by Sara Clancy
“So,” Radu asked. “Does any of this have to do with ghosts?”
Mihail looked to Abe before answering, “We think so."
“Possibly a demon,” Abe added.
“Demons are real?” Radu asked.
Mihail offered him a sympathetic smile. It felt like he should know what to say, given that he had recently been in his position, but his mind was a blank.
Radu mindfully munched on a mouthful before shrugging one shoulder. “Yeah, that makes a lot of sense.” He clicked his tongue. “Well, who’s going to catch me up? What needs fixing?”
“Excuse me?” Mihail asked.
“You guys called me.”
“This isn’t your fight,” Abe said. “We can handle it. We just need some information.”
“You're picking him for back up over me? Him? No offence."
“It’s fine,” Mihail murmured.
“I don’t do well on the sidelines, Abe. If you want me to feed you classified information, I'm going to be in the starting lineup. Sound fair?”
Abe sucked on his tooth. His silence made Radu lean back and fan his arms out wide.
“Oh, I'm sorry, did I miss all of your other options on my way in here?”
“I’m a damn medium. You’ll always miss my options,” Abe scoffed.
Radu laugh. “Yeah, I’ve got a list of questions about how you exist. But, that’s for later. Now, however, someone needs to get me caught up.”
He lifted one, dark brow in challenge and, eventually, got his way. Mihail sunk back in his seat as Abe started to lay out the story. His words were precise, his tone exact, and his information carefully edited. Mihail’s heart still lodged in his throat while he nervously waited for the moment to come. When Abe would mention the deaths, the murders, the bloodshed. For him to confess that Mihail's grandfather's remains were tucked away below the castle. But while Abe grew close, he dodged the most revealing facts. Still, the skin around Radu’s eyes would tense every so often. He knows, Mihail thought. He doesn’t know what’s wrong, but he knows something is off. How long will it take him to figure it out?
When Abe reached the most current events, Radu took a deep breath.
“So, that’s everything?” Radu pressed.
The stern tone didn’t put Abe off in the slightest. If anything, it seemed to amuse him. “Everything I'm at liberty to divulge.”
“For the record, I know you're holding something big back."
“I’ve gotta keep some mystery,” Abe said smirked. “Your turn.”
Radu took the time to eat a few more handfuls of food before answering. “I ran around to the other stations when you contacted me. Yeah, I was always planning to tell you. You're the one that went and made this a negotiation. Keep that in mind. Agreeing with me makes your life easier.” He sipped from his mug like it was a victory, relishing in Abe's growl. “From what I could gather, the call came in a few hours before when you said things went down.”
“Who made the call?” Mihail asked quickly.
Radu shrugged. “You.”
“It wasn’t me,” Mihail snapped. “I didn’t do that, I swear!”
Abe lifted his hand. “Breathe. Everyone here believes you.”
“How about, for now, I just call this guy the doppelganger?” Radu said. “Saves confusion.”
Knowing that he was being pandered to didn't stop Mihail from relaxing at the offer. “Yes, thank you. I’m having a little identity crisis at the moment.”
Radu reached over and patted his shoulder. “No problem, little guy.”
“Not entirely sold on the nickname,” he muttered.
Abe rested his forearms against the table top. “Do you have a transcript of that call?”
“You have to know that I can’t give you that,” Radu said.
“Can ya give me the Cliff Notes?”
Radu puffed out his cheeks, his fingers drumming against both of the chairs.
“Basically, that pretty boy committed identity theft. Mostly to get his hands on the Vaduva fortune.”
“Mihail’s hidden his portion.”
Radu smiled down at the table. “I didn’t hear that.”
“It’s barely a fraction of what Draciana is worth,” Abe said.
“Yeah, how does she have all that money anyway? She’s a recluse. Always has been.”
They both turned to Mihail. It took him a second to realize that they were both waiting for him to answer.
“Oh, um, I think she inherited from my grandfather.”
Radu’s brow knitted. “Mihail Lungu?”
“Wouldn’t he be a Vaduva?” Abe asked.
“No, he took her last name,” Radu said.
“How do you know so much about my family?” Mihail cut in.
“There are no secrets in the valley,” Radu shrugged. “According to my Bunica, her whole relationship was pretty much their version of trash TV.”
Mihail leaned closer. “I’ve only ever heard that they were the perfect couple. Hopelessly in love.”
His stomach sank as Radu barked a surprised laugh. She never stayed in that house for him. The realization clicked in a way he had been trying so hard to prevent. He knew it was true. She had said as much when she confessed to the curse. But he had never let himself believe that she had lied to him about loving his grandfather. She lied about that. She lied about everything. She lied.
“You okay there, Mihail?” Radu asked.
“He just needs a second,” Abe said. “Let’s get back to this doppelganger.”
Mihail snapped his hand out and clutched Radu’s arm, startling both men.
She lied. She lied. She lied.
“No,” Mihail said. “Tell me about my grandmother.”
Chapter 7
Mihail clutched the fresh cup of tea Abe presented him. He didn’t want it and hadn't asked for it, but the warmth was comforting, and having something to grip allowed him to feel anchored to the reality of the moment. It was another sign of how well Abe had learned to handle his weaknesses, and of how little Mihail knew himself. All sense of humor had fled from Radu’s face at the change of subject. That, more than anything else, had warned Mihail that nothing good lay ahead. But he had to hear it. He craved the truth as if it were a missing limb.
“Before we start, I feel like I should remind everyone that these are only rumors. None of this would stand up in court.”
“Just tell me.” Catching the edge of hysteria in his voice, Mihail took a deep breath and tightened the grip on his mug. “Draciana has done nothing but lie to me. And my parents are horrible at communication. They didn’t even see fit to warn me that Castle Vaduva is haunted. I just …” Swallowing around the thick lump forming in his throat, he forced out the words, “I need, just once, to hear the truth, no matter how ugly it is.”
Radu watched him for a moment. “You have one messed up family dynamic.”
“I’m starting to see that. Well, I’m starting to admit it to myself.”
“Okay,” Radu patted Mihail’s shoulder quickly before beginning. “Now, to understand why people cared about Draciana and Mihail Senior's relationship, you have to understand the reputation Draciana had long before they met.”
Mihail watched as Radu glanced to Abe, seeking permission to keep going. Instead of being annoyed by this, Mihail found himself relieved, and that surprised him. When did I start using Abe as a security blanket? Mihail thought. How long have I been hiding behind him?
“Draciana was housed at an orphanage one town over. There were a few unpleasant occurrences during her time there.”
Mihail flinched at the forced pleasantness. But before he could protest it, Radu continued with a slight chuckle.
“That’s kind of our local slang for murder. We have a colorful dialect. From what I heard, Draciana was responsible for a few deaths, but it couldn’t be proven.”
“Two women and a child,” Mihail said numbly. “Some ghosts showed me that.”
“Okay, I have follow-up qu
estions, but we’ll deal with your thing first,” Radu said. “There were more than three.”
Mihail snapped his head up and looked at Abe. He didn't have to ask.
“If I’ve spoken to any of those victims, they haven’t been direct about it,” he assured.
Mihail nodded and braced himself. “What were the rumors?”
“I think your ghost friends told you about the first set,” Radu said gently. “Three people in an oven?”
This time, Mihail could only nod, unable to speak past the lump that was threatening to choke him.
“Right, well, it didn’t stop with them. It became a trend. Anyone who crossed her ended up injured, normally under strange circumstances. Others, weren’t so lucky.”
“They died.”
“Yeah,” Radu said. “And again, in bizarre ways.”
“I need an example,” Mihail said. “I need to hear examples.”
“Okay, I can do that. Let me just think for a second, it's been a while since my
grand-parents told me about this. Oh, um, one girl drowned in a puddle. The ground around her was muddy but completely undisturbed. And she wasn’t a toddler.”
Mihail stared at the amber liquid in his mug. “Could it have been suicide? I can’t image these places fostered good mental health.”
“Not a chance. See, even when your mind makes the choice, your body is never on board. It will struggle to keep alive. It’s a natural, irrepressible instinct. Even if she was unconscious, she still would have thrashed or squirmed. According to the stories, there was nothing but her footprints.”
“Okay,” Mihail said as his mind screamed in revolt. He didn’t want to hear this. He didn’t want to know. “I need another example. Please.”
“One kid fell to his death just outside the back door, which is odd because all the windows had bars. No one could figure out where he came from. It was like something just lifted him up and dropped him.”
The contents of the mug burned Mihail's fingers as he tightened his grip to the point of pain.
“Another. Please.”
“Well, there’s one that stuck with me, about two caretakers who were mauled by a wolf.”
“That's not exactly odd,” Abe said. “Wolves are plentiful around here.”
“Sure. But this wolf can walk on two legs and unlock doors. A dozen of the kids testified that they saw it. They claimed it was a werewolf.”
Mihail turned to him. “Why would Draciana be blamed for a werewolf attack?”
“Oh, right, you're not local.”
“I was born in Castle Vaduva,” Mihail corrected before he understood the meaning. “But I was sent away while I was young.”
“Right, well, in these parts, werewolves aren’t believed to be autonomous. They’re always under instruction. The hitman, not the mastermind.”
“They knew she was a witch.”
Mihail studied both of their faces, trying to see if they were kidding. “But she was only a child at the time.”
“That doesn't matter as much as ya think,” Abe said.
“We generally see being a witch as a genetic trait,” Radu said. “It was just assumed that one of her parents had been one.”
Mihail swallowed as the bile rose in his throat. “Okay. So, in total, how much destruction was she blamed for?”
“Countless injuries. Maybe eight to fifteen deaths, depending on who you talk to.”
The numbers rolled in Mihail's head, eroding his thoughts and leaving him numb. “And that was all before she left the orphanage?”
“Yes,” Radu said.
“But that’s not the end of the story?”
“No.”
“Please continue.”
Again, Radu looked to Abe, and again the other man nodded. “One of the things you have to understand is that, in the valley, the label ‘witch’ still carries a lot of weight; you have that and you’re a social pariah. It left her few options for making a living. In the end, the Lungus were the only ones who would take her in. Their family fortune had plummeted after the war along with their social standing, and Mother Lungu was longing to feel that she was still superior to someone. Preferably, someone she could treat like trash. Draciana was the only one desperate enough to be their maid.”
“She was a maid? No one’s ever mentioned that.” His own words made him laugh. “Like anyone ever mentioned anything to me.”
“Do you need a break?” Abe asked.
Mihail shook his head, “We haven’t even gotten to the main story. I’m guessing that grandpa and Bunica met while she was working for Mother Lungu?”
Radu looked confused for a second. “Oh, right, you’re American. Well, around here, we don’t really leave home unless we get married. We’ll have three generations and extended family all under the same roof. As a live-in maid, Draciana had a small space in the main house. And, well, rumor has it that it didn’t take long for Draciana and Mihail Senior to start getting along.”
“They fell in love.”
“That’s not exactly what people called it,” Radu smirked on reflex before remembering who he was talking to. “Their interactions were purely physical. Nothing that would lead to marriage.”
“But they were married,” Abe said.
Please, just let this one fact be true. Let me know something about my family.
“Yeah, they were. But that was what had everyone reaching for their rosaries. See, they were toxic. Their entire relationship was centered around control, jealousy, and tormenting each other to feed their own egos. Both of them were only happy if the other one was miserable.”
Mihail balked at that. It was so far removed from everything he had ever known. But he kept his mouth shut and thought back, trying to pinpoint the reasons why he had believed that they were happy. There was very little to go on. Barely more than Draciana's passing comments. It’s a fantasy, he realized, with an icy chill. A childish story I told myself. A loving family. What a joke.
“Then, one day, Mihail Senior found someone new. A nice girl that he intended to marry. Losing him meant that Draciana would also be unemployed and homeless. She played her usual mind games, but this time, he didn't take her back. He was set on marrying a ‘respectable’ woman.”
“What changed?” Mihail asked.
“Popular opinion? A spell. One day, Mihail Senior and Draciana were having screaming matches in the middle of the town, and he was setting her stuff on fire. The next, he was a love-sick puppy following her around, giving her whatever she wanted. Even his family disinheriting him didn’t stop him.”
“I don't understand. If he was disinherited and she was impoverished, where did our money come from?”
Abe closed his eyes, a deep growl rumbling within his chest. His attempts to control his temper didn’t stop him from slamming his fist against the tabletop.
“You know, it would be easier for us to follow what you’re thinking if you use words,” Radu said.
“The souls in the foyer,” Abe hissed through his teeth.
Mihail rushed to explain, “The castle has a large foyer. Abe has seen ghosts there.”
“I see ghosts everywhere in that place,” Abe hissed. “The ones in the foyer are stripped naked, sewn together, hung up on the walls like a tapestry. They can’t move. Can’t speak. Can only watch.”
Radu turned to Mihail. “You live in that place?”
As Mihail stammered, searching desperately for a response, Abe continued, “That doesn’t matter. The point is that I’ve been stupid. Here I’ve been thinkin’ that your granny inherited that horror show. She built it.”
Finally opening his eyes, Abe quickly noticed that they weren’t following.
“Crossroad demons. You can make deals with them. For fame, fortune, love, revenge, a castle in the mountains.”
“She sold her soul?” Mihail said.
“I think she sold more than hers. Think of human souls as a currency. Everything ya want has a price tag. If ya want something big, ya nee
d more souls.” He looked at both of them before banging his hand on the table again. “Ok, you guys settle in. I'm about to give ya a crash course in demonology.”
Mihail began to slowly spin the cup between his hands, hoping that the repetitive motion would keep his mind from closing down.
“Demons are like cults. They're seductive,” Abe began. “These things don’t just pop up one day and say, ‘Hey, I'm a demonic being, ya wanna give me ya soul?’ They start slow. Easy requests. Mindless tasks. Repeating some empty words. Little things that seem like nothin’ but get their victims into the habit of saying yes. Sure, I’ll take care of your bullies, but ya have to let me stay in your doll. Ya seem hungry. Sacrifice a rat to me and I'll give ya a feast. They make sure that the rewards they offer always seem to outweigh the costs. But they always ask for a little more. The thing is, it's pretty easy to get someone to dip a toe into immoral waters. But the moment ya get one in, the next one doesn't seem like such a big deal. I think Draciana was drowning before she even left that orphanage.”
“I don’t understand. She was a child. How can children sell their souls?” Mihail asked.
“It’s grooming. Like a pedophile earning a child’s trust early to abuse them later. Demons are patient."
Radu lifted his hand like a student seeking the teacher's attention. “So, she’s not a witch?”
“Nah, she is. I’m guessing that the demon taught her. It’s a pretty effective way to get her to damn herself while letting her think that she was in control.”
“Question,” Radu said as he raised his hand again. “If she wasn’t a witch, to begin with, how did she summon a demon?”
“I’d like to know that, too,” Mihail said.
“I wouldn’t think it’s much of a mystery. Two things draw them in; traumatic situations and folks willing to do anything to change their lot. Draciana would have been perfect.”
“Yeah, I don’t know if I buy it,” Radu said. “She was born and raised in the valley, so we can safely assume that she would have heard the cautionary tales. And she survived the Nazi purge of Romani. So, we know she’s not dumb.”
