Where the Devil Says Goodnight

by K. A. Merikan

  They exchanged a few more words, but he was glad to put down the phone. Mrs. Janina entered before he could have recuperated. And her gaze told him from the get-go that she’d eavesdropped.

  “I didn’t want to be nosy, but I might have overheard you talking about Forefathers’ Eve,” she said and placed a tray with warm cookies and tea on the table in front of Adam.

  He was too tired to brush her off efficiently enough and shrugged. “She mentioned it.”

  “Is something troubling you? I have a grandson only slightly younger than you. You can talk to me.”

  Adam’s gaze settled on the stack of cookies, which at this point didn’t even seem appetizing. What was the point of eating something delicious when nothing could bring him any joy right now?

  “It’s complicated.”

  “All things seem complicated until they’re easy,” she said, and it sounded like ‘don’t worry, it will be okay’. Exactly the kind of empty words that never helped anyone.

  Adam let out a laugh and met her gaze. Her inquisitive eyes kept watching him, searching for any clues. He swallowed. “You wouldn’t believe me anyway. It’s a crazy thing.”

  Mrs. Janina sat down at the other side of the table. “I’ve been alive for a long time. I’ve seen things.”

  “What kind of things?” he asked softly and picked up one of the cookies. Its sugary scent, with just a hint of lemon, reminded him of Christmas in a way so visceral he at once missed home.

  “Here in the mountains… shadows are longer in the winter, and the old gods, they like to play tricks on good Catholic people.”

  “That’s why you leave out offerings in the corners?” Adam asked, watching her with a heat spreading through his body. He couldn’t confide in Father Marek without consequence, regardless of how laid back the pastor was about most things. But maybe Mrs. Janina would offer him some insight into what was going on here?

  She nodded. “Keeps the devil at bay.”

  “What if the devil is already here?” Adam whispered, and the chair seemed to suck him in, immobilizing his arms and legs.

  Mrs. Janina didn’t laugh, didn’t chastise him for what he said. She only gave him a curious glance. “How so? Have you seen something?”

  Relief was a flood through Adam’s chest, and he clutched at the armrests, watching her with his breath held back. “You need to promise you won’t tell anyone.”

  “Anything you say, Father, will be confidential.” For once, she looked concerned, not just curious.

  Adam stalled, not sure whether he should trust her, but for all her usual grumpiness, Mrs. Janina had never treated him unfairly. There was a good heart behind a face wrinkled from frequent scowling, and he so, so desperately needed advice.

  “Strange things started happening when I arrived here,” he said in the end, keeping her gaze to spot the moment she showed signs of displeasure. “The sound of hooves would follow me at night. I’d sleepwalk and wake up in the middle of the woods. I even had—” The final words were trapped in his throat, and he swallowed, shaking his head.

  “You felt a presence inside you?” Mrs. Janina asked, and her question made Adam’s body hair bristle. He blinked, unsure if the person saying such outrageous things was really Mrs. Janina, the humble housekeeper at the parsonage. But it was her. She was listening. And she wasn’t surprised by anything he’d said.

  He slumped forward, as his lungs released all the air they were holding. “Yes.”

  “These things happen.” She reached out and squeezed his hand. “Especially with the kind of company you’ve been keeping, Father. I mean it in the nicest possible way. I know I’ve often said unkind things about Emil, but his grandmother was a Whisperer Woman. I believe he carries it in his bloodline. He might have brought a curse upon you. Even unknowingly.”

  Nausea rose in Adam’s throat, and he put back the half-eaten cookie. “Oh, God…”

  There it was. The hard truth about the happiest summer of his life. He’d decided to follow temptation instead of keeping to his chosen path, and he’d been punished for it.

  Mrs. Janina held on to his hand a bit more tightly. “There are things one can do to get rid of Chort. Things Father Marek wouldn’t approve of. On Forefathers’ Eve the world of spirits is close, but that also means tonight is the time to act.”

  Adam laughed, but her face was as serious as ever, and his stomach sank. As Adam’s gaze gravitated to the cross on the wall, his mind fought the sense that by following Mrs. Janina’s advice he would be somehow adding legitimacy to pagan rituals, and even to the creature taunting him. He had two choices.

  The most obvious one was to be frank with Father Marek and face the painful consequences. But the other, while tempting, might put more distance between him and the truths he’d been taught since childhood. Granted, he’d never been as much of a zealot as his mother was. Perhaps his faith was too weak to carry the burden of priesthood, but if Mrs. Janina was right, if this monster could be lured back into the dark woods it came from, then he’d be free of both its presence and the scrutiny of the Church.

  He would leave this godforsaken place with a pure soul even if with a broken heart as well.

  Adam took a deep breath. “What do I need to do?”

  Chapter 23 - Emil

  Of course it was raining. That was just Emil’s luck. But what was getting soaked when his had house burned down along with the infusions he’d been making for months? What did those even matter now? The one reason for all that investment and hard work had been to earn money for a move to Warsaw, but that plan made no sense anymore, since Adam didn’t want him there.

  Didn’t want him at all.

  The clear sky had disappeared behind the thick bed of clouds, and the downpour transformed everything around Emil into thick gray walls he couldn’t see through. Trees were reduced to blurry silhouettes emerging from the thickening fog, and the bitterly cold air stabbed Emil’s soaked flesh with invisible spikes.

  Still, he nudged Jinx with his heels, intent on not wasting any more time on the village and people who had only brought him misery. Adam had been a ray of hope, the outsider who had no prejudice against him, but for all the joy his presence had given Emil, the fallout from their relationship left him empty.

  He no longer saw light at the end of the dark tunnel of his life, but he would still leave. If he was destined for a life of misery, he would at least suffer out of Dybukowo. Away from the man who had broken him. The tragedies Emil had to endure had bent his will, but it was Adam’s mistrust and accusations that had finally proven to be unbearable.

  Cold, wet clothes clung to Emil’s body as he continued down the side of the road while the thunder rumbled above. The naked trees danced, and when lightning bolts tore through the sky, setting the clouds alight, Emil looked up, letting the raindrops sink into his face and wash off the sorrow he hadn’t been able to express in front of Adam.

  He couldn’t get any wetter at this point, so there was no point in seeking shelter. He would endure this night like he’d endured so many others, but his suffering meant nothing in the grand scheme of things. Nothing awaited him out of Dybukowo either. All he knew was that he loathed the idea of staying where people pitied or despised him. Of staying where his heart had broken into so many pieces he was sure he’d never be able to put it back together.

  There was only one asphalt road leading out of the valley. It wound between the picturesque hills before descending into the nearby village of Palki, and while rain toyed with Emil’s senses, he did have the vague idea he was getting closer to the narrow mouth between the hills. He tried to ignore the milky fog rolling down the slopes until it seemed nearby trees and bushes emerged from foam. But once he’d leave the natural gateway behind, the expanse of the wave-like hills would take him someplace where nobody held any prejudice against him. He wouldn’t be happy but maybe, at least, free.

  The road was a dark streak that drowned in nothingness just a few paces ahead, so Emil strayed to the s
ide, riding Jinx along the forest expanse. Crows still followed him, and as their caws grew in volume high above, he wondered if they’d even let him leave, or if they were intent on picking at his flesh like they had on Mrs. Zofia’s or Piotr’s.

  His heart pounded faster as the buzz of the rain gained intensity. He’d never been one to fear darkness, but he hadn’t believed in magic either. Who knew what really hid deep in the night, so far away from any lights? For a while, the chance to discover something special at Adam’s side had seemed real, but he’d been tossed away, just like the other things Adam wanted to forget.

  He thought back to the pretty blue eyes staring back at him with so much intensity as they fucked, and couldn’t help the sorrow wrapping around his chest and squeezing so hard breathing became impossible. He would never love anyone the way he loved Adam, and life would torture him with it forever.

  There had been no shortage of romantic disappointments in his past. Those who left, those who never treated him seriously, those who rejected him because he didn’t fit into their lifestyle, but none of those breakups hurt quite as much as the way Adam had played him.

  After hooking him with a mixture of vulnerability and curiosity Emil had found endearing, Adam had had him at his beck and call, and Emil, like the fool he was, always returned to Adam’s side, no matter how unfairly he’d been treated. He’d been a dog to a confusing master, who’d offer him praise and a place to curl up at his feet, just to throw him out into the rain.

  At his age, he should have learned to have more dignity, but it was becoming painfully clear now that on an emotional level he’d remained that stupid teenager who’d fallen in love with a tourist and imagined the guy would change all his life plans for him. So that didn’t happen.

  He was so deep in the dark well of his thoughts, only the deafening honking ahead managed to snap him out of it. A truck headed straight at him, emerging out of the rain and fog like a ghost ship in the middle of a storm. Emil barely had the chance to gasp as he trusted his instincts and forced his frightened horse into the bushes at the side of the road.

  Jinx’s entire body tensed when his hindquarters dipped, and he reared so rapidly Emil’s world spun around. The white truck rushed past them, and the gust of wind it sent their way was the last push needed to shove Emil out of the saddle.

  He gave a choked cry, swallowing the foggy air as he made a somersault before dropping into a cushion full of spikes. The bush had needles that pierced his damp clothes and clawed their way along his flesh, but as he tried to make himself stand up, one of his feet slipped, and he dropped face first into a puddle. He chose the moment of impact to voice his shock, and his teeth closed on mud.

  “Fuck!” he yelled into the stormy void as soon as he rose, making squelching noises while he unsucked his limbs from the thick slime, but he wouldn’t give up.

  He’d leave Dybukowo if it killed him.

  Jinx ran back to the asphalt, and when lightning brightened up the gloomy night, his eyes flashed like two beacons, spooking Emil, even though the two of them had been friends for years.

  “Come on, Jinx. It’s fine. Let’s go.”

  Though it wasn’t fine. Something in his ankle had cracked and while he ignored the pain, he was sure he might have to visit an emergency room sometime in the future. Tonight, he’d focus on finding shelter and resting, but he was still far too close to Dybukowo for his liking. Maybe he should ride all the way to the nearest hospital and sleep there? That did sound like a decent enough idea.

  Thunder rolled over his head, and when three lightning bolts spread their branches over the landscape, the rain gained in ferocity, as if the electrical power somehow cut the sky open, releasing more water.

  Emil spat out more of the dirt he’d bitten into and opened his mouth wide, gathering some of the droplets to cleanse his mouth from the clay-like flavor. He no longer cared about his clothes getting wet, because they’d soaked all the way through and felt like the embrace of an ice monster who had come to inform Emil of the approaching winter.

  Jinx huffed, watching Emil from just a couple of paces away, but Emil gave himself a moment to look back toward the hills he could no longer see in the foggy darkness. Maybe this was for the better. His hopes had been trampled over, but at least he didn’t have to experience the disappointment of Adam rejecting him later on, once Emil allowed his dreams of a lasting relationship and a new beginning to flourish. In a way, maybe he should be grateful to that pig Koterski for cutting his suffering short.

  “Jinx. Don’t make this harder. It’s just you and me now.”

  Emil approached the black beast, but Jinx backed away at the same pace, as if they were playing a game. The thought that his horse could be possessed too was an unwelcome one and sent shivers down his spine. He still remembered granddad’s stories about Forefathers’ Eve, about ghosts of ancestors being close on that night. They used to always close all their shutters and stay indoors. Back then, Emil had considered it their little tradition. They’d sit in candlelight and play cards while reminiscing about Grandma or his parents.

  Being out on a night like this, on his own, gave Emil the chills even so many years on, but while he could have dismissed them as irrational before, his newfound knowledge of the paranormal cast a new light on the sense of being watched from somewhere in the fog-covered woods.

  Especially tonight.

  Emil’s mount took one step back for every single one Emil took toward him, and the sense of eeriness it created prompted Emil to dash toward his horse.

  White light descended between them in a flash, evaporating the rain and hitting a small tree on the edge of the woods. Emil stopped breathing when its slim trunk broke in two, creating a Y-shaped symbol engulfed by flames.

  He stumbled back, shocked by the proximity of the lightning bolt. He could swear some of his hair stood up from the closeness of death, but Jinx stilled, his black eyes watching Emil from between the burning arms of the broken tree.

  The rumble of an engine approaching made Emil leap toward the horse, and he managed to grab the reins at last. “Come over here, you idiot!” He pulled Jinx to the side by force, barely making room for the approaching car. What the hell was this kind of traffic on a country road, the day before All Saints’?

  But instead of passing and dashing for the mouth of the valley, the car stopped, and Emil frowned when he recognized Nowak behind the wheel. For a while, they just stared at one other. Emil soaked, muddy and a heap of misery, Nowak tucked inside his warm, dry Range Rover.

  After a few seconds, the window on Nowak’s side rolled down, and his round face emerged from the shadow. “Bad night? I couldn’t believe it when I heard you took the horse out for a ride in weather like this.”

  “Why do you care?” Emil growled, shaking his head.

  “I know we were never friends, but I do feel sorry for you. Come on, let’s take Jinx home, or he’ll get ill.”

  Emil clenched his fists. “I no longer have a home in Dybukowo.”

  The village head exhaled. “Come on, Emil. You can sleep in my guest room tonight.”

  “No, thanks. I’m leaving. You don’t have to worry about me.” Only pride allowed him to mount Jinx gracefully, because his ankle hurt more with every passing minute.

  “The investigation into the fire at your property hasn’t concluded, and as a head of this village, I can’t just let you leave while it’s still ongoing. Do yourself a favor and turn back.”

  Emil held his head high despite the mud stains on his clothes and urged the horse forward. He wouldn’t be pulled back into Nowak’s problems. He didn’t care. He could live in the woods somewhere, become a ghost, and never have to interact with anyone again.

  “I’m talking to you!” Nowak yelled, and Emil couldn’t help the inkling of satisfaction when he heard a car door slam shut because it meant Nowak would get wet too.

  What he didn’t expect though was a pull on his leg so strong it almost yanked him out of the saddle.

&
nbsp; “Fuck off!” Emil yelled at Nowak, struggling to shed the hold of meaty hands. The bald top of Nowak’s head was a prime target, but Emil couldn’t make himself punch it, so he kicked Nowak’s arm instead.

  Jinx whinnied and strutted sideways, attempting to evade the man, who stubbornly followed with his face twisted into a scowl. “Emil, don’t be stupid!”

  “Or what? You gonna call the police on me?”

  Nowak charged at Emil, and this time, he grabbed the back of Emil’s jacket, tugging so hard Emil lost balance. He scrambled to grab the saddle, but his wet fingers slipped, and he slid off the horse, only barely missing another dunk in the mud when Nowak stepped back.

  That was it. Any man had limits to his patience, and Emil had just reached his. He charged at Nowak and punched the bastard straight in the face.

  The round head bounced back, and Nowak’s stocky body went down, splashing dirty water as he landed in a puddle. Emil was so shocked by the ease with which he managed to knock down his opponent he took his time staring as Nowak scrambled to his feet in the ill-fitting brown suit that now clung to his body.

  “You’re going to regret this, you punk!”

  Emil laughed out loud and spread his arms. “What can you possibly do to me? Kill me? I really don’t have much left to lose, you cunt. I’m not gonna be stuck in Dybukowo all my life because you, for some reason, care about a fire investigation. It’s none of your business. You’re not the police, and you’re not the fire service!”

  Nowak stilled, standing in a hunched position with both hands resting at the tops of his thighs. His form kept expanding and shrinking as he tried to catch his breath, but at least he wasn’t speaking anymore. Emil shook his head and, expecting no more resistance, approached his horse. He was about to mount when Nowak spoke.

  “Wait. There’s something else.”

  Emil chased off a crow that tried to land on his arm. “What? What else could possibly be a problem?”