an idiot," the man sighed. He knew better than anyone else about the consequences of such an action. Rick's body, unlike Marcus's, was not suitable for such experiments, and heavy loads could easily lead to what happened to Philip Carter. Madness and death.

"Did you say something?" Elena asked, it seemed to her that the man had said some words, but she could not understand them, "Marcus!"

Marcus's eyes darkened, his body swayed to the side, and he crouched against the wall, trying to stand on his feet.

's.h.i.+t. Things are getting bad. Very, very bad.'

"Hey, what is it? Do you feel bad?" Elena ran up to the man, his behavior caused her inexplicable doubts the last few minutes, but she did not expect that his skin would be so hot.

Marcus turned his head in her direction, the phone slipped out of Elena's hands and fell to the ground. The light of the flashlight below illuminated the man's face. A woman's body shook as if she had fallen into the scene of the worst of horror films.

The pupils of his eyes were black as night, the breathing was intermittent and heavy, the skin on his face became earthy gray like that of a dead man, dark spots began to appear on its surface in different places, increasing in size every second.

He looked like a monster coming in nightmares and absorbing your soul while you sleep.

Elena raised her hand to lead the man out of the trance in which he was and immediately screamed in pain. His fingers gripped Elena's wrist with force, which seemed to her for a moment, a little more, and she would hear the crunch of her bones.

"Don't. Touch. Me," his voice was like the throat growl of a huge beast, his gaze paralyzed her body, as soon as she looked him in the eye.

"Marcus, what is going on... Ahhh!" With a flick of the wrist, Marcus turned Elena around, and her body hit against a stone wall. An unexpected blow knocked oxygen out of her lungs, the woman opened her mouth to take a breath, but the flow of air was immediately blocked.

The next second, she felt a tight grip on her throat, the man's fingers gripping her neck, leaving no opportunity to breathe.

Elena clutched at his hand with both hands to loosen his grip, but her fingers slipped on something slippery. The woman looked at the man's hand, and only at that moment, she realized what dark spots were on his face.

These were not spots, but his internal muscles, protruding to the surface in places where his skin melted. Horror gripped her body, Marcus's skin melted on its own, like a thin sheet of paper held against a candle flame, exposing muscles, and in some places even bones.

"What is it, Mrs. Anderson, are you scared? You really wanted to know me better, did you change your mind?" Marcus leaned toward Elena, his disfigured face a few inches from her, that he could feel her breath on his bare flesh, "Look carefully. This is the true face of Marcus Taubert," his voice sounded cold and lifeless, but in his eyes, Elena saw very different feelings.

She raised her hand and touched his cheek, the man flinched with surprise.

"Does it hurt?"

Does it hurt? She asked "does it hurt"? Horror, shock, fear, a cry of despair, the words like "monster, beast" - for so many years Marcus has gotten used to such a reaction, but she... She asked "does it hurt"?

Elena felt his palm slip off her neck and move to the side, giving her the opportunity to breathe. Marcus took a step forward and lowered his head to the woman's shoulder so that at that moment she would not see his face.

Over the past two or three decades, there has not been a single person who at least once asked if it hurt him. He was so afraid to show her this side of him that he had already mentally prepared that she would be disgusted, just like the others.

But she was different.

"Every day I live as if I am dying. It's like I start to burn alive only by taking a breath. This pain does not stop even for a second, and I can only temporarily extinguish it," the man's voice was a bit hoa.r.s.e and quiet, he was just standing nearby, unable to move. His nerves were calmed by her warmth, like the lullaby that his mother sang at bedtime.

"Imagine that you are constantly drowning in the water and break to the surface for only a few seconds. The first thing you do is breathe in the air. Even if you resist, the body itself will make you do it. My body is not supported by the oxygen, but by the vital energy of other people. This energy is my air.

No matter how much I try not to breathe, no matter how deeply I dive, I can not do anything about it. This energy is around me, in every living being, even in plants and animals. My body craves it, no matter what I do. Elena, I'm so tired..."

That was his air, his drug, which Marcus's body demanded, regardless of his desires. The lives of even a dozen people were not enough to satisfy this hunger. They gave only partial satisfaction with an unpleasant aftertaste, like a thick smog over a large metropolis that could not even be called air.

But it was completely different with Elena. Her energy was so pure, so captivating. In his eyes, she could compare with the clear mountain air, filling the body with strength and oxygen from a few sips, calming the mind and giving peace.

She was the only person on the whole Earth capable of giving him these sensations. She was the source and cause of his life, an oasis to which his soul strove to doom peace. She was the one in whose veins the blood of that woman was flowing.

Elena felt a tear slide down her cheek. Each power demanded a price, but in her opinion, such a price was too cruel.

She raised her hands and hugged Marcus, "Everything is all right. Take as much as you need. I let you."

"Aren't you scared of me?"

"I'm afraid of a lot of things, but you definitely are not in that list," Elena answered and heard a slight chuckle near her ear.
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"I already noticed that. It was fortunate that Anderson grabbed such a wife for himself," Marcus smiled. If David's character were even a little worse than it was in reality, he wouldn't let this boy in Elena's life. The man's hand slipped over the woman's chest and stopped in the solar plexus, "Thank you and I'm sorry."

Elena felt as if her heart was about to be torn out of her chest, she dug her nails on the man's back, the ceiling of the cave swirled in her eyes and the next second everything darkened.

Heat enveloped her body, a slight equable swaying filled her with peace and a sense of protection. Elena opened her eyes and found herself in the hands of Marcus. The man was slowly carrying her along the corridor, holding her in his hands.

"What happened?"

"You went out for a few minutes. Sorry, this is my fault, I too quickly absorbed a large amount of energy, but do not worry. With your body characteristics, you will recover quickly. In the extreme case, you have a personal battery in the form of your husband and son," the man grinned.

All traces of that terrible appearance disappeared from his face, Marcus looked fresh and rested, as if he had just returned from vacation.

"Can you put me down? I'll go myself," Elena asked, the man stopped and carefully put her on the ground.

"No problem. Especially since we have already come," Marcus nodded his head and the woman turned around.

Elena saw a s.p.a.cious rounded room, its floor was flooded with water, the bottom was covered with luminous stones as if the water itself shone from the inside.

A narrow stone path led to a ledge in the center of the hall. On this ledge, there was a huge stone resembling a table, and in the center of this table a knife was stuck, the hilt of which looked like it was gold plated.

This was the place where, for hundreds of years, the ceremonial kukri knife was kept, waiting for its rightful owner.