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a third stage came - of fear. No,
I began to be afraid of the dark. In short, the stage of mental illness came.
Simile ewww creepy
I was awakened by the feeling that the octopus was there.
the autumn darkness
as in ink.
Simile
the novel, though stubbornly resisting, was nevertheless perishing.
I came to hate this novel, and I’m afraid. I’m ill. Frightened.”
Why is it, why? But I’ll save you, I’ll save you.
Things won’t go well for me, and I don’t want you to perish with me.”
‘“I’m perishing with you. In the morning I’ll be here.”
‘Those were her last words in my life
Someone had been brought, and he kept asking to be given back his head.
Haha the MC
the same coat but with the buttons torn off,
the lane. A blizzard was frolicking in it.
the fear that had become my constant companion,
fear possessed every cell of my body.
‘I am incurable,’
this is the fourth month that I’ve been here.
One mustn’t make grandiose plans, dear neighbour, really!
The keys have broadened my possibilities.
Haha
Glory to the Cock!
Rimsky
a lady in nothing but a shift and violet bloomers.
Haha
a second lady, in pink underwear.
the poor victim of her own flightiness and passion for dressing up,
He had to drink the bitter cup of responsibility.
Styopa,
A soft but at the same time insinuating and lewd female voice whispered into the receiver:
a whiff of some putrid dankness was coming in under the office door.
Ewww creepy
Varenukha
Yalta?’
Stepan Bogdanovich
In short, black horror!
The more lifelike and colourful the vile details with which the administrator furnished his story, the less the findirector believed the storyteller.
fear crept over his body, starting from the legs,
the findirector fancied that a putrid malarial dankness was wafting across the floor.
Ewww creepy
what did it all mean?
the awareness of danger, an unknown but menacing danger, began to gnaw at Rimsky’s soul.
Ivan Savelyevich Varenukha had become unrecognizable.
Behind the chair on the floor two shadows lay criss-cross, one more dense and black, the other faint and grey.
He’s a vampire!
Hella? Question
her naked arm reaching through the vent-pane and trying to open the lower latch.
Then Rimsky unlatched his briefcase, took out fifty roubles, and handed them to the driver through the open front window.
Nikanor Ivanovich’s Dream
Nikanor Ivanovich Bosoy.
the chairman of the tenants' association
I should have determined at once that he was an unclean power!
‘Koroviev!’
And Koroviev - he’s the devil!’
Haha. Close.
