Fear Read online

FEAR

  Copyright 2014 George Kavsekhornak

  "I am afraid to show you who I really am,

  because if I show you who I really am,

  you might not like it –and that's all I got."

  Sabrina Ward Harrison

  "Good day, you're up to the final as well?" asked me a passenger sitting near with a smile.

  I didn't immediately realize what he meant because we were on board of the plane, but not in the compartment of long-distance train. "He jokes, probably," I thought. Then, I remembered that day there were not direct flights from Moscow to Taipei and our root was only one, but with the transfer in Seoul.

  "Yes, most likely," I was confused.

  All passengers sat in their seats. Stewards helped lay the suitcases and bags.

  "The most interesting thing is that we know nothing about this particular flight. Perhaps, except the time of takeoff and landing, although they may be changed at any time. Do not you find it strange?" continued neighbor.

  I don't suffer from social phobia, even in a mild form, so I'm not afraid to talk to strangers. Therefore, I decided to continue the conversation.

  "Probably not."

  "At least we know that our aircraft Airbus A330-300 with a range of flight is more than ten thousand kilometers and a maximum cruising speed is eight hundred and seventy miles per hour." He read from the board magazine, and continued:

  "Are you afraid of flying? Oh, we have a long flight, so let me introduce myself, my name is Stanislav." he smiled and held out his hand to me.

  "Victor." I answered, formally shook hands.

  I never was afraid of flying. But when this kind of conversation starts before takeoff, involuntarily an anxiety is appeared.

  "I have no fear of flight by airplanes," I said, continuing the dialogue.

  "Well, nevertheless, we even do not know the basic characteristics of our flight," Stanislav continued. "For example, the age of the aircraft, the qualification of pilots and commander, how many flew hours they have and whether there was success or failures in their preparation. If I tell you this information, and it will be … so to speak, not in favor of passengers, what will you do?"

  "Do you want to scare me so that I leave the plane?" I said, showing that I was joking.

  "No, sorry! It's not my purpose. I just want to say that sometimes it's right that we keep in the dark about some important facts. Otherwise, everyone would run away in panic," he smiled broadly and looked out the window through me. "It seems we taxi on a runway."

  We were sitting in silence until the airplane accelerated and gained altitude. Stanislav stood up, took off his brown jacket, hung it over the back and adjusted his dark blue tie.

  "Do not worry, to Seoul it's slightly less than seven thousand kilometers so we will hold on." He winked at me, smiled and closed his eyes.

  I somehow felt ill at ease. I would not tell that I felt strong concern, but fears definitely were, especially when the commander announced about entrance to a turbulence zone. The rest part of flight we almost didn't communicate with Stanislav. He read a book. I was sitting with headphones and watched movies on the built-in screen in the front seat.

  I met him again two days later.

  In Taipei, I flew to the exhibition of high technologies. By the nature of my work I need to be aware of the latest technological innovations. In the evening I went for a walk around the city and of course could not visit the most famous building in Taiwan "Taipei 101". It's the highest in the world until 2010, when the relay was intercepted by the Business center in Dubai. With the speed at which the cars must travel in the city, but using the elevator, I reached the 89th floor in half-minute and came to the closed observation deck. I approached viewing glass and looked down, was surprised to the opened view. In glass reflection, by peripheral vision, I saw the familiar brown jacket and blue tie. Stanislav came up to me.

  "Good evening, Victor, what a meeting!" He greeted me. Smiled and held out his hand.

  "Hello. Our meeting is not so strange, given that all the tourists will certainly go exactly here." I said, shook his hand.

  "You know that Taipei, and all island Formosa on which there is Taiwan, is very seismically active area. And, we are here, at a height of almost half of a kilometer. But nothing to fear, this majestic building has survived not one earthquake. And, all thanks to the engineers. Create the pendulum weighing six hundred and sixty tons, and the original design of all construction! It's worth a lot." Stanislav smiled.

  "Yes, I read the history of construction," I replied. "I didn't want to say that I'm an engineer too."

  "Here people feel in safety. I believe because of the thickness of these windows. But do you understand that it's relative safety?" Without having waited for my answer, he gently knocked on the sight glass. "I would suggest you to go up to the open observation deck; it would have given us a full impression of the height, a sense of freedom and a fear. But, alas, it's closed due to adverse weather conditions," he paused. "I think our second meeting already obliged to introduce formally." He said and handed me a business card.

  I said my full name. I flapped on pockets, having shown that I had not my business cards, and began to study the received business card. In the right top corner the flower was drawn. Stanislav Rodionovich Akhmatov, General Manager, company "FiaLKA" (TN: violet), address and phone number. Strange name of company with capital letters, probably in the register of firms all usual "Fialka" names were occupied. On a reverse side of a card there was a strange slogan "We Do What Others Are Afraid of …" it's guarded me a little. Further, in a smaller font was "All for bouquets and celebrations." My anxiety has receded, but uncertainty remained. Stanislav smiled.

  "You do florist?" I asked.

  "Yes, in vast scale if it's possible to say that. Here I'm looking for suppliers of exotic plants and flowers."

  "You have a wonderful profession." I did compliment.

  "Do you think so?" He said without being confused at all.

  We talked about buildings and flowers. Then Stanislav apologized and said that he had to go. He invited me to visit his company, said goodbye with an invariable smile.

  Not to say that I liked Stanislav. There was attraction, but also a kind of oddity, which gave some concerns. Then I decided that I would not meet with him, but fate decreed otherwise.

  In their spare time, on weekends I visit this section of freestyle wrestling. Not for awards and victories but to maintain my own sportswear. I warmed up when saw Stanislav. He smiled as always and came up to me.

  "Oh, hello, Victor."

  "Good day, Stanislav Rodionovich."

  "Why did not you come to my company?" He asked. "I'd show you a magnificent greenhouse."

  "Had no time for it." I answered without special persuasiveness.

  "Let's have a fight. But first I want to ask. Are you afraid of injury?"

  I never received serious injuries on trainings. The fright settled in me again. But I decided not to recede before the fear and accepted Stanislav's proposal. It needed one and a half minutes to lay me on shovels.

  The trainer approached me:

  "What are you doing here, Victor?"

  "I'm training with Stanislav."

  "Who's and where is Stanislav?"

  I looked around the sport hall. Stanislav was nowhere to be found. That is when I felt real horror. Really is Stanislav Rodionovich Akhmatov only my imagination? I looked at his business card.

  I was determined to figure it out and went to the FiaLKA company. I found the address specified in the business card. The building was small but modern with mirror windows. I entered inside. The girl sat in the lobby behind the counter. She smiled. The panic grew on me, she was wearing a brown jacket and a dark blue scarf tied in the manner of a tie.

  "How can I
help you?" She asked.

  "I need to meet with Stanislav Rodionovich." I replied.

  "Wait a minute."

  She called by phone, said something, and soon I saw a radiant smile of Stanislav.

  I welcome you, Victor. It's good that you finally came. He hugged me and tapped his hand on my back.

  "Good day, Stanislav Rodionovich." I replied taken aback by his familiarity.

  "Come with me, I'll show you my pride, the greenhouse."

  We went up to the fifth floor and went into the greenhouse. There was such a variety of flowers that I involuntarily opened eyes and uttered: "Wow". All the flowers were in an easy movement, probably due to ventilation. Petals rustled as something wanted to tell me. It was a frightening beauty. I held out my hand to touch one of the flowers.

  "Don`t!" Stanislav warned me, still smiling.

  "What do you want from me?"

  "Your soul, Victor. Without it, my greenhouse will be incomplete."

  "What?" I was taken aback.

  I started moving back, the horror held down my.

  "Who are you?" I asked, hardly putting words.

  "Is it really unclear? Better go with me I will show something else."

  Stiff-legged I followed him into the office. Normal office, but the presence of Stanislav with his trademark smile gives me a sense of panic. And I could not overcome it.

  "Come to the window, please."

  I went to the window and looked out. I went hazy consciousness. All people outside were followed by the beings similar to people … in brown suits and in dark blue ties. Someone was walking beside them. Someone sat and clasped by hand the head of the humans. Someone clung to his feet and dragged. The girl went for the handle with the boy. The boy was in a brown suit and a short dark blue tie.

  I was subdued by my fear.

  The man in a white dressing gown stopped reading closed a thin paper notebook. He carefully put it in an old-fashioned folder with some documents. He tied the folder with white laces. "Case No. 14-3715. Victor. The curator is Stanislav Rodionovich Akhmatov".

  The man crammed folder in a cabinet between the same folders. He left the room. The rectangular badge hung on a white dressing gown:

  Fear

  Lecheniye (TN: treatment)

  Konsultatsii (TN: consultations)

  Anonimnost` (TN: anonymity) *

  In the right top corner the flower was drawn.

  The man was walking down the hall. Cries and moans were heard from closed chambers. The man smiled. The brown jacket and the dark blue tie stood out through the white dressing gown in artificial light.

  * TN: wordplay - the sound of the English word "fear" and first letters of the next words transform into the Russian word "fialka" (Eng. violet).

  The End.

  About the Author

  George Kavsekhornak was born in Leningrad. Now he lives in Saint-Petersburg (Russia). He writes stories in the style of "urban fantasy" when a number of amazing and necessarily things want to be shared. He writes, on the one hand in the style of openly expressing respect for images created by the classics of Russian literature and the legacy of the plot metamorphosis foreign fiction, on the other hand.

  Connect with George Kavsekhornak

  I really appreciate you reading my book! Here are my social media coordinates:

  Visit my website:https://vk.com/kavsekhornak

  E-mail:[email protected]