A scary tale from a parallel reality about how, at the beginning of the 20th century, a physicist entered into a contract with a demon. This writing is dedicated to Indiana Jones, without whom my childhood would have been completely different. It is also dedicated to three tons of tabloid press, tabloid fantasy and back-of-house theories, without which it undoubtedly would not have taken place. It is also dedicated to a number of people whom I dare not even mention, lest they turn over in their graves. Of course, it itself belongs to the category of yellow tabloid bullshit, which I warn you about right away. This is obvious, but I will still say: the entire following story is an absolute fiction, has no relation to real persons and historical events, and all coincidences are generated by the sick imagination of the author. It does not contain an ounce of propaganda in favor of the Forces of the Night, the Forces of the Day or any other forces. There are no demons, there are no flying saucers, and there is no Santa Claus either. Thank you for your possible attention.))