Toska (Dark World Saga Book 1)

Home > Fantasy > Toska (Dark World Saga Book 1) > Page 24
Toska (Dark World Saga Book 1) Page 24

by A. R. Kingston


  Epilogue

  I

  still recall the day we got here. The ride down was long and rough; we felt every single bump as the truck we were in bounced down a dirt country road. All three of us were thankful when it finally slowed down to a halt, dropping us off at a small dairy farm in town. There was not a single soul in sight that night, just a black Moskvich which was waiting for us by an old barn.

  Vasily insisted on driving us so we could get the layout of the land. Not wishing to argue, Victor and I sat in the back as he drove down the dark country road with the truck driver following in a separate car behind us. In the front passenger seat, Matroskin sat and twisted his head about at anything that caught his interest.

  After a short drive to the outskirts of town, far from its few local residents, we pulled up a dirt drive to a wooden house straight out of the storybooks. The gorgeous three-story wood structure had a red roof, and the intricate carved details which reminded me of the look papa had tried to recreate with our own house. I’m sure he would have loved this house as much as I did, I could not wait to go in and see what the inside looked like, but I still wanted to check out our surroundings.

  For the most part, we were surrounded by woods, a field large enough for some cattle sat behind the house. At the very back I could make out traces of an old barn, the smell of cows wafted from that direction. Above me, the night sky sparked with the millions of stars lighting earth below, and a happy owl hooted in the distance. My eyes lit up at the prospect of living in such a lovely place, and I could finally feel my heart lighten, all the worry melting away with the possibility of living the life I had always dreamed of.

  “Is…is this our new home?”

  “Yes.” Vasily nodded handing me the keys to the car and the house “The Order has kept ownership of the Polyashov house for far too long, I’m glad we can finally put it to good use. The inside has been set up for you, if you need anything, there are a few agents in town, just ask Matroskin, and he will relay them the info.”

  “I will.” I grasp Vasily's hands, my heart filled with joy. “Thank you, for everything.”

  “It was my pleasure, that is what we are here for, making sure the natural and supernatural can coexist in peace. I’ll be checking in on you from time to time, keep the boys out of trouble for me.” He glanced over at Matroskin who returned his jest with a scowl causing Vasily to chuckle. “Best of luck to you, we’ll let you know if your services are required.”

  With a wave of his hand, Vasily turned his back to us and got into the waiting car. Pulling back out, the car turned, driving away back into the distance. Beside me, Victor and Matroskin were looking up at the house in awe; there was no doubt the place was large enough to accommodate the three of us comfortably. It was certainly large enough to keep us from encroaching on each other’s privacy, but what was I going to do with a house this big?

  “Blyat…” Matroskin let out a loud whistle “…this place is huge. I bet it has some juicy mice living on those walls too.”

  “It’s almost too large.” Victor nodded his head in agreement. Raising his head in the air, he sniffed about, “Hey, is that the cows I smell?”

  “Just enough for you to feast on my friend.” Matroskin patted him on the back “But I’ll let the two of you settle in, while I go explore woods, it’s been a while since I had the chance to sharpen my claws.”

  Tilting his head up to the sky, Matroskin began to contort and shrink down to the ground until he was back to being a tabby cat. Shaking off from his transformation, the cat looked up at us from the ground. Stretching out on the snow, he let out a soft meow and set off galloping for the woods, kicking off small clusters of white powder as he pounced in the large mounds. It looked like he was happy to be a cat again, and once more, Victor and I were left in the comfort of each other’s company.

  “Hey, Katya…” Victor looked down at me; he was playing with my engagement ring which still hung off the chain on his neck. “…would you still want to get married?”

  Taking his hand in mine, I looked up at him and smiled. “I don’t need God to tell me what I already know; you belong with me, you always have. As far as I’m concerned, we were married long before we even lived, so from here on out you can think of me as your wife if you so wish. It’s not like we need the church to tell us what to think or how we should live, we are free to make up our own rules.”

  “In that case…” he gave me a mischievous smile while scooping me up in his arms “…we should get a few things out of the way while our friend is out exploring.”

  I laughed as he brought me closer to kiss him. Wrapping my arms around his neck, I pressed my forehead against his. Somehow, we managed to find our way through the wooden door and to the upstairs bedroom. Laying me down on the bed, Victor climbed on top. We could finally be together, no fear, no sin, no restrictions, just love. Nadia may have taken away our lives, but in return, she gave us the freedom to live life the way it was meant to; free of constraints.

  That was three months ago. The three of us have settled nicely into our new life. Getting back to the simple life out in the country has been spectacular, putting the distance between myself and the city has been a healing experience. I’m sure the shadows still lurk there despite the worm being gone. After all, cities are violent places, and that gives the demons plenty of dark human soul to feast on. But here, out away from it all, we are safe from the corruption which destroys humanity, the violent creatures in our heart have few places left to hide.

  Away from the atrocities of the city and the force they exert on creatures like ourselves, Victor has become almost human. Or, perhaps, he always was. I suppose not even death can strip you of your humanity. Still, he has been more like his old self lately, so much so that I sometimes forget what he truly is. During the day, he slumbers away in the upstairs room, and at night he belongs to me. We spend all our nights together, wandering the village, or sitting on the roof watching the stars as Victor recites his poetry to me.

  For the most part, Matroskin stays out of our way, though he does keep me company during the day, but at night he is out hunting or doing something else. So far, he has even befriended the local Leshy, a Russian forest spirit who guards the woods surrounding us. I have only caught glimpses of the creature here and there, but Matroskin assures me the Leshy is keeping an eye on us to make sure we’re safe. So, if you are ever in Pogorelovo, wandering around an old wooden house, and you hear someone whistle or call your name from deep within the woods, that would be the Leshy guiding you away from the secrets you were about to uncover.

  If you do happen to hear a noise come from the woods, beckoning you to follow it, don’t, or you may never be seen again. My best advice to you is to walk away, far away, for there are some things in this world that you do not wish to discover. Stay on the path that you are on and don’t stray; there are things hiding in the shadows that are far less forgiving than the creatures the Order has under containment, things you don’t wish to have close contact with my friend. Take my word for it, the supernatural world is not something you want to be a part of, so you let it be and live the rest of your life out in blissful ignorance if you can.

  There are still times I wish I could be oblivious to the things that actually go on in this realm, but that moment for me has passed a long time ago. Now, I just do my best to pass the time I was given, which as I mentioned is rather plentiful for a ghost. In the few months we have been here, I have managed to read every book on the supernatural Vasily has sent over to me. Now I study legends of the worm, and the prophecies left behind on how it will eventually take hold of our world. That day seems to be quickly approaching, and I don’t doubt our peace won’t last long, but until we are called to action, I find other things to preoccupy my time with.

  There is a chance I may have developed some new hobbies in the process of being sort of dead. In the early hours of the morning, I take care of the cows which serve as food for Victor and oddly enough provide us wi
th some extra income as well. But after the cows had been milked and lead to pasture, there was little left for me to do. I had to find something else to keep busy, so I picked up painting. Matroskin picked me up some art supplies, and I have been teaching myself to paint, can’t say I’m very good at it, but it helps pass the time. Also, I have taken to writing my own books, who knows, maybe one day I can get my story of life as a ghost published.

  Sitting in my workspace, I recall the words a wise man once told me. He said that one should never get stuck in the past, for one cannot change it. Then he said not to derail myself by looking too far into a future which may never come. I have never understood what he was trying to tell me until I awoke as a spirit. Now I see that the future I planned for is gone, it was not meant to be, and I can’t change it. Instead, I was handed a brand-new life, a life I plan to make the most of.

  Smiling, I look out the window down to the yard below, by now the podsnezhniki have started to creep up from under the receding snow, spring is almost around the corner. In the distance, walking down the road, I see Matroskin approaching from fetching the mail in town. Running down the stairs, I go to greet him and see what he has brought us this time. Grinning, as usual, he hands me a letter that Father McAllister sent me. Opening up the envelope, I read over the contents of the hand-written note.

  “So, what news does the good Father have for us this time?”

  “He says that he is going back to America.” I read over the note again. “The Order is sending him to some place called Colorado to assist some new agents in a dangerous task.”

  “Oh boy, what task can that possibly be?”

  “Something about a seal that is getting weaker, they don’t want the worm to break free so they have to escort someone who can fix it there.”

  “No easy task, but I have confidence in Shawn. Let’s just hope that when he is done, he can drop by and pay us a visit.”

  “Indeed.” I tuck the letter into my dress. “Tea?”

  With a toothy grin, Matroskin nods his head, and we go inside for our ritual of afternoon tea. Alright, so maybe it’s just him who enjoys his tea with extra cream, but I do enjoy the conversations we have during it. It’s fun to swap stories of your time in the human world, especially when you take the time to consider we were around during the same time period. Stories and anecdotes are what we have while we sit and wait for night to fall. If we are up to it, we may even go for a stroll through the garden, planning where to put the crops come spring. In any case, we just kill the time until sundown.

  Once the night sets in the world becomes ours, for it is in the darkest shadows and the deepest corners of the imagination that things like us linger and feel most alive. For us though, nights are a relatively peaceful time. We do not wish to haunt, nor hunt, all we ask for is a chance to coexist with the rest of the world. And that is just what we do by keeping to ourselves and coming out to live our lives out under the cloak of night. I’m finally content with that, for the cover of darkness provides us with the solitude we much desire.

  As soon as the sun starts its journey below the horizon, Matroskin leaves us to go into the woods. Seems like he and his Leshy friend enjoy an evening get-together for milk, and honey on rye bread. Who knew that a small cat could eat so much food in the span of one day, but that’s alright because it leaves Victor and I to have some quality time together. Most night we stay in or at least hang around the house, but some days we go out and relive what it’s like to be human. The village isn’t exactly a picturesque, romantic setting one desires, so on the occasions we do want to go out, we have to get in the car and find a better location.

  Tonight, we have made the thirty-minute drive to the nearby village of Achuevo to spend some time by the Sea of Azov. This has always been something we wished to do in life, see the sea together. Strolling the beach arm in arm, we enjoy the soft rumble of the waves hitting the sand. The air around us is crisp, fresh, and filled with the salty smell of seawater. Walking along the sandy shore by my Victor’s side I watch as the waves pound the rocks, wearing them down over time, symbolizing the fleeting nature of life.

  Tides change, nations fall, with each passing season people grow emotionally as their ideas evolve. There is a beauty to such chaos, and that is that nothing remains the same, nothing is permeant, and everything requires change. Even we are expected to change if we are to survive in the ever-changing landscape of humanity. Mountains will crumble around us, oceans will eventually reclaim the land, and we too will have to change if we want to continue to be a part of this world. This cycle of growth and decay is the most remarkable aspect of human existence, the perfectly imperfect nature of the living world.

  Admiring the profoundness of the impermanence around us, I lean my head on Victor, pondering where we will be centuries from now. He continues to walk with me in silence, stopping at the furthest point so we can look over at the moons reflection dancing on the waves in the distance. Wrapping me in his arms, Victor places his chin on top of my head and lets out a soft sigh. Above us in the deep black sky, we see a shooting star go by, streaking its tail past the moon, headed straight for the sea, bringing us back to our final night as humans.

  “Say Kotek…” Victor leans in and kisses my cheek “…did the last wish you make on a shooting star come true?”

  Pausing to think about the last wish I ever made I cannot stop myself from smiling. Life sure does have a strange way of granting you wishes, but no matter which way I try to look at it, the answer still remains the same. Tilting my head back against his chest I glance up at him to study his face; he is giving me the signature curious look as his eyes glisten under the full moon.

  “You know what? I think, that in a way, it did.”

  “What did you wish for?” he squeezes me tightly to his chest.

  “I wished that we would be together forever.”

  Victor let out a soft laugh, and I can feel him shaking his head “Funny. I wished for the same thing.”

  “I guess we both got what we wanted then.”

  “I suppose so. Though I have to say, this is not the way I pictured an eternity with you.”

  “I suppose that’s what makes life so unpredictable; it never turns out quite the way you expected it to.”

  “Always looking on the bright side Katya. That’s why I love you so much.”

  “It’s easy once you have looked inside the abyss and walked away unharmed.”

  “I would have drowned in that abyss if you have not come along to save me. I knew you were the only light that was meant to shine for me the day we met. God had put you in my life for a reason.”

  “I suppose he did, didn’t he? “Silently I reach for my tired old crucifix and press it tightly against my chest.

  So, how does one define death? For me that answer had always been so cut and dry; you die, and you go to heaven or hell based on your merits in life. Having died, I now see the answer isn’t as simple as we had hoped, death is far too complicated to be easily defined by the limited vocabulary of mere mortals. No, the real definition of death is far too complex and beautiful to be confined to a single definition of the word.

  This world we find ourselves living in is far more colorful and dark than we ever imagined. It’s crawling with creatures so terrifying and violently gruesome that we keep them confined to the darkest corners of our imagination. Only in death do we come to possess the sacred knowledge of the world hidden beneath our own. The realms beyond the ones we live in are far too disturbing and perplexing for the average human mind to handle.

  Despite everything that I have seen and been through as a spirit roaming this world, I still can’t even begin to explain any of it. All I can tell you is this; life does not end at death, it is only the beginning of a frightfully delightful journey, full of its own twists and turns. In life, my one wish was to spend a fruitful life by Victor’s side, yet here we are, both dead, but at the same time very much alive. And none of it even matters because we are together like
we had always meant to be since our very conception.

  I’m still not sure if I believe in God or not, but I did come face to face with the devil. I suppose if he is real, then perhaps, God is real too. Maybe, one day, God will notice us and save our soul, taking us to paradise. On the other hand, I have already found heaven, it’s right here, in Pogorelovo. Paradise is what you make of it, and mine has always been right here with me, it just took me dying to see what truly mattered.

  In the end, the only thing that matters is the people we love and the legacy we leave behind. It may have taken me well over a century to get here, but I am finally home where I belong, in Victor’s arms. The journey to paradise had been long and perilous, and Dante was right, it did begin in hell, but the important thing is that we made it. My time in hell has taught me one thing, that love does indeed conquer all. Snuggled in Victor’s arms on the desolate midnight beach I have finally found what we all seek, I have found peace.

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  A.R Kingston was born in Moscow, Russia. She immigrated to the United States in her childhood settling in a quaint town in Massachusetts. She holds a bachelor’s degree in Psychology and has spent time working with the mentally ill before turning to writing.

  Kingston is both an avid gamer and seasoned traveler. Her passion is combining the legends and lore from around the world with the fantasy of games, creating a magical world similar to our own. She prefers to write stories which blend the genres of Fantasy, Horror, and Romance into a neat little package.

  She currently resides in the Denver area of Colorado with her family, including a pot belly pig.

 

 

 


‹ Prev