After recovering a little from the shock, she decided to bypass the unexpected obstacle, for which climbed on the trill, through it jumped on the bed, and on it reached the exit of the room. Under the influence of stress and intoxication Valerie did not notice that accidentally pushed a mug of whiskey. A trickle of flammable liquid reached the sparking lamp, then immediately flared up. After a couple of seconds, the fire spread to the bedcover, and then began to spread quickly around the room.

The owner of the apartment at that time was heading to the electric switchboard. When she reached it, she pulled the main switch, switching off all lights in the house. After few seconds she realize that she was now in total darkness, and only the dim light from the windows somehow dissipates the darkness. Once again, internally swearing, Valerie opened the closet door, went into it and began to rummage through things, trying to find a lantern. While the search was going on, the pantry door slammed shut, blocking access to the smell of smoke from the growing fire.

About five minutes later, Valerie finally found the large camping lantern she had last used several years ago. Turning it on, she grinned with delight, then opened the pantry door. The heat of the heated air and the clouds of smoke hit her face. Terrified, she rushed into the bedroom, but when she reached it, she could see the room on fire. It was too late to extinguish the flames on her own, so she decided to run out of the house and call firefighters.

Coughing from the acrid smoke, she headed to the exit. And it was at this moment that the batteries in the lantern finally ran out, leaving her in the suffocating darkness. Panic-stricken, Valerie ran forward, blind to the road and groping for direction. That's just because of the panic and intoxication, she could not navigate and took the closet in the hallway as the door. She yanked it aside, knocking over a piece of furniture, blocking the real exit. Already suffocating from the smoke, the woman was able to get to the door and open three locks, but she had no strength to open the door. After all, this required pushing aside the furniture on which she was sitting right now. Opening a little the door, Valerie breathed fresh air and began to call for help.

Meanwhile, Alex Browning was approaching her house, tormented by bad feelings and guilt for pushing the teacher. When he saw the fire in the windows of the desired house, he immediately rushed forward. And when he heard the call for help, he began to kick the door down, moving the furniture a few centimeters with each blow. Valerie Lewton was in a state of panic, and the nearly half-liter of whiskey she had drunk had completely confused her thoughts. When she saw the face of Alex, whom she had already inwardly blamed for all the recent deaths, she was even more afraid, imagining that he had set fire to the house, and now trying to break down the door to get to her. So, when the door opened enough for her to get out of the burning house, she threw back her 'savior' and ran away.

Valerie only stopped when she ran to the road next to her cottage. Smoke was already billowing in all directions, reducing visibility. Coughing, the woman bent over. When she got her breath back, she straightened up and turned to look at the burning building. At this moment, she was hit by a truck, the driver of which simply did not notice the person behind the clouds of smoke. The woman was literally smeared on the asphalt, instantly turning into a pile of minced meat.

I examined the result and completely satisfied with it. The whole sequence of events claimed to be a masterpiece of Probability magic. Initially, I was just going to kill the 'client' with an electric shock from a broken lamp. But just those 'side effects of exposure' led to the fact that the woman always managed to stay alive. Then I used an event that had already been prepared to start a fire. The fallen furniture should have been an insurmountable obstacle on the way to salvation. But then it turned out that Alex intervened in the situation, managed to open the door. I had to slightly correct the thoughts in the head of a drunk teacher, and then intervene in the work of the navigator of the cargo truck. As a result, I managed to send the victim to another world, without overstepping the boundaries of what is allowed.

After looking at the panicked truck driver and prostrated Alex, I left the situation to develop according to the natural flow of events, and concentrated on the future, in which the next 'fateful' event was already maturing.

The next day, Wednesday, four schoolchildren gathered again at the hospital to discuss the death of their teacher. At first, Carter didn't even believe to what have happened, but three people he knew told him that Valerie Lewton was dead. And this put on the agenda an important question: who is next?

This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

Seeing a pattern in my actions, Alex assumed that Carter would be next. Carter was not pleased with this prospect, so he began to insist that he had almost died in the sewer, so Death should come for someone else. In general, I was entertained by these gatherings, and at the same time this meeting was another link in my brilliant plan, which was drawn up before Carter got to this hospital.

Without coming to any decision, three visitors went home. The only recommendation that Alex was able to give was the requirement to be careful and not allow strange and dangerous situations to occur near him. This again did not add to Carter's calmness, because he was in the hospital with a broken leg and basically could not change anything at a distance beyond the outstretched arm

When night descended on the city, bad weather came with it. A strong, gusty wind tossed debris through the streets, howled between buildings, and hummed in the wires. Heavy clouds covered the sky, turning the dark night into a very dark one. In such weather, it is good to sit at home near a burning fireplace and tell stories about heroic deeds during their youth.

Unfortunately, Carter was not in danger of such a pastime. Now he was lying on a stiff back, wrapped in a thin blanket and trying to keep warm. A cold north wind came through the wide cracks in the cracked window and blew the last drops of warmth from his body. And even a spare blanket did not save from the cold. To be honest, Carter's rags could only be called a blanket somewhere near the equator. But here tonight they were resembled bedspreads at best.

Carter was half asleep, wrapped in the rags, when he was awakened by a loud thump and a strong gust of icy wind. The window could not withstand the onslaught of the elements and completely opened, letting in the noise of the wind and the smell of approaching rain. But before Carter could get too scared, there was another pop from the other side. The front door to the room was also flung open by a gust of wind heading the other way, slamming loudly against the wall. The lights in the room and in the corridor were turned off, so that only the street lamps, whose light came through the window, illuminated the room. All this made him even more nervous. If he had faced the enemy face to face, he would have found the strength to resist it. But now he was surrounded by an incomprehensible horror, and he lay helplessly on the bed, unable even to close the window because of a broken leg.

For the next few minutes, the window and door continued slamming, making a loud noise. As the door swung open again, Carter saw the silhouette of a woman in white clothes with disheveled hair She stood silently at the entrance to the room, and her face was covered with dark strands of hair.

Such scene would do honor to any horror movie, and thanks to the '100% effect of presence', the appearance of a silent figure scared the guy to such degree that he literally yelled at the top of his voice ignoring his burnt throat.

"Why are you yelling?" - The woman asked in an unexpectedly grumpy voice. She reached out and flipped on the light switch. As if by magic, all the 'mystique' immediately dissipated, leaving only a hospital room in a third-rate clinic.

"Who are you?" - Carter asked, cursing himself for his cowardice. He hadn't screamed in fear of night monsters since he was three years old.

"I work here," - The woman answered as she headed to the window.

The wind slammed the window again, accurately identifying the source of the noise. Nurse went to the window and slammed it shut. Not finding the latch, she critically chuckled, looked at the result of her 'work' and went to the exit. Only when she took a couple of steps, the next gust of wind opened the window again. Frowning irritably, the woman returned and closed the window again, this time 'applying' to it all her strength. It didn't help much, because a couple of seconds later it opened again under a gust of cold wind. Shivering, the nurse examined the broken latch that was supposed to keep the window closed and silently headed to the exit.

"Where are you going?" - Carter called after her. But he didn't get an answer.

However, a couple of minutes later the woman in a white robe returned with a scalpel in her hand. The appearance of the weapon scared the guy even more, so he did not risk to start another conversation with this crazy woman. The woman went to the window, closed it, and then used a scalpel as a latch, jamming the window. After twitching the frame, she became convinced of the reliability of this decision, and then left the room, turning off the light and slamming the door

Once again in the dark, Carter calmed down a bit, wrapped himself in blankets and tried to fall asleep. The wind was still whistling through the cracks, but at least the windows weren't banging so hard now, as if someone was doing demolition works. Gradually the gusts of wind began to abate, and the night was filled with calmness.

Carter was almost asleep when he was awakened by a flash of lightning and a deafening clap of thunder. There was a real storm on the street. The wind began to beat against the window again. The guy looked in that direction and noticed that the scalpel was almost out of the recess and tilted. Another flash of lightning dangerously sparkled, reflecting from the blade. And the next gust of wind yanked the frame so hard that the scalpel almost flew out. Just imagining how this sharp piece of iron flies right down his throat, Carter covered with cold sweat. He couldn't escape, so all he could do was call for help. He shouted 'help me' several times, but it didn't bring any results. The hospital was quiet as if everyone was dead