Метафора как способ воплощения речевого концепта "страх" на материале произведений Стивена Кинга

– Они летают, – проворковала тварь в водостоке сдавленным, посмеивающимся голосом. Она крепкой, обжимающей хваткой держала руку Джорджа и тащила его к ужасной темноте, куда с шумом и ревом низвергалась вода, унося к океану смытый в нее дождем мусор. Джордж изогнул шею, чтобы не смотреть в эту запредельную черноту, и закричал в дождь, бессвязно кричал в белое осеннее небо, широкой дугой изогнувшееся над Дерри во второй половине того дня, осенью 1957 года. Его пронзительные, душераздирающие крики услышала вся Уитчем-стрит: в домах, что ниже водостока, что выше, люди бросались к окнам или выбегали на крыльцо" [21, c. 21]."They're flying," It growled, "they're flying, Georgie, and when you're down with me, you'll be flying too, le…George's shoulder was pressed against the concrete of the curb, and Dave Gardener, who stayed at home, did not go to the Shoe Ship where he worked because of the flood, saw only a boy in a yellow raincoat, a little boy screaming and twitching in the murky water that overflowed his face, causing the screams to partially choke, bubbling."Everything below is flying," whispered a laughing, vile voice, and then suddenly the boy heard something tearing, a wave of blinding pain rolled over, and that was it for George Denbrough.""– Они летают, – рычало Оно, – летают, Джорджи, и когда ты окажешься внизу со мной, ты тоже будешь летать, ле…Плечо Джорджа прижало к бетону бордюрного камня, и Дэйв Гарденер, который оставался дома, из-за наводнения не пошел в «Корабль обуви», где работал, увидел только мальчика в желтом дождевике, маленького мальчика, кричащего и дергающегося в мутной воде, которая перехлестывала его лицо, отчего крики частично захлебывались, пузырясь.– Все внизу летает, – шептал посмеивающийся, мерзкий голос, а потом внезапно мальчик услышал, как что-то рвется, накатила волна слепящей боли, и на том для Джорджа Денбро все закончилось"[21, c. 22].Данная страшная сцена с речевыми концептами «страх» впервые показывает злодеяния монстра, живущего в стоках Дерри. Гибель Джорджи предваряет дальнейшие жуткие события в романе, становится главным мотиватором для Билла отомстить Пеннивайзу, убив его раз и навсегда, избавив, тем самым, родной город и его жителей от большого пугающего зла."After coming down from the porch, the clown began to dance wildly, with a bunch of balloons in one hand and a torn, bleeding leg of a child in the other. The clown costume fluttered as if in a strong wind, but Beverly did not feel any wind. Her legs tangled, and she fell to the sidewalk, barely managing to put out her hands to soften the blow. The pain from his palms shot up to his shoulders. The woman, who was pushing a shopping cart in front of her, stopped, looked back hesitantly, and then moved on, slightly accelerating her pace.The clown walked towards her, throwing away the severed leg. She fell onto the lawn with a thud. Beverly lay sprawled on the sidewalk for a moment, fully convinced that she would wake up very soon, that this could not be in real life, that this was a nightmare…She realized that she was mistaken a moment before the clown's bent, long-fingernailed fingers touched her. The clown was real; he could have killed her. How he killed other children."The starlings know your real name,– Beverly suddenly shouted.The clown recoiled, and it suddenly seemed to her that the smile on his lips inside the painted big red smile turned into a grimace of hatred and pain ... or maybe fear. But perhaps the change should have been attributed to her imagination, and Beverly definitely had no idea why she said such a thing, but the phrase allowed her to gain a few seconds.She jumped up and ran. Brakes screeched and a gruff voice, both furious and scared, yelled: Out of the corner of her eye, Beverly saw a bread van that almost knocked her over when she darted across the street like a child after a rubber ball, and then stood on the sidewalk on the opposite side, panting""Спустившись с крыльца, клоун бешено задергался в танце, со связкой шариков в одной руке и оторванной, кровоточащей ногой ребенка в другой. Клоунский костюм трепало, как при сильном ветре, но Беверли никакого ветра не чувствовала. Ноги ее заплелись, и она грохнулась на тротуар, едва успев выставить руки, чтобы смягчить удар. Боль от ладоней прострелила до плеч. Женщина, которая толкала перед собой тележку с купленными продуктами, остановилась, нерешительно оглянулась, а потом двинулась дальше, чуть ускорив шаг.Клоун направился к ней, отбросив оторванную ногу. Она упала на лужайку с глухим стуком. Беверли еще с мгновение лежала, распростершись на тротуаре, в полной уверенности, что очень скоро она должна проснуться, что в реальной жизни такого быть не может, что это кошмарный…Она осознала, что заблуждается, за миг до того, как согнутые, с длинными ногтями пальцы клоуна прикоснулись к ней. Клоун был настоящим; он мог ее убить. Как убивал других детей.– Скворцы знают твое настоящее имя, – внезапно прокричала Беверли.Клоун отпрянул, и ей вдруг показалось, что улыбка на губах внутри нарисованной большой красной улыбки превратилась в гримасу ненависти и боли… а может, и страха. Но, возможно, изменение это следовало списать на ее воображение, и Беверли определенно не имела ни малейшего понятия, с чего сказала такое, но фраза эта позволила ей выиграть несколько секунд.Она вскочила и побежала. Завизжали тормоза и грубый голос, одновременно взбешенный и испуганный, проорал: «Смотри, куда прешь, курица безмозглая!» Боковым зрением Беверли увидела хлебный фургон, который едва не сшиб ее, когда она метнулась через улицу, будто ребенок – за резиновым мячом, а потом уже стояла на тротуаре с противоположной стороны, тяжело дыша" [21, c. 633]. В этом отрывке отчетливо видно, что автор часто использует в романе речевой концепт «страха», реализуя его через монстра и те кошмары и ужасы, которые он демонстрирует главным героям в их детстве и уже во взрослом состоянииТаким образом, в ходе нашего исследования, опираясь на три выбранных нами романов (»Сияние», «Кладбище домашних животных», «Оно») был изучен речевой концепт «страха» с разных позиций: через художественные образы, через три главных речевых концепта «страха» – отеля «Оверлук», Вендиго и Пеннивайза, через страшные сцены в произведениях. Выбранные книги насыщены метафорой «страха», жутких и пугающих сцен довольно много, в особенности в романе «Оно», так как он является одним из самых больших, объемных, произведений Стивена Кинга.В «Сиянии» больший акцент страха «делается» на Джеке Торрансе и его сыне Дэнни. В «Кладбище домашних животных» – на главном герое Луисе Криде и его отчаянных попытках спасти собственную семью от распада, спасти своих любимых и близких людей. В «Оно» – на главных героях, «Клубе неудачников», в составе которых – Ричи Тозиер, Билл Денбро, Беверли Марш, Майк Хенлон, Эдди Капсбрак, Бен Ханском и Стэн Урис. Семеро одиннадцатилетних ребят сталкиваются каждый по отдельности (и все вместе) с ужасающим монстром, который способен принимать любые формы.Главный речевой концепт «страха» в «Сиянии» – старый и жуткий отель «Оверлук», в «Кладбище домашних животных» – злой дух Вендиго, в «Оно» – очень древний монстр, который любит принимать форму рыжего Танцующего Клоуна Пеннивайза с шариками.В выбранных нами страшных сценах отчетливо показано, как автор виртуозно и мастерки обращается с метафорами «страха», чтобы передать жуткую атмосферу ужас и паники. Эти метафоры обретают в творчестве Кинга символическое значение. В каждом из трех выбранных нами романах Стивен Кинг изобилует речевым концептом «страха», пугая и своих персонажей, и читателей.ЗаключениеИсследования речевого концепта «страха» в творчестве Стивена Кинга является актуальной на данный момент, так как автор уже давно стал «мастером ужасов», всемирно известным писателем триллеров и ужасов.В ходе исследования мы изучили понятие понятие речевого концепта и теоретические аспекты семантики метафоры. Исследование семантики является важным процессом, потому что метафоры выполняют важнейшую роль в художественных произведения, обогащая его смысловую глубину и выразительность. Были изучены четыре функции метафоры в выражении речевого концепта «страх», которые помогают лучше понять, передать и разделить эмоции и чувства с героями текстов.Концептуализация страха посредством метафор в произведениях Стивена Кинга отражает разные аспекты и ассоциации, связанные с этим чувством: ужас, темнота, угроза, мрак, опасность, уязвимость. Эмоциональная атрибуция метафор «страха» подчеркивают важность метафорического выражения этой эмоции и его влияние на читателей книг автора. Использование речевых концептов «страха» помогает Кингу создавать произведения, которые способны даже при повторном прочтении или прослушивании вызвать сильные эмоциональные реакции, оставив глубокий след в душе. Также метафоры, связанные с понятием «страха», имеют большое значение в создании атмосферы паники и ужаса. Стивен Кинг использует метафоры, чтобы создать яркие и запоминающиеся художественные образы, передающие сильный испуг и страх. В проведенном нами исследовании мы опирались на три выбранных знаменитых романа «мастера ужасов»: «Сияние», «Кладбище домашних животных», «Оно». Мы изучили речевой концепт «страха» с разных позиций: через художественные образы, через три главных речевых концепта «страха» – отеля «Оверлук», Вендиго и Пеннивайза, через страшные сцены в произведениях. Выбранные художественные тексты насыщены метафорой «страха», жутких и пугающих сцен довольно много, в особенности в большом романе «Оно».Гипотеза исследования подтвердилась. Метафорическое воплощение речевого концепта "страх" в произведениях Стивена Кинга действительно способствует созданию атмосферы агонии, сильного напряжения и ужаса, что выражается в характерных художественных образах, особом авторском стиле и сюжетных линиях историй, а также играет ключевую роль в формировании эмоционального и психологического воздействия на читателей творчества автора.Перспективность использования нашего подхода к изучению выбранной темы является важной для анализа метафор в произведениях Кинга, страшных сцен в его художественных текстах. Научная новизна нашего исследования заключается в том, что мы представляем свой взгляд на исследование метафоры в качестве речевого концепта «страх» в выбранных трех романах автора. 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Толкование эмоции «страх» в отечественной лексикографии // В мире науки и искусства: вопросы филологии, искусствоведения и культурологии. - 2014. -№41. - С. 86-96. Рабкина Н. В. «Рекламные имена» в творчестве Стивена Кинга: способы перевода // Перевод и сопоставительная лингвистика. Екатеринбург: Уральский гуманитарный институт, 2015. № 11. С. 74-77. Рабкина Н. В . Художественный универсум Стивена Кинга: имена собственные как средство создания достоверной реальности // Вестник Кемеровского государственного университета. 2015. № 4 (64). Т. 4. С. 204-208.Самарин Д. А. Стиль и специфика перевода произведений Стивена Кинга // Филологические науки. Вопросы теории и практики. 2022. №8. URL: https://cyberleninka.ru/article/n/stil-i-spetsifika-perevoda-proizvedeniy-stivena-kinga (дата обращения: 25.02.2024).Селиванова Д. И. Мифология как основа произведений в жанре ужасов // Вопросы науки и образования. 2020. №1 (85). 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URL: https://cyberleninka.ru/article/n/figure-of-the-child-in-stephen-king-s-prose (дата обращения: 25.02.2024).Cameron L., Deignan A. The emergence of metaphor in discourse // Applied Linguistics. 2006. № 27/4. P. 671 — 690.Charteris-Black J. Corpus approaches to Critical Discourse Analysis. N. Y., 2004.Gruesser J. Lexical representation of concept fear in american thriller novels by Stephen King // Sworldjournal. 2015. № 2. С. 14-20.Приложение Использование метафор в произведениях Стивена Кинга для воплощения концепта "страх"Таблица 3. Сравнение речевых концептов "страх" в творчестве КингаМетафорические приемы в романах Стивена Кинга: выражение страха через образы"tiny creatures""he did not do bad things, they treated him badly""He was an alcoholic emotionally as much as physically...""Well, I'll deal with you" "Pascoe leaned so close to Louis that he could smell death. Pascoe, reaching for him. The soft, maddening rattle of bones. Leaning back, away from the hand, Louis began to lose his balance""Church was rocking back and forth slowly, as if drunk. Louis looked at him, shuddering with disgust, and clenched his teeth to keep from screaming. Church has never been like this, he has never swayed like a snake hypnotizing prey...""Faint, stealthy sounds came from there: the soft crunch of fallen pine needles, the dry crackle of a branch, rustling in the bushes. They were almost lost in the cries of the wind among the trees...", "The very thought of what he was doing now - standing here in the dark and calling for his dead son - sent a chill through Louis"."A cold hand fell on Louis's shoulder. Rachel's voice was raspy, earthy." She addressed him with the word "dear""Louis also tilted his head, unconsciously imitating Judd, and listened. At first the sound seemed far away, then very close; it moved away, then threateningly closer. Louis felt sweat trickle down his forehead and tickle his weathered cheeks. He shifted the bag containing Church's body from one hand to the other. The palm was wet, and the bag suddenly became slippery and almost fell out. The unknown creature was so close that Louis no longer doubted: now he would see this huge, shaggy, unthinkable something, perhaps standing on two legs; now it would step out of the shadows and obscure the sky".He no longer thought it was a bear. Now he didn't really know what he was thinking. And then it moved away and was gone.Louis opened his mouth again and was about to ask: What was that? But then a mad laugh came out of the darkness, now fading, now growing in hysterical fits – loud, piercing, bone-chilling. It seemed to Louis that every vein in his body froze, and his body itself suddenly became so heavy that if he turned around and rushed to run, he would surely immediately crash to the ground and perish in this swamp.The laughter grew and grew, and then suddenly broke into dry chuckles, like a crumbling stone on a geological fault line; he choked with a piercing scream, then turned into a deep guttural giggle, almost like a sob, and suddenly subsided.Water gurgled somewhere, and above, the wind howled plaintively, like an invisible river flowing through the heavenly channel. All other sounds in the swamp were silenced.Louis began to shake. It felt like goosebumps were running all over my body. Yes, literally "goosebumps" are thousands of tiny insects. My mouth was dry. It's like there's no saliva left at all. But the excitement didn't go away anyway. It was a kind of relentless madness.– My God, what was that? He whispered hoarsely"."Something moved in the fog.Louis froze in place, listening... yes, something was moving there in the fog, and it was getting closer. Louis's jaw literally dropped, all the tendons holding it loosened in an instant.He had never heard such a sound in his life: the sound was alive and huge. Somewhere nearby–and getting closer by the second–branches were cracking. Small bushes broke under unimaginable feet. The ground shook like jelly under Louis' feet. He suddenly realized that he was moaning,(My God, my God, what is it, what's in the fog?)and he hugged Gage to his chest again; only now did he realize that the frogs and birds had fallen silent, and the thick, sickening stench of rotten meat filled the damp air.Whatever it was, it was huge.Terrified, Louis threw back his head like a man watching the trajectory of a rocket taking off. The ground shook with the sound of the approaching creature. There was a crash of a tree–not a branch, but a whole tree–falling somewhere nearby.Louis saw something.For a moment, a bluish-gray indistinct silhouette appeared in the whitish fog, but he was over sixty feet tall".Your hair –Hot coals in winter.I want to burn in them.Эмоциональная глубина: анализ трех главных речевых концептов «страха» в выбранных романах"The Overlook has one hundred and ten rooms for guests," he continued in a lecturer's tone. "Thirty of them, and all of them are apartments, are here on the fourth floor. Ten in the west wing (including the presidential suite), ten in the center of the building and ten more in the left wing. There are magnificent views from everywhere. Is it really impossible to do without advertising? But Jack didn't say anything. He really needed this job. Ullman moved the plan of the fourth floor down, and they studied the layout of the third. –Forty rooms,– Ullman said. – Thirty double rooms and ten single rooms. On the second floor we have twenty rooms of each of these categories. In addition, there are three closets for bed linen on all floors, and two large storage rooms are located at the farthest end of the east wing of the second floor and at the western end of the first"."For a moment, a bluish-gray indistinct silhouette appeared in the whitish fog, but he was over sixty feet tall. And it was not a shadow, not a disembodied spirit; Louis felt the movement of the air disturbed by the passage of this creature, heard the rumble of its giant feet and the squelching of wet mud.For a moment, it seemed to him that two yellow-orange sparks flashed high up. Sparks like eyes.Wendigo, oh my God, it was a wendigo – a creature that walks through the northern lands, and if it touches you, you turn into an ogre. Yes, it was him. The Wendigo passed within sixty yar"He got to his feet and looked around in confusion, not understanding what had happened to him... or if it had happened at all. He was already beginning to feel like it was a dream.And then from the thicket of the forest on the other side of the deadwood, the forest is so dense,that the light there was dim and dark green even on the sunniest day, there was a roar of laughter. Laughter filled the entire space. Steve was afraid to even imagine what kind of creature could laugh like that.He ran away in one sneaker. He tried to scream, but he couldn't. He ran as fast as he could all the way to Louis' house and was still trying to scream when he got on the motorcycle, started it up and drove down Highway 15. He almost collided with a fire truck coming from Brewer. His hair stood on end under his helmet.When Steve got home in Orono, he couldn't really remember going to Ludlow at all. He called work, called in sick, took a pill and went to bed.Steve Masterton had indeed completely forgotten that day... and remembered it only in his deepest dreams, in the dead of night. In these dreams, something huge and terrible was approaching him… it reached out to him and tried to grab him, but at the last moment it still pulled back its inhuman hand.Something with huge yellow eyes burning like fog lights.Sometimes, after such dreams, Steve would wake up screaming, wake up with wild, bulging eyes, wake up and think: You think you're screaming, but it's just loons flying south. The sounds carry far away. Don't pay attention"."...The swamp is over, the ground has become solid. At some point, Louis had a strong sense of open space, although the strange dim glow in the air had already faded, and he could barely make out Judd's back three steps ahead. The frozen low grass crackled underfoot. With every step she took, she broke like glass. And then they went back under the trees. Louis could smell the pine needles. He felt the branches brushing against the sleeves of his jacket.He lost all sense of time and direction, but soon Judd stopped again and turned to him."There are steps here,– he said. – Cut into the rock. Forty-two or forty-four, I don't remember exactly. Just follow me. Let's climb to the top, and we're there.He started to get up, and Louis followed.The stone steps turned out to be quite wide, but the feeling of climbing, when the ground steeply descends and moves away with each step, was not the most pleasant. At times, my feet slipped on a scattering of small pebbles.twelve... thirteen... fourteen…""The wind became sharper and colder. My face went numb in an instant. Have we risen above the level of the trees? Louis thought. He looked up and saw a billion stars, cold lights in the dark. Never in his life had he felt so tiny and insignificant under the starry sky. Once again, Louis wondered if there was intelligent life on other planets, but now, instead of the usual tremulous amazement, this thought caused a chill of horror, as if he was asking himself what it would be like to eat a handful of living, swarming insects"."Louis looked around. The pale twinkle of the stars provided enough light. He and Judd were standing on a rocky platform that protruded from the ground like a black tongue. On the other side, they could see the tops of the coniferous trees they had passed through on their way to the steps. Obviously, they had climbed to the top of some strange plateau - a geological anomaly, more appropriate somewhere in Arizona or New Mexico. There were no trees growing here–on this flat hill, or table mountain, or whatever it is properly called–so the sun melted the snow. Turning to Judd, Louis saw the dry grass bending under the cold wind, which was now blowing directly in his face.I saw that it was a hill after all, and not a free-standing mountain. Ahead, the terrain rose again as a wooded slope. However, this site was somehow too flat and unusual for New England with its low, rolling hills…The Indians had tools, an inner voice suggested.–Come on," Judd said, and led him to a wooded slope. The wind seemed to have increased, but it gave a feeling of freshness and purity. Louis saw some strange silhouettes under the shade of the trees, and the trees themselves were amazing – he had never seen such old, tall fir trees in his life. All in all, this strange, lonely place gave the impression of emptiness–but an emptiness that contained the thrill of life.The dark silhouettes turned out to be pyramids of stones."The Mi'kmaq have cleared the top of the hill," Judd said. – No one knows how. As no one knows how the Maya built the pyramids. Even the Mi'kmaq and Maya themselves have forgotten.– Why? For what?""It was their burial ground, a place to bury the dead," Judd replied. "I brought you here to bury Ellie's cat. The Mi'kmaq made no distinction. They buried pets right next to their owners.Louis thought of the ancient Egyptians, who did even cooler things: they killed animals belonging to kings so that their souls would accompany the souls of their owners in the afterlife. He had read somewhere that together with the daughter of some pharaoh, more than ten thousand domestic animals were buried, including six hundred pigs and two thousand peacocks. The pigs were anointed with rose oil, a favorite fragrance of the deceased, before their throats were cut.And they also built pyramids. No one knows why the Mayans built them – some believe that for stargazing and time counting, like Stonehenge - but the purpose of the ancient Egyptian pyramids is known to everyone ... these are monuments to the dead, the largest tombstones in the world. "HereRamses II is resting. He was obedient, Louis thought, and giggled shrilly, helplessly"."Stop babbling; time is short; let's talk while we have the chance. Tell me about yourself, Little friend... tell me, do you like all this cold blackness that surrounds you? Are you enjoying this excursion into the void that lies in front of the Outside? Wait until you get there, Little friend! Wait until you get to where I am! Wait for it! Wait for the dead lights! You'll look, and you'll go crazy.… but you will live... and live... and live... inside them... inside Me..." is the voice of the dead lights turned to Bill when the monster tried to kill the hero""...It screamed, screamed:—…Let me go, let me go, I'll leave, I'll never come back, let ME GO, IT HURTS, IT HURTS.…It screamed in its death agony.Bill sincerely believed in it".Символическое значение метафоры в создании атмосферы ужаса в произведениях Стивена Кинга"Bang! Crack! Crack! The tree splits, scattering into splinters. A furious and contented roar. Getting closer.A whirlwind swept through the room. The paintings were torn off the walls. The record player(Mom's record player?)is upside down, lying on the floor. Her records – Grieg, Handel, The Beatles, Art Garfunkel, Bach, Liszt – are scattered everywhere. They are broken, and the jagged triangular fragments resemble pieces of a pie. A column of light penetrates from the next room. This is the bathroom. A hard white light and a word that flashes on and off in the mirrored door of the toilet cabinet like a red eye – RUM, RUM, RUM…–No,– he whispers. - No! Tony, please…And a hand hangs from the white porcelain edge of the tub. It hangs lifeless. A thin trickle of blood (RUM) flows from the middle finger along the immaculate nail and drips onto the tiled floor…No oh no oh no...(I'm begging you, Tony, you're scaring me)RUM, RUM, RUM(stop it, Tony, stop it)The world is getting dark.In the prevailing blackness, the thundering sounds become louder, and then even louder, penetrating everywhere, echoing everywhere.Now he was sprawled on the floor in the dim corridor, pressed against the blue carpet with a disorderly tangle of black silhouettes, listening to the approaching rumbling noise, because the Figure had already turned the corner and started moving towards him, staggering, exuding the smells of blood and imminent death"."She held a wooden hammer in her hand and swung it (RUM) from side to side, describing sinister semicircles in the air and bringing it down on the silk covering of the walls, knocking out ghostly clouds of plaster.Come here and get what you deserve! Behave like a man!The figure was approaching, gigantic, smelling of something sweet and sour; the head of the hammer cut through the air with a menacing hissing whisper, and then there was a booming roar as it crashed into the wall and released white pollen from it, the smell of which was also clearly felt in the air. Small red eyes glowed in the semi-darkness. The monster was already hovering over him, finding him pressed back against the bare wall. And the trapdoor in the ceiling was locked.Darkness. Moving.– Tony, please bring me back. Tony, please, "Danny woke up with a booming roar in his ears and a wild, hoarse voice:Come here, and I'll teach you a lesson! I'll find you! I'll find you anyway!But the thud turned out to be just the rapid beating of his own heart, and the only scream in the night was the distant wail of a police siren.He lay motionless, watching the shadows of the leaves of the trees play on the ceiling. They bent whimsically, merged together, forming a semblance of vines and other climbing plants, resembling a pattern woven on a thick carpet. Danny was wearing warm pajamas, but a sticky layer of cold sweat had formed between her and his skin.– Tony! – He whispered. – Are you here?No one responded.He slipped out from under the covers, walked softly to the window and looked out at Arapahoe Street, now empty and quiet. Two o'clock in the morning. There was no one there, just sidewalks strewn with fallen leaves, parked cars and a street lamp on the corner across the street from the Cliff Bryce gas station. The curved top and immobility gave the lantern a resemblance to a monster from films about space aliens.Danny looked all over the street, straining his eyes not to miss Tony's vague, alluring figure, but he didn't see anyone.The wind moaned in the treetops, rustled dry leaves, chasing them along the sidewalk and around the wheels of cars. It was a barely audible but sad sound, and the boy thought that he was probably the only one in the whole of Boulder who was awake and could hear it. At least the only person. But how would he know what else might lurk in the night, prowling predationally in the deep shadows, watching and sniffing the air currents?I'll find you! I'll find you anyway!– Tony! – He whispered again, but without much hope".please…""Louis looked around and saw that he was left alone with the dying man. From somewhere in the distance, Joan Charlton's voice could be heard yelling at the nurses that the stretcher was in the pantry by the second treatment room. Louis doubted very much that the girls would distinguish the pantry at the second treatment room from the toad gonads; today was their first day of work. A nice introduction to the world of medicine! The green carpet in the waiting room was soaked through with blood in the place where the guy's broken head lay; at least the intracranial fluid was no longer leaking out.–Pet cemetery," the young man croaked... and stretched his lips into a grin strikingly similar to the hysterical, mirthless grin of the nurse who was closing the curtains"."Louis stared at him in disbelief. Then I decided that it was an auditory hallucination.He made a few incoherent sounds, and my subconscious put words together from them, adjusting these sounds to what all my thoughts have been doing lately. But something else happened, and in the next second Louis was forced to admit it. A completely insane fear seized him, goosebumps ran down his back – they ran, almost literally – everything inside turned over ... however, even then he categorically did not want to believe his ears. Yes, the guy's bloody lips had molded the words Louis had heard, but that only meant that the hallucination was not only auditory, but also visual.– What did you say? – He whispered.This time the words sounded clear, like the speech of a talking parrot.:– This is not a real cemetery.His bloodshot eyes were lifeless and empty; his lips were frozen in a grin that resembled the snarl of a dead fish.Louis's heart clenched in horror, as if an invisible icy hand had squeezed it. He suddenly felt weak and small. He wanted to run away from here, to run away from that bloody, mutilated talking head on the floor. Louis has always been far from religion and had no penchant for the occult and other otherworldly things. He was completely unprepared for... for what was happening now.Fighting the urge to run, he forced himself to lean even closer to the guy.– What did you say? – He repeated.That grin was nasty."The earth in the human heart is even harder, Louis,– the dying man whispered. – A person grows what he can and takes care of the crops.Louis, he thought, no longer listening to what happened next. Oh my God, he called me by my name"."Who are you? Louis asked in a brittle, trembling voice. – Who are you?– The Indian brings me fish.– How do you know how to...– Stay away. Know ...– You...– Ka-a-a, – said the young man, and now it seemed to Louis that in his breath there was a smell of death, internal injuries, a malfunction of heart rhythms, a break, an end.- what? "He was seized with a mad desire to shake the dying man well"."Louis opened his eyes and stared straight into Church's yellow-green eyes. Literally four inches from his face. The cat was lying on his chest, neatly curled up, like a creature from the superstition about creatures stealing a person's breath. An unbearable stench emanated from him in slow, poisonous waves. He was purring softly.Louis screamed in disgust and abruptly put out his hands, as if deflecting a blow. Church fell off the bed, landed on his side, got up slowly and walked away with his unsteady, staggering gait.God! Oh, my God! He was lying right on top of me!He felt sick with disgust, as if a spider had crawled into his mouth. For a moment, Louis thought he was really going to be sick"."And George saw that the clown's face had changed.He saw horror in front of him, compared to which the most eerie images of the creature in the basement seemed like sweet dreams. What he saw at once, with one blow of a clawed paw, deprived him of his mind."They're flying,– the creature in the drain cooed in a strangled, chuckling voice. She held George's hand in a strong, burning grip and dragged him towards the terrible darkness, where the water was rushing down with a roar and roar, carrying the debris washed into it by the rain to the ocean. George craned his neck to avoid looking into this transcendent blackness, and screamed into the rain, shouted incoherently into the white autumn sky that curved in a wide arc over Derry on the afternoon of that day, in the autumn of 1957. His piercing, heart-rending screams were heard by the whole of Witcham Street: in the houses below the drain, above, people rushed to the windows or ran out onto the porch.""They're flying," It growled, "they're flying, Georgie, and when you're down with me, you'll be flying too, le…George's shoulder was pressed against the concrete of the curb, and Dave Gardener, who stayed at home, did not go to the Shoe Ship where he worked because of the flood, saw only a boy in a yellow raincoat, a little boy screaming and twitching in the murky water that overflowed his face, causing the screams to partially choke, bubbling."Everything below is flying," whispered a laughing, vile voice, and then suddenly the boy heard something tearing, a wave of blinding pain rolled over, and that was it for George Denbrough.""After coming down from the porch, the clown began to dance wildly, with a bunch of balloons in one hand and a torn, bleeding leg of a child in the other. The clown costume fluttered as if in a strong wind, but Beverly did not feel any wind. Her legs tangled, and she fell to the sidewalk, barely managing to put out her hands to soften the blow. The pain from his palms shot up to his shoulders. The woman, who was pushing a shopping cart in front of her, stopped, looked back hesitantly, and then moved on, slightly accelerating her pace.The clown walked towards her, throwing away the severed leg. She fell onto the lawn with a thud. Beverly lay sprawled on the sidewalk for a moment, fully convinced that she would wake up very soon, that this could not be in real life, that this was a nightmare…She realized that she was mistaken a moment before the clown's bent, long-fingernailed fingers touched her. The clown was real; he could have killed her. How he killed other children."The starlings know your real name,– Beverly suddenly shouted.The clown recoiled, and it suddenly seemed to her that the smile on his lips inside the painted big red smile turned into a grimace of hatred and pain ... or maybe fear. But perhaps the change should have been attributed to her imagination, and Beverly definitely had no idea why she said such a thing, but the phrase allowed her to gain a few seconds.She jumped up and ran. Brakes screeched and a gruff voice, both furious and scared, yelled: Out of the corner of her eye, Beverly saw a bread van that almost knocked her over when she darted across the street like a child after a rubber ball, and then stood on the sidewalk on the opposite side, panting"