The Messenger

The golden sound echoed around the mountains funnelling down into valleys and ringing through the rotting village of Leszek, which was shadowed by the foreboding forest. Ajax stood hypnotised by the sound that was like pure honey; his scythe fell to the floor and his limbs hung like frozen slabs of meat by his sides. His downy, brown hair ruffled in the autumn breeze.  His eyes stared blankly searching for the source of the sensual sound. Before he had even realised he was running to the dark forbidden woods his legs had carried him. The rest of the men in the fields seemed ignorant to the blissful music that was in the air. Would they notice if he left them? For a moment he lingered. But the moment lasted, torn between his duty and desire. It wasn’t difficult to decide. A widower’s life, children and wife dead from the constant siege of Warg attacks. What life? What duty?

            The sun beat through the lush green leaves and cast an eerie glow over the forest floor. Clinks of sun highlighted the bindweed and ragwort giving them the appearance of exotic flowers rather than common weeds that choked his crops. The sound wouldn’t stop. It was so beautiful. Ajax ran his fingers through his hair frustrated. His hazel eyes widened the sound, the song, seemed so close he could feel the vibrations in the air. He was so deep in the forest that he couldn’t hear the workers agonising at their labour. He’d not been this far for many years. The stories of fiends and the death toll the village had faced over the years had made him fear the very concept of entering the forest. As a child he’d known a very different life. The houses had been spread across the now empty forest, no cramped homes, space to live and breath. That had changed when the attacks had begun.

He remembered when the attacks started. Not many men lived to remember them. But Ajax did. Endless waves of hideous creatures clawing at doors screaming taking all they could deep into the forests. They thought they were simply killing, for sport maybe, or food. But nothing had prepared them to see what they saw. Just days after family life had been torn apart, children would begin to see their mothers, mothers their children, coming to the house at night. But they weren’t really their loved ones. They were empty shells possessed by some evil within them that compelled them to return to the houses to feast on the little life that remained within the scattered houses. The few that remained left the woods. Not far as land was barren the further from the forest they went. They regrouped. Formed the village painted crosses on their doors to satisfy their superstition.

Ajax remembered it well.

 

He’d known all parts of the woods when he was younger. He could find his way blindfolded through them. He knew every nook, cranny and the best hiding places. He remembered a time when he could fearlessly play in the woods. But he wasn’t a child anymore. He was a man. Tall, strong with mousy hair and somewhat attractive features. His face, although baring the scars from the battles of life, was not tainted by them. His heart however was scarred. The loss of his children and wife in the Warg attacks just a few years ago had been the low point of his life. They had taken them in the night while he was at the watch. They had torn flesh from their bones. They had devoured it and then left the remains in their beds for him to find. They seemed to taunt him.

            Where was the beautiful sound? After being lost in his own thoughts so long he feared he’d strayed off path. He reminded himself that he had never seen a path. He had known by instinct where the sound was. But now he felt lost and confused. The woods he trod in were not any part he remembered. The flowers and foliage seemed much denser than what he knew. He pushed through the branches, which seemed to be consuming him with every step he took. He needed to find that sound. That beautiful, singing, humming, chirping or whatever sound it might be that he couldn’t put his finger on. But he couldn’t hear it. He pushed further into the arm-like branches yearning to hear that incredible music.

            Abruptly, Ajax found himself with the full sun on his face. Its golden glow warming him and filling him with content. For a moment he forgot the danger the woods presented. The beautiful sound began again. This time it was distinguishable:

 

This night I shall dream of your brown eyes

Wrapped in echoes from the deep dark night,
I long to sip from your lips.

The sun and the moon in their eclipse
In the twilight we feast adorned in white silk,

Our only true way that we will ever bilk

We pluck our kisses from the roots.

 

Oh this night we do sleep in one another’s arms

Tonight we cry that we come to no harm

 

This night I shall dream of your brown eyes

Wrapped in echoes from the deep dark night,
I long to sip from your lips.

The sun and the moon in their eclipse
In the twilight we feast adorned in white silk,

Our only true way that we will ever bilk

We pluck our kisses from the roots.

 

In front of him there was a huge clearing where there stood a beautiful thatched cottage with roses crawling up the walls. The scent of bread and freshly cut flowers invigorated his senses. The music washed over him. There sat by the picturesque stone well sat a young woman. Her golden locks poured over her shoulders and onto her heavy breasts. Her naked porcelain body seemed to shimmer and sparkle in the sunlight. She bit her lip slightly in a lascivious way. Her big, blue, beautiful eyes glinted and she just grinned at him. Unashamed by her nudity and obviously aware of her enticing aura she threw her head backwards and laughed a delicious laugh that filled Ajax’s body with excitement. She gestured for him to come to her. He had no control over his body. He seemed to be floating a few inches off the floor because he could have sworn he didn’t move his feet. Those beautiful eyes kept staring. He was moving close and close his eyes focused in hers but he couldn’t feel himself moving.

The sky was beautiful that day. The sun beat at the lush green leaves and cast an eerie glow over the forest floor. Clinks of sun highlighted the bindweed and ragwort. A cloud moved over the sun for a few seconds. The birds flew from the trees and then men working in their fields fled to their houses when a blood curdling scream shatter the blissful silence of the day.

 

 

The cottage seemed to almost ripple as the warm light turned cold and the sky covered with clouds. The roses seemed to wither within seconds the trancelike spell was broke. The cottage looked ancient and rotting, the door barely on its hinges. The naked girl sat their still grinning in her striking sort of way. But the bronzed tone of her sparkling skin faded to a dull blue-grey. She laughed her delicious laugh and strode proudly from her seat by the well. Her golden hair danced on her back. She winced a little as her bare feet pressed into the stony, dusty floor. She spotted the door was ajar and laughed again.

“Morana, Oh Morana,” she patronised “I can see you. I can see your grubby hands and your grimy feet. Oh Morana…” Her voice was like a song.

A small girl pushed open the door a little more. Her dainty, dirty fingers seemed to stroke the carved wood frame and her blackened fingernails dug into it as she pulled herself upright. She slowly, with shuffling feet, made her way towards her bawdy sister. Her feet were bare but not soft and pink like the beautiful maid. They were thick soled with grey clay like mud caked up her frail bony ankles that were met by muddy hemmed brown dress. The dress was ill fitted and drooped awkwardly around her skinny body. It was tied around the waist with a length of rope and an off-white apron hung with red speckles. She had a mop of yellow, dirty hair that hung limply around her shoulders covering all her face with none of the grace and subtly that her sister so naturally had.

“What is it Tunda?” She obediently asked

“I just wondered why you were peeking in…oh…” She laughed when she saw Morana flush scarlet “You should brush your hair my darling sister” she began to comb through her hair with her fingers.

Morana was beginning to become infuriated but she didn’t react and continued to be patronised. Slowly Tunda moved the greasy hair from Morana’s face.

“See you’re so…beautiful” Her breath was tickling against her cheek. She seemed as if she could hardly refrain from laughter, Morana could hear it in her voice. She started to pull away but Tunda held tight and it stung her scalp as the hair was tugged. Her lips were close to hers now her breath smelt fruity and strange. Morana started to shake with anger.

She sniggered. Morana had finally had enough. Like a wolf gnawing its own paw off to escape a trap with one painful push she over powered her sister leaving just a few yellow hairs in her tight fists. She didn’t deserve to be treated like one of her playthings. She didn’t know that her sister was on the floor now. She didn’t see the fuming look that she gave her. Morana had already started to run; she didn’t care where to she just needed to run. She held her hands out in front of her and tried to concentrate her feet fell clumsily into each step and she tripped several times over protruding branches and stones. Her knees cut and bled but she kept going. She didn’t know how long she’d been running for but she found herself disorientated. She fell to the ground again. This time it wasn’t hard and dusty it was soft and mossy. She kneeled there a little while. She listened for a few moments to make sure she hadn’t been followed. Silence, except for the birds. She moved her dirty hair, which was now sticky against her flushed face away for it to cool. She touched her face. Her small lips, her petite nose and up to her closed eyes. The lids soft and eyelashes long. She knew she had shared the same beauty as her sister. She opened her eyes. Except there were no eyes. The sockets were empty and sore. Still bruised and red around the edges. But the holes weren’t as a humans They went on forever. Inside them nothing but fear itself could be seen. Death, pain, all the answers to everything but all at once. No one had looked into them and been the same. They had changed. Knowing everything changes a person. She touched them. And screamed into the woods. She wanted to cry. But she lost the ability to cry when she lost her eyes. She tried to work out where she was she could smell the forest. The pine and leaves and flowers stimulating her sense. She touched the soft moss and felt forwards to a smooth stone. She tried to focus and use her minds eye to make a picture of it. It was a black stone. Her fingers ran around the edges of it. Square. Marble maybe. The image was fuzzy and she soon lost it. She wailed into the woods hunched over the smooth stone her fingers stroking its silky surface. Desperate to see what it was she touched.

 

Ajax’s field of vision was completely non-existent. An inky blackness shed over his sight. He held his hands in front of his face but still nothing. His hands pressed down into the seemingly sodden ground as he attempted to push himself up. It was sticky. There was a peculiar smell. He rubbed the sticky liquid between his fingers, smelt it then, with the point of his tongue he licked it. His whole body felt numb. Blood. He hastily pushed himself up and backed against a wall. It was curved and stone. His eyes slowly started to adjust to the light. The whole floor seemed to be moving. Crawling. Rats. Big, hairy, rats. He tried to push himself up the wall by standing on the rounded stone that he felt with his feet. But the stone cracked and he fell to the floor on his hands and knees. He turned to touch the rock. It wasn’t a rock. It was a shattered, brittle skull. It had bits of flesh clung on the shattered scalp and a few strands persistently held on. Panic set in. He was trapped. The walls were smooth. Too smooth to climb. The rats swarmed around his ankles biting him. He felt like he was suffocating. The nausea came over him in waves. The floor seemed to jump towards him. Then there was blackness again. A dark, empty void, which was seemingly endless but at the same time it wasn’t the least bit threatening.

 

Morana wasn’t sure how long she’d been sat wailing to herself. Slowly her minds eye began to reveal where she was. She could sense the shapes of the trees around her and feel the heat of where her feet had trod hours ago. She followed them backwards, ready to face her sister’s next barrage of insults. She approached the house cautiously; she could feel the presence of others there. Her hands trembled as she held them out in front of her, her brow ached through the frown of concentration so she relaxed her face but as she did so the shapes disappeared. She was left vulnerable again.

            From inside the house she could hear that dreadful laughter; it was so beautiful it made her chest hurt. With a deep breath hand on heart she ventured further.  She heard male voices and wasn’t surprised in the slightest. There were always men over. She smelt their pheromones. She enthralled them, excited them. Morana was bitter. Her stretched arms touched the ornate doorframe, her fingers brushing against the crude images. She felt her way along the dusty hall. She just wished Tunda would stop laughing for once.

“Morana…Oh Morana. Why don’t you come here and meet my friends?” Tunda cackled.

            Morana scrunched up her face and quickly shuffled past the door and found her way to her bedroom, shut the door promptly and leant against it. She sank to the floor and laid her head in her knees, entwined her fingers in her hair and pulled enough for it to hurt. She wished there was silence but all she could hear was that shrill, beautiful laugh, mocking her.

            Morana’s room was a death trap. Piles of books filled up most of the space. Quills and inks were scattered across the floor staining the musty splintery wood.  From the ceiling hung bunches of herbs that had died many years since, were tied with hemp rope. There were several crude tables in the room. Paints, canvases and terracotta plant pots sprawled over them. The plants were whitened from the lack of light. In the far side of the room a chink of light spotlighted a single Anemone, flourishing and a brilliant purple.

            She knew every step to her bed. Which floorboards creaked, where every book was and every obstacle that could cause her hazard. Yes, her room was a death trap, even to those who could see but to her, it was a stronghold, a place of sanctum where Tunda could never enter.

            Morana made the journey as carefully as ever. Her petite hands stretched in front. Spider webs brushed across her face and stuck in her hair. She bent down and picked up a leather bound book. Her fingers stroked across the find lettering on the front. She concentrated. Her minds eye tried to distinguish the symbols but she soon became frustrated. She opened the book and touched page after page, trying to see them in her minds eye. Every page she turned her anger boiled a little more. She ripped several pages out then threw it at the opposite wall screaming. Then she was silent and she felt for her bed. The linen was covered in leaves and petals. She brushed them aside and slipped into the dirty covers. The familiar smell was calming to her. She pulled the cover up over her face and covered her ears but she could still hear the laughter. The panting. The groaning. Her face scrunched and she buried her face into the mattress. That day had been just on of the many days, months, years that blurred and stretched out to an infinity of darkness.

           

Ajax woke to a bright light shining in his face. He slowly opened his eyes as he squinted against the autumn sun creeping across his prison. For the first time he saw his cell for what it was. He recognised the stone, as that of the well but on one portion of the wall there was a sturdy iron gate. Beneath his feet were years of desecrated corpses writhing with maggots. Small, solid droppings were the only indication of the rats that had feasted there the night before.

            Ajax heard a rattle and pressed against the far wall. Soon a dark figure appeared in the slit of a doorway. They wore a heavy black dress too big for such a skeletal structure. Although difficult to make out it was defiantly a girl. Her hood covered most of her face and in her skinny hands she held a wooden plate with a single red apple on it and a glass of something foul that he dreaded to think what it could be.

“Old hag. Release me!”

Morana felt shame under the dark hood but her silence spoke more words than a reply could.

“Reveal yourself to me. I must see who it is that has ensnared me here” His voice was bitter.

Without a word she pushed her wooden plate through the gap in the bars along with the putrid drink and made her way back to the cellar door. For a moment the man took it and stared hungrily at it before he shouted and threw it at the bars. Morana looked back. She pitied the man for he would not live long, yet she envied him beyond all reason for being more human than she ever could be.

 

“What. Do. You. Think. You’re. DOING?”

A slender hand grabbed her from behind the other clutched her hair. She was thrust against a wall and Tunda’s sickly sweet breath was on her face. Morana stayed silent.

“He is mine. Do you get it? Mine. I took him. So I decide what happens to him. Not you.”

Morana replied with more silence. Tunda’s grip tightened around her neck.

“Do you get it?”

Morana nodded.

“I can make life hell for you. More than what you already think it is. More than I did when we were young” Tunda snarled as she threw Morana to the side and stalked off.

Morana grasped at her throat and breathed in steadily, shaking off the dizziness she felt. She listened for the patter of soft feet on stone tiles to disappear then spoke aloud. 

“I’m not 8 years old anymore Tunda.”

 She stood up into her usual hunched position, brushed down her now dusty rags and held out her arms. She felt the scorched tapestries that hung obscurely on the walls and the cold, carved wooden doorframes. She found her way to the largest one and felt down to the handle. The door had swollen from centuries of seasonal changes and was stiff to open. After battling with it she stepped through and felt the warm stone that had been heated by the sun while the chill of the autumn breeze brought from the north, made the hairs on her arms stand on end. The delicious scents and tastes in the winds told her stories of lands far away of snow. She took a few steps onto the dusty floor and smiled to herself. She knew she was alone. Tunda had her magic and she had her own. In her minds eye she pictured how she wanted the cottage to be. She stepped forwards and the dust became soft moss and sharp grass tickling her muddy ankles. Another step, leaves blew around her crisp and orange, red, green and yellow. Her dirty hair gusted around her. She could see it all. The colours so vivid and beautiful, the textures so sensual it was almost real. Almost. As her thoughts doubted for a moment the images disappeared and were replaced by the former blackness. The soft floor became the usual hard stone and dust. Her heart sank; For a moment she’d felt as any other person had felt at least once. She shuffled her way back into the woods.

Morana wanted to get lost in the woods. Like she had when she was a child until she’d learnt them with her eyes closed like when she’d learnt with no eyes. But now it had become almost impossible to not note every footfall and every line she’d dug, every stone she’d placed to tell her. She had been lost yesterday but she hadn’t been concentrating then, she hadn’t felt the shapes and the spirits of the trees. She’d just run. Now the fear and adrenaline wasn’t throbbing through her body, she couldn’t help but pay attention. She knew the path forked ahead. Left lead to the village and right lead into the darker parts of woods where Tunda’s ‘friends’ dwelt behind the shadows.  She stood at the fork for a few moments considering the consequences of both options.  The villagers feared her; they screamed and hid when they saw her. The shadow dwellers, the Wargs, the Asanbosam’s and the other untameable beasts who think of nothing but bellyfill would either welcome her, or open her body and eat her entrails.  She sat on the small stone she’d placed there many years ago to mark the fork and placed her head on her frail knees. Concentrating she built up the picture around her using her minds eye, touch and smell. Shapes began to etch into the darkness; looming trees with clawed hands reaching out ready to snag anyone who ventured beneath them. Her fingers brushed across the rich moist floor. The scent suggested that the apples were ripening. She felt overwhelmed and needed to cry but she knew it was impossible. A peculiar odour began to fill her nostrils. A strong smell of lavender began to intensify around her followed by the distinct smell of rosemary and ammonia. A strong but gentle hand clutched her shoulder its long thin fingers covering it with ease.

“Are you crying? Are you lost?” A kind male voice spoke.

 

Ajax could see, feel and taste her.

“Danica?”

He felt numb. It couldn’t be. His lips kept plucking kisses from her. He’d not seen her in years. She was looking as radiant as the day they’d met. Her liquorice black hair, chocolate brown eyes pouting rouge lips were exactly as he’d remembered. She was wearing her cream loosely fitted dress. His hands moved over her back.

“Is this a dream?” He whispered clinging to her back. “I don’t want it to end”

The trees around him rustled and waved. He pulled away but it wasn’t his beautiful wife he was holding onto. The straight black strands were golden curls the cream dress was replaced by porcelain skin and the beautiful brown eyes were an icy blue. He pushed away and the girls stunning laugh turned into a terrifying cackle. He tried to get away but he realised he wasn’t in the forest. His back pressed against the cold stone of the well the image of the terrifyingly gorgeous girl faded and he was alone in his prison of rotting corpses.

            His eyes filled with tears. He hadn’t seen his wife so vividly in years. Not even his dreams had recreated her so perfectly. His heart ached to see her again, ached to see his children. There long black locks, pale freckled faces but the picturesque image was tainted by his last memory of them. All that blood. The image flashed in his head. He’d seen the Wargs coming that night. He’d rushed back to the house to protect them but it had been too late. He let out a wail of desperation and hit his head hard against the wall. Liquid seeped from his hair and onto his eyes.

“Danica, please come back,” he wept.

 

The fingers clasped Morana’s shoulder with the gentlest touch but still letting her know their strength. Her mouth began to tremble slightly. The voice and presence seemed oddly familiar even though she was certain that she’d not encountered it before. The voice was a soft husky voice, which seemed almost comforting but the smell that emitted from the male figure made her feel dizzy and repulsed. Her nostrils flared and face wrinkled slightly. She tried to build the picture up in her minds eye but she as she began the image fogged over. Her hands scrabbled to push herself up and run as fear set in and remaining senses were failed. She never lost all her senses. There was something about this…man? Being? that terrified her. The smell seemed to numb Morana. Her scrabbling limbs deceased as the man drew closer she felt her arm fall by her sides and her head lolled back slightly. The fog dispersed and blackness followed.

            Morana woke expecting to feel the hard dirt path below her, pressing into her bony body. Instead, she was surprisingly comfortable. As she moved slightly the material below her crisped like the sound of dry leaves being stood on in the autumn. She felt the itchy, warm blanket around her shoulders. She moved her hands down the bedding and felt for some indication of where she was. Her minds eye was still in the inky blackness but now her other senses were prickling like crazy. There was no breeze so she was definitely inside. Sound began to flood into her ears. Birds, scuttling, and all the woodland animals that fled from her seemed to be near and breathing.

“Ahhh, you’re awake. I sometimes forget the repellent!” A cheery voice rang into her senses.

Morana froze for a second then tousled out of the bed in fear, she immediately tripped over a pile of something and howled in pain as she felt her toes break and bleed.

“Shh. I’ll fix it. Please, just be calm.”

Morana felt the creature’s presence come towards her and touch her hand. She wanted to run but her foot was sending searing pains up her leg so instead she huddled in a ball pressing her forehead into the floor.

            The long fingers rested on her hand.

“Don’t fear Morana. Sense me. You’ll know I mean you no harm.”

He lifted her hand and placed a cold object in it.

“Use this.” He said in a cryptic nature.

            The object was smooth and small but top heavy. It felt like a cold, metal vines with a square shape on top of them. She ran her fingers across the square and emotions and images began pumping through her brain as her body went into over drive. She began shaking as for a moment the whole room came into view as if she wasn’t blind at all.

            The brown concave and convex walls were a beautiful velvety wood and the floor was covered in books and paintings the bed she had laid on was in the middle. The creature he was a man-being. With wild black hair and pale green sapling skin, with clothes made of grass and leaves. He was so tall! Behind him an old woman who was small with a single eye in the centre of her forehead. The feelings flooded her mind. Expectations, hope, love and fear over powered her. She felt herself fall backwards onto the pile of heavy books that she had broken her toes on. Then the blackness came again.

 

Morana woke to muffled voices. The comforting, yet terrifying male voice was bitterly whispering to the old hag that she’d seen. Seen. Morana felt a rush of images flash through her memories. It hadn’t been her minds eye. She had really seen the room and the man and the hag!

“This isn’t the prophesised on Ghille. You know it because there isn’t the connection. Those are the facts.” The old hags voice seemed to fall on deaf ears.

“It all fits. A psychic, a twin, a child whose childhood was scarred by an irreversible action and one of the darkness brought to the light… ”

“Yes that is true. But she is not in the light. I am a Likho and a Seer Ghille Dubh. I know this girls future. She won’t be the equaliser. But you’re futures are tied.”

“Just tell me where to find the one…” Ghille Dubh stopped for a moment. He had realised she was awake. “We will speak later” he said dismissing the hag.

“Morana, it’s time for you to go home now. I understand we didn’t get off to a good start but I will make it up to you.”

Morana whimpered a little attempting to move of the bed to which she’d been replaced.

“I assume you’ll be feeding Ajax. Give him this.” Ghille Dubh handed over a small vial of a thick dark green liquid.

            Slowly blackness filled Morana’s minds eye again. She felt her body numb and slowly she realised she wasn’t laid of the comfortable bed anymore in the sheltered house of Ghille Dubh. The winds whipped around and her dust from the ground stuck to her lips and scratched her scalp. Her minds eye was empty. Her fingers ran across the floor. She recognised the dusty, jagged slates. She smelt the rotting vegetation. She breathed in the darkness, the evil. She was home.

 

It just wouldn’t quit. The bubbly, groaning sound in his stomach, accompanied with the constant pangs of pain reminded him of the fact it had been days since he’d eaten. He saw the now browning apple that he’d throw at the hag seemingly weeks ago; it was just visible from the moonlit cage. He’d attempted to reach it countless times. It might be rotting but any food was better than nothing. His nose twitched. He could smell something. There was a creak as a door opened flooding the floor with a strange candle lit orange glow.  He heard a clatter of trays and the sound of small feet padding softly on the stone steps that lead down to the dingy dungeon. The smell was fantastic! He saw the hags hunched figure clad in black and hooded as before.

A beautiful voice whispered out from under the hood, “I thought you might want something to eat by now instead of throwing it at me.”

The voice was young and fresh, although a little bitter. In her hands a wooden tray was balancing a crude bowl, cup and a small vial that rattled as she moved.  She put the tray on the floor and slipped it under the rusty iron gate.

            The sight and smell of the food made saliva fill Ajax’s mouth. In the bowl there were potatoes carrots and all kinds of other vegetables, even ones he’d never seen before, floating in a rich, yet watery sauce. He took the bowl and devoured it greedily without a moment’s hesitation. He barely tasted the stew or felt the water trickle down his throat. He practically licked the bowl clean leaving nothing but the foul green substance in the small vial. He looked at it cautiously, as if it were a snake or spider rearing to bite.

“Ajax” the rhythmical voice chimed.

He was startled. How did this hooded girl know his name? He stared for a moment then attempted to regain posture unsuccessfully. The girl removed her hood to reveal dirtied blond hair that covered most of her face and seemed to glow in the brightening moonlight. Porcelain skin like that of the girl from the well, full, pouting lips protruded just below a small angled nose. From her lips a laugh escaped momentarily. This laugh wasn’t like the sadistic beautiful laughs he’d heard from the house above it was as if the woman were still clinging onto childhood, or an inner child was escaping.

“So the strange green Ghille Dubh does know you!”

            Ghille Dubh? The name rang bells in his head. Stories from before his childhood rooted in the mythology of his people had spoken of him. The story went that he was exiled from the community, although the reasons why were varied, and became a creature of the woods. The stories had been twisted in every direction to please the audience they were being told to but the image had always remained the same. A wild, dark haired man whose moods declared the seasons. He was portrayed from shy to evil. This girl didn’t seem to be talking about a myth, she was talking as if he was a real person. Even if the original Ghille Dubh had existed, which Ajax doubted, he’d have died hundreds of years ago. Yet here he was, talking to this strange, striking, girl who claimed that the so-called myth know him! Confusion must have filled his eyes for the woman then asked

“Did I say something wrong?”

            The girl spoke with such naivety it was adorable but the voice croaked a little like a woman who has lived in silence.

“Ghille Dubh is a fairytale used to keep children from the forest.” Ajax replied coldly.

Her jaw clenched. She didn’t like being made out to be a fool.

“He said to drink that. If I were you I’d trust him. You haven’t got any other allies around here.”

Her voice was bitter again and became muffled as she turned from him and replaced her hood. Her hands now free from objects she held them out to make her feel safe even though she knew each step by heart. Ajax began to feel concern over the harshness of his words. The girl lifted and placed each bare foot carefully as if she was walking in a room with no windows or candles.

“Don’t you have eyebright?” He asked quietly, partially to himself, partially to her.

“Not since I was a child.” Her voice seemed to whisper back but he was sure she hadn’t said it.

            Ajax wasn’t sure what to make of this step forwards and his lips fell silent. The sound of breathing filled the darkened cellar.

“Don’t pity me” Morana spoke harshly breaking the silence. “I’m not a malfunction, I am not unable to cook or work or any of those things. I dare say I live a freer life than you. Even if it is dictated by the whims of my putrid sister.”

“I…I never said…” Ajax replied shocked. It was as if she had read his thoughts. She couldn’t see his expression and he hadn’t spoken what he’d thought.

“You thought it. I know you did so don’t try and deceive me. You will not succeed.”

            Unsure how to take this threat-like statement, Ajax took a different ploy to the situation at hand.

“Look I know we didn’t get off to a good start but…Maybe”

“We can start. Be friends. I can’t see that happening. You are in a cage under my house. You are only saying this so I’ll let you out. You don’t care what happens to me if I did that.”

“Listen just lets try. Tell me…” A strange sensation came over Ajax as he realised he wasn’t the one saying the words anymore. The strange girl was right up near the bars and her body had begun twitching and spasming all over.

“your name?” Ajax’s voice sounded but it came from the girl’s mouth.

“Morana.”

“I’m Ajax. And I’m married with 2 children.”

“Liar. They’re dead.”

It was like a freakish play where this odd girl was playing every part. Suddenly she snapped out of it.

“That is how the conversation will go. You will lie to try and get sympathy. I do not expect sympathy. So I will not give it to you. Your wife and children are dead. Just as many of the other corpses were but they joined them soon. You should thank my sister. You’ll be with them soon. I can’t keep you alive forever.”

Ajax grabbed her wrist and pulled her hand to his face.

“How about this. You can’t see me. But you can learn what I look like. I can’t lie then.”

            Morana’s fingers fluttered around his face building the image of the strong man in her head. She knew this was just is ploy for her to let him out, but she felt compelled, even excited, to be touch by one so fragile, so human.

“What colour are your eyes?”

“Blue” He said with a smile.

“Liar.”

“Why did you ask then? I’m sure you already knew.” 

 

Tunda flicked her fantastic hair backwards and she licked her pouting red lips.

“Choices, choices, choices!” She said aloud looking from man to beast to creatures that were hybrid, all stood in a line waiting for her verdict.

They all wanted her; she could sense it. She could hear the hearts of those who possessed them pounding. She could feel the tension in the air and she could smell the pheromones, the androstenol that emitted as sweat ran down their faces. Who could blame them? She thought to herself. She leaned against the gnarled doorway pushing her slender hips forwards and exposing her hairless pubic area. Her breasts, although perked, were heavy with dark nipples.

            She moved away from the door and moved close into each ones face breathing her fetid but fabulous scent.

“You.” She said suddenly pointing to the far end of the row.

The creature she pointed at was the least grotesque of the group. He had a pale face with dark circles under his dark beautiful brown eyes. His dirty, fair hair was swept out of his face, his sharp jaw and his sharp teeth flicked into view as he flashed a smile. He was seductive in many ways, although not in the same way as her.

“The rest of you, leave!”

The beasts seemed irritated as they left in a dishevelled manner. The seductive creature pushed Tunda against the wall and his tongue pushed it’s way into hers his hands stroked up her thigh. Tunda pushed away a little, then lead him up the stone spiral steps that lead up to the temptresses quarters.

 

Morana and Ajax’s conversation flittered through one awkward topic after another. She didn’t feel comforted by his tales nor did she feel any great connection to this man locked behind the bars, yet the stories he told of Wargs had come as such a surprise to her. The terrors this seemingly civil man had faced frightened her. The loss, the unbearable loss, seemed to overshadow what she had lost in sense. When he spoke of his deceased wife and children she felt her hand slip into his. She felt a twinge of electricity as she felt him clutch her hand and continue his stories. She knew she felt sorry for this mortal. The total numbness, which she lived her life in, touched only by feelings of anger and hatred towards her sister, made her grateful. She felt something peculiar, it was like something gnawing at her insides and choking in her throat. Morana felt sick. She snatched her hand back from Ajax’s; she knew why he was doing this. He just wanted to get away from her. She stood up and turned sharply.

“Morana? Where are you going?” Ajax’s voice called into the darkness.

“You can go. That’s the only reason you spoke to me.”

“How can I go? I’m locked in here.”

“The door is unlocked.”

Ajax was stunned. As he pushed against the door it opened with a weak rattle. His jaw dropped. He’d shaken the bars time after time, he’d kicked them and beaten his fists against it to no avail but now it just creaked open.

 

Tunda had been thrown onto the bed as the Jaud vampire undressed himself. He pushed her onto the bed and held her tight. He bit into her chest and neck and all over her body as they proceeded to have sex. Blood seeped onto the bed and the passion took over. Minutes became hours and soon the vampire was asleep in her bed and her wounds were heeling rapidly. Tunda watched his breathing for a few minutes.

“I could kill him in an instance. While he slept, oblivious to everything.” She thought aloud her fingers wandering around his effeminate neck. She got out of the bed, skyclad as always and moved over to her beautifully crafted table. She opened the second drawer and took out a small simple box that seemed out of place in the magnificent room. She flicked the lid open and grinned as she stared into the box with its blood stained silk lining.

 

Two grey eyes stared back.

 

Morana had slipped into bed weary and confused about the emotions she had felt. She had only felt that in Ghille Dubh’s house, if you could call it a house. She knew what each of the emotions was but yet she wasn’t positive she’d actually experienced them. Were they Ajax’s emotions projecting to her? She pressed her face into the cold covers and tried to charm herself to sleep. Slowly time took is toll and she slept for the remainder of the night fitfully weaving in and out of the same terrible dreams she had every night.

 

***

The wet soil was warm in between her toes. The cool breeze complimented the warm sun falling on her face. She opened her eyes. The sky was the same colour as the bluebells that kissed it. The tall grass stood around her tickling her face. She knelt down in the mud and leant over the puddle there was a smooth surface to it and it gave a perfect reflection. Morana recognised herself at once except it wasn’t the face she knew in the waking world. Her limp yellow hair was separated into smooth ringlets. Her face clean and her eyes, her beautiful blue eyes, were big and round in her positively cute child’s face.

            She felt a hand touch her shoulder in the reflection there stood another girl who too had blond ringlets, their faces matched but cold grey eyes looked down. She was spun around and as she felt the wet mud cake into her clothes and the searing pain in her face a familiar, comforting void filled her field of vision. But the calm relief didn’t last long as her head was filled with that demonic yet beautiful laugh.

***

 

Morana’s bed was damp with sweat. She needed to feel the electricity again. She needed to see Ajax. As she left her room she felt an evil presence and instinctly backed against the wall hoping she’d be ignored but it stopped in front of her. She could almost see him in her minds eye. She sensed a vast black shape towering above her and the scent of death lingering on him. She just wanted him to go away.

“Go back to your strumpet. I don’t recall you paying her.” She heard the words bitterly escape her.

She felt the hurt in the man-beast. She didn’t understand it; she’d never felt other people’s pain. Never mind one of her sister’s clients. He was hurt by her words and he longed for her sister. Morana understood now. Although the transformation from man to vampire was complete, he knew there was something missing. Humanity. This thing was trying to fill it with whatever it could. She pitied it. Her sister wouldn’t be satisfied with him for long then she’d cast him aside and he’d be worse off.

“Look I…” she attempted but the thing had already gone.

What was this feeling now? Guilt? Morana shook her head and continued her way to the holding sell. Hoping. Praying. Pleading, that he was still there. She patted down the cold stone steps and called his name out. She heard a rattle in the cage and made her way right up to the cage.

“Why did you open it for me?! I still can’t leave every time I try and step out of the cage. I see the floor come to me and then I wake up back in here. You cursed me you hag!” Ajax’s hands grabbed her through them and held her by her neck. She choked as he held her windpipe tight.

“Stop it. You’re hurting me!” She gasped

Suddenly Ajax’s grip loosened, horrified at what he’d just done he wailed to the sky far above him then sank to the floor.

“Morana? Morana, please don’t fear me. I’m sorry.” He pleaded.

Morana wasn’t afraid. She went up close to the bars and took his hand again. He pulled her in close and rested his head against hers for a few minutes and then, without warning, he pressed his lips against hers. Morana felt dizzy, scared and excited all at once. She tried to wretch away but he had a tight grip on her slowly she relaxed as his tongue ventured slowly into her mouth, then he pulled away and stroked her face. Morana smiled for a moment before she realised what he was doing. His fingers gentle brushed her blond hair from her face. She tried to pull away but it was too late. A scream filled the air she heard him scuttle to the far side of the cage.

“Ajax? What? Please…” She panicked.

“Just…Just leave me alone” He babbled.

 

Morana flew up the stairs. She couldn’t live like this anymore. She didn’t fear her sister. She wasn’t a child anymore. Those possessed laughs and threats meant nothing. What more could she do to her? She knew why Tunda had done it. They were apparently identical twins but their eyes told different stories. In the forests wanderers had always felt Tunda’s presence. Then, when they saw the coldness in her eyes they ran. They knew something evil was dwelling within that child’s heart but Morana had been different. Her eyes told a story of intellect and beauty. Her eyes were her magic. She had been magic. Over the years she’d learnt new magic but none like the natural one she’d possessed before. She’d kept it in all these years. The taunts, the patronisation, the threats, they had all amounted to this. This dawn would bring the beginnings of a new reign. Stopping by her room briefly before she made her way to her sister’s grand room. She could hear Tunda’s deep breathing. Good, she was asleep; she didn’t need to feel this. Like a cat Morana stalked silently to her sisters bed and sat on the edge trying to move it as little as possible but she heard stirring already.

“Tunda, wakey wakey. The sun has come up.”

“What are you…?” Screaming interrupted Tunda’s sentence but she hardly recognised it as her own.

            Morana held her down by the throat and with a sharp pointed stick, the very same one; she began to gouge out the brilliant blue eyes.

“Stop it, Morana! I’ll do anything. Anything.”

But Morana blocked it out and continued her work. Finally, she had the two beautiful eyes in her hands and she held them like gemstones as her sister’s screams became louder, she hardly noticed, they were just echo’s from a far off place. She pushed the eyes into her empty sockets and image flooded her brain.

“Please, fetch me my eyes Morana.”

Morana took the small box from the drawer. Opened the dainty box and stabbed each eye with the knife, splitting them clean in half. Tunda’s wails filled the forests. She grasped at Morana’s clothes begging and pleading for the sense back.

“I’m sorry sister but this is the end of the path for us and the beginning for me.”

With one quick movement Morana slashed at Tunda’s throat severing the major artery and blood spurted all over the walls. It was a beautiful scarlet that, as the last bits began to drain from Tunda’s body, turned black as night. She was dead in seconds.

“You can keep a secret can’t you sis?” Morana whispered to her sister’s corpse. “I’m in love, I think, but you can’t tell anyone. Not that you can tell, I think that’s the best thing about you being dead …” her voice trailed off, frightened at how sadistic she sounded.

            Ajax. She needed to show him her real eyes not the evil he’d witnessed before. The true beauty of what she had been and was again. She ran stimulated by all the sights she’d forgotten since she was a child. She looked at the sky outside the window. It was orange and yellow and stained red. The smells seemed more fragrant now she could look out and see the wildflowers filling the woods.

            Once more her feet patted down the stone stairs into the basement

“AJAX!” She shouted at the hunched figure in the cell. “Please just look at me again. I can stop the things you saw please look at me.”

The hunched figure didn’t move. She wretched open the door but still no movement. She placed her hand on his shoulder and the hunched figure fell to the floor. Morana only just realised the blood on the floor. His breathing was very shallow she lay his head on her knees and studied him looking for injury. Across both his wrists were deep cuts where blood still bubbled. It was too late and Morana knew it. She studied his hansom face. His downy, brown hair and hazel eyes staring onwards. The scars that he bore by no means made him less attractive. Morana pressed her lips against his for his last breath.

            After feeling his last breath die on her lips she let out a scream. Within moments the strange Ghille Dubh had placed both his hands with their long fingers on her shoulders. She stared up at him.

“You planned this.” She said numbly

“No. This was your fate. I didn’t know Ajax would die. I didn’t know you would kill your sister but I do know what you need to do now. You are Vesna now. The messenger. The Bozaloshtsh.”

Ghille leant down towards her ear and whispered as if even the trees above the well were trying to listen into his words. He negotiated and instructed Morana, now named Vesna, in the task at hand. Solemnly she nodded at the deal. Ghille Dubh clutched her hand momentarily then she motioned him to leave.

 

She kissed the corpse of her newly found lover again then sobbed a little but slowly the sobs turned into wails which in turn turned into a blood curdling, heart freezing screaming screech that echoed off the circular walls and filled the forests.  That echoed around the mountains funnelling down into valleys and ringing through the rotting village of Leszek.