D A Novel (George Right) - By George Right Page 0,100

Or the suffering which they endured when dying reduces their, so to say, productivity after death–then they are an analog of a squeezed orange... But, for some reason, suicide doesn't prevent souls from falling down Its throat. Here the legends are wrong–very few people are actually capable of committing suicide in a painful enough way... Most ghosts of course, prefer to keep close to our world, though in it they are almost powerless. They are shades and nothing more, almost incapable of interacting with living beings or with any material objects. The vast majority of ghost stories stating the opposite are myths. But ghosts still have the possibility of observing, traveling, and communicating with each other. That's not too bad, especially considering the alternative... But there are also those who venture into the throat. Not because of curiosity–there is nothing curious there. They simply try to rescue souls falling there. Most often, their relatives and beloved ones, but sometimes also strangers as well. Ghosts try to push souls back to the world of the living–which is of course possible only when the body still can be reanimated–or to turn into a ghost, which is possible even less often if the death was usual. Besides, it is dangerous. If the ghost gets in too deep, it is sucked into the bowels like all other souls... It cannot spit or vomit."

"Why don't those who return after a clinical death report the same experience as you?"

"I've said already–they come back from halfway, having seen nothing. The majority–due to the efforts of doctors only. But even those who were pushed out... there is no time for explanations there. If you begin to explain the person who is being sucked into a whirlpool what awaits him at the bottom–you both will be drawn in. My case is special... I was pulled out from there, from where usually nobody is. On the one hand, I happened to be stronger than others. Strength of mind, in literal sense... not that I have especially strong will and so forth, but simply as, you know, there are people resistant to poisons or to radiation... one on a billion... it's not a personal merit, just so I happened to be born. On the other hand, those who saved me took a terrible risk themselves... having taken my oath that if I return to the living world, I will fulfill their commissions. So it lasted longer than usual, and there was enough time for conversation."

Suddenly he literally shot a glance into my eyes.

"I know what you think. That all this are simply hallucinations produced by lack of oxygen in a dying brain. Exactly how scientists explain all stories told by people after clinical death, huh? But here is proof for you. Do you know who Daniel Dorn is?"

"I know who Diana Dorn is," said I, remembering again who was in front of me. "Your first victim. But there is no Daniel in the case materials..."

"Because he perished five years earlier," Jackson interrupted. "He is her father. He was one of those who pushed me out. And he... didn't get out himself. It's like in physics–force of action is equal to the force of counteraction... pushing someone upward, you fall deeper yourself."

"Well, in principle, you could learn this name without any..."

"Yes, of course," Jackson grinned."The name. The address. The arrangement of rooms. And in particular–the security system code. In a city where I never was before, where I had no acquaintances and whereto I had to travel through half of America. Couldn't indeed the cranky blood-thirsty maniac find a closer victim? And aren't the surnames of Kraut and Poplavsky also familiar to you? After all, the police still could not answer the question how I've got into their houses so easily."

"You mean that you killed your victims...at the desire of their relatives?"

"Not all of them. Only the first three cases–yes, I paid my debt. And then I understood that I should continue. I realized that to try to explain anything was useless, I would have only gotten into a sanitarium. And also I understood how religions would react to my revelations. The idiots thinking that it is possible to make an agreement with Him... There is nobody to agree with there. And not at all because He is infinitely cleverer than we are. On the contrary, I doubt that He–It–has any intelligence in general. Perhaps It had long ago when It created the world... but even that is unlikely. And now It