Ivan went to medical school consciously and spent more time in the anatomy room than all the other students.
- Why did you decide to become a pathologist? - his friends asked him. - You could treat children or nervous ladies: it's clean, uncomplicated work.
- That's exactly why! - Ivan exclaimed. - The dead aren't nervous, don't squeal, and don't blow snot. And cleanliness in the morgue should be no worse than in the operating room.
His friends had given up on him, but they never missed an opportunity to make a couple of funny jokes over a mug of beer. One day Vityok, his school friend, came to Ivan's house after dinner.
- Why are you so late? - Ivan asked him. - I was waiting for you to watch the match.
- My brother's sick. And then there's this trip!
- What voucher?
- You know," Vityok began to explain, "Mishka has been obsessed with vampires since first grade. So I foolishly promised to take him to Romania. Yesterday I took a hot ticket to Brasov, with an excursion to Dracula's castle. But Mishka ate something, he couldn't get out of the toilet all night and had a fever. He was upset, of course, but where can you go with something like that? It's a pity about the tickets, they'll go to waste. Maybe we should go, huh?
- Vampires aren't really my thing. I deal with the dead, of course, but not the living dead, you know, the dead.
- Come on, let's go, Vanya. Where will I put the tickets now?
- Well, let's go," Ivan waved his hand.
***
The hotel in Brasov was poor, but for three days and two nights the friends didn't care about the lack of amenities. After dropping their bags and changing their clothes, they went out for a walk around the city, which was slowly sinking into the evening twilight.
- The excursion is scheduled for tomorrow at ten in the morning," Vityok said, "I can imagine Mishka's upset face right now.
- Look, Vityok, what's that here? - Ivan asked, pointing to a cemented wall with an old metal gate.
They walked two or three blocks away from the hotel. They looked through the bars of the gate and saw a small park covered with fallen October leaves, and some structure in the depths. As the boys looked around the park, the gate creaked.
- It's not locked," Ivan said.
The boys pushed open the gate, which creaked much more than they had expected, and stepped inside. An old man came out of the crypt-like structure and walked toward them.
- It's a little late for you guys, it's getting dark already," said the old man.
- What's a little late for what? - Vityok asked.
- Aren't you tourists?
- Tourists. What is this, a museum?
- We have a cemetery here," the old man replied simply.
Ivan and Vityok looked at each other.
- W-we seem to have made a mistake," Vityok muttered, and turned to leave the gate.
- Wait a minute," Ivan held him back, taking him by the sleeve, "Do tourists come to your cemetery? - he asked the old man.
- There are tourists everywhere. They only come here during the day, though.
- Afraid?
- I don't know if they're afraid, I just don't let them in this time. This is when I smear the dead.
Vityok, held by Ivan's sleeve, started to tear at the gate again, but his friend held him firmly.
- What do you do with the dead, excuse me? - Ivan asked the old man.
- I use a special oil. You have to dab them once a day.
- Why?
- To stop certain processes.
- Decomposition processes? - suggested Ivan, who had entered his professional frenzy.
- Not only that," the old man replied, "but also the processes of residual vitality.
Then Vityok began to wriggle as if he wanted to get out of his jacket. Even Ivan, who had seen a lot, felt uneasy.
- What kind of life activity can the dead have if they're dead? - he asked slowly.
- That's the thing," the old man explained, "no one's quite sure they're dead.
- What's that? - Vityok's voice, however, sounded more like a bleat.
- You see," the cemetery caretaker began to explain, "there is an assumption that these dead men were bitten by a local vampire when they were alive. The assumption is not fully substantiated, as well as the existence of that vampire, but on the basis of some facts and strange evidence, they decided to keep them here under supervision.
The boys stared at the old man, afraid to move. Vityok began to slip slowly to the ground, but Ivan leaned him against the gate like a mannequin, and he fell silent.
- And what do you smear them with? - Ivan asked, pulling himself together a little.
- A doctor who dealt with these bites invented a special oil. I don't know its exact composition, but I think it contains garlic. It's my job to dab it on them once a day, so they stay still. Tourists quickly got wind of the story and started dropping by. They don't forbid me to let them in, so I show them the dead things sometimes.
- Did you ever fail to anoint them in time? - Ivan inquired, with a note in his voice so familiar to Vitya that he began to wriggle in his jacket again and mumble something.
- It has happened," said the old man, "but while you're distracting me, I might miss the appointed hour.
- I realize we're at a bad time," Ivan began from a distance, and Vityok, smelling bad again, grabbed the gate with both hands and began to make desperate jerks. - Can't we have a look at them by way of exception? - And he added: "I'm a pathologist.
- Well," the old man agreed with sudden ease, "take a look. And since you're a pathologist, maybe you'll help me at the same time. I can't do it alone now.
Vitya's voice cut through so quickly that he shouted:
- Vanya, I'm not going there, even if you cut me!
- Come on, Vitek! It's just an ordinary cemetery. They made an advertisement for tourists. You'll see, they've got some skinny mummy lying there and a bunch of jars with worms in them. Come on, don't be afraid! - and Ivan dragged his friend, who was about to faint, by the sleeve.
***
The three entered the crypt, which, to the surprise of the two friends, was well lit inside. They went down a small staircase, and the old man turned right into a narrow corridor. What they saw at the end of the corridor made them stop and gape. From a room so small on the outside, a huge spiral staircase led several meters deep, with exits to several platforms. Each landing rested on a concrete block with openings five or six stories high. On each floor there were rows of numbered boxes sliding into the depth of the block.
The old man calmly descended a few steps, climbed up to one of the platforms, placed a stepladder in the middle of the platform and climbed up on it.
- I usually start dabbing from the top row," he announced.
In each block there was one vacant niche where there was no drawer. There were jars of some white substance, like coconut oil, and various implements, like embalmer's tools. The old man pulled out one of the drawers, took a jar of the white substance, opened the lid, scooped up some oil with his fingers, and began to work inside the drawer, explaining to Ivan:
- I don't have another stepladder, so if you want to help, start at the bottom. The oil has to be rubbed into the skin. It's easy to rub in, so it's not a difficult job.
Ivan looked at his comrade. Vitya's face was a strange greenish color. He felt sorry for his friend.
- Vityok," he said, "well, you sit here on the step, and I'll go and see what he has in his drawers.
- Vanya, let's get out of here, eh? - he said in a weak voice.
- We'll go now, don't worry, we'll go now.
He sat Vitya down on the step, went down to the platform, went to one of the boxes, took hold of the handle and pulled it with the familiar movement of a morgue attendant. The drawer slid out easily. Inside lay a man. Naked and dead. Male. The old man, who had already dealt with four dead men, handed Ivan a jar of oil from a stepladder.
- Here, dab it on.
Ivan took the jar, but asked just in case:
- Are you sure it's necessary?
And then his eye caught some movement in the box. It was not that the dead man moved, it was something like a breeze that touched his skin, as if only the epidermis had come to life. Ivan thought he had imagined it, but the old man said as calmly as ever:
- See, it's coming back to life. I've been talking to you guys.
- Who's coming to life? - Vityok shrieked and clung to the railing of the stairs, turning from green to yellowish gray.
Ivan felt himself getting uncomfortable too, but professionalism took over, and he picked up some oil with his fingers and began to smear it over the skin of the naked man lying in the box. The man's skin was cold, but Ivan noted that it was still not as cold as he was used to feeling in his years of practice. However, the dead man's skin immediately stopped moving. The oil rubbed in very easily indeed, and in a minute Ivan had finished his work.
- Take on the other one," said the old man, climbing down from the stepladder. - I've finished with the upper ones, I'll go to the next site, and you finish here.
Just as he said this, a light thump was heard inside one of the boxes. Ivan jumped up, and Vityok rolled over onto his stomach and began to climb slowly up the stairs, unable to get to his feet. His face was a pale blue color.
- It's from the ninth," said the old man calmly, "the lady's a bit jumpy, if you don't anoint her in time, she's always the first to wake up. Don't worry, they come to life slowly during the night. Just anoint her right away, she'll calm down. I'll take care of the others.
Ivan, feeling the blood starting to drain from his face, opened drawer number 9 slightly. There lay a woman of about forty-five years old. She did not move. With trembling fingers Ivan scooped up the oil and slowly brought his hand to the body of the nervous dead woman. The woman raised her hand and grazed Ivan's fingers, stained with oil. The boy let out a short cry, and Vityok, who had already crawled to the top of the stairs, jumped to his feet and jammed his whole body into the closed door of the crypt.
However, the oil from Ivan's fingers on the lady's body instantly calmed her down and she quieted down. The future pathologist began to smear the substance on her skin with convulsive movements, shaking his whole body. When he finished his work, he frantically pushed the box with the lady inside the block. The old man got down from the stepladder again and went on his way, when suddenly from one block, two flights down, such powerful blows were heard that one could see the handle of the box shuddering.
The jar fell out of Ivan's hands and rolled down the stairs. The boy turned and rushed to his comrade, who was hugging the door like a lover, probing it with his fingers and pressing his whole body against it, and howling softly.
- Pull the door towards you," said the old man calmly as always, climbing up his stepladder to the moving box. - Well, you go ahead, I'll do it myself, because you're a pain in the ass.
Ivan unhooked his friend from the door, pulled it open, grabbed Vitya by the scruff of the neck and dragged him out into the fresh air. They didn't remember how they got to the hotel. After drinking half a bottle of port, Vityok said in a voice that sounded like a knife scratching on glass:
- Vanya, maybe we won't go to Dracula's castle tomorrow, huh?
- Let's not go, Vitek," Ivan replied in a muffled whisper, "let's stay at the hotel.