"David Prill - Rocket Fall" - читать интересную книгу автора (Prill David)

The pain began without warning, continued without pause. It was a different kind of pain than her daily
agonies: deeper, more all-encompassing, more permanent. Before, the pain had seemed to alternate
between the physical and the spiritual, testing her limits it seemed. Now they knew her vulnerable areas,
and they exploited them without mercy. Pain beyond screaming. Pain beyond life itself. Pain that ripped
her soul from her husk of a body and hurtled it with the Painship up the gantry and into the night sky. The
air itself seemed to explode.

And then all was still again, the Ethyls exhaling.

They drifted apart for a while, then came together as they neared the swamp on the edge of the launch
area. Here their momentum ebbed, and they hovered in the spirit space above the brackish water, and it
is here that they rested and waited and planned.




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GHOSTS ON THE LOOSE

"Welcome to Thirdeyewitness News. I am Hans Krogh, and now you will listen to the top stories.

"It has been three nights sinceJunior High Locker Room Shower Humiliation was in contact with Pain
Management. Brother Painships all reporting in as scheduled from Other Realms. Fuel running low, they
are coming home, but notHumiliation. Something wrong? Etherphone not working? They find
something? What is going on? Don't know, don't know.

"In other news, ghosts reported on castle grounds, down by swamp. Rumors! Only children believe in
ghosts. Believe in finding the beloved Madeline, that is enough for all of us.

"Now commercial.

"Headache? Aches, pains? Take the pills that come under your door every night. Pills good for you, will
not sap your will. Now back to news тАж"




┬╖┬╖┬╖┬╖┬╖



After witnessing the strange wonder that was the world where the Machine was in the Ghost, theJunior
High Locker Room Shower Humiliation cruised into farther-out realms.

Bob the Torturnaut stalked the fuel coffin corridor, searching for his next victim, his psychic isolation
garment wrapped around him like a dark cloak. He sang the Pain Song, the traditional torturnaut spiritual,