The Devil's Daughter by Clifford Beck - HTML preview

Chapter 25

It was early the next day when Bradley and Janet were wakened by their baby. The night had been cold, but with a modest supply of firewood, they managed to make use of the stove, keeping the room warm. But the fire had gone out during the night, and the room, once again, returned to its previously icy state. Slowly, they rose from their slumber, and putting down bare feet, quickly noticed the frigid wood floor. Janet leaping back into bed pulled the covers back up over her body. The fact that she will still dressed did not concern her nearly as much as the shock of placing her feet on the cold floor. “Shit, that's cold!” she exclaimed. Bradley chuckled slightly at his wife's expense, as he prepared to leave. Seeing the need to quickly arrange their passage back to Targu Mures, he chose to forgo his morning coffee, but left everything out for Janet, with the assumption that she could manage it herself.

Dressing quickly, he walked toward the door when Janet interrupted him.

“Bradley,” she began. “Please tell me you're not leaving me alone here.”

The idea of being left alone in a strange, isolated place left her more than a bit uncomfortable. “Listen, Janet,” Bradley replied. “I need to find that man...what was his name?”

“I think it was Aizic,” Janet answered. “Yes,” Bradley continued. "I need to find him, so I can arrange for us to leave. I won't be long.” He pointed to a small table near the stove. “Everything for coffee is right over there. I'll be back as soon as I can, alright?”

Janet sat with the covers pulled up around her shoulders, as their baby continued crying.

“I think Emily may need to be fed,” Bradley said.

As Bradley started towards the door, she picked up their baby, and exposing a breast, began the process of nursing.

The door closed as he walked down the stone stairs, and into the congregational hall. Moments later, another set of doors closed as he left the church. Pulling the covers off the bed, Janet threw them around herself, and with her baby at her breast, sat in a chair, facing the window they had spied through the night before. Having made coffee, Janet began what would be her only cup of the day. It was black and bitter, but it was better than nothing. The village had little to do with the outside world, but some things were an absolute necessity. Hurried by her need to catch up to her husband, she took only a few sips of coffee, changed into a fresh gown, and swaddled her baby. Now, with both being protected from the cold mountain air, Janet opened the door, carefully walked down the stairs, and through the church doors. Having arrived late the previous evening, she wasn't able to explore the village. But now, there was time, and while looking for Bradley, she also chose to show herself around, taking in the magnificent mountain views, as well as the charm of life in the Carpathian Mountains.

Janet meandered through the village's primitive dirt roads, watching the people carry on with their day, but always keeping watch for Bradley. However, the village did not go on forever, and as with any other village, Gura Haith was only so big, and it wasn't long before Janet found herself near its edge. From the road entering the village, she stood, marveling at the mountains' craggy peaks, their slopes streaked with narrow ribbons of snow. She found the sight so beautiful that she felt her eyes well up with tears. However, feeling the urge to continue searching for her husband, Janet turned back but was startled by the presence of a little girl with straight dark hair. She found the little girl's odd silence a bit uncomfortable. But in spite of this, Janet knelt down with her baby and greeted the child. “Why, hello,” she began. “And just what is your name, dear?”

Alina stood in silence, her eyes burning with contempt at the sight of this stranger, who knelt before her, with strange words and obvious transparency. Janet, continuing to see her expression of anger, became uncomfortable to the point of fear. Alina did not move. She did not blink, and she didn't speak. It didn't take much time for Janet to come to the belief that something terrible had happened to the little girl, and she truly felt a great deal of sympathy for her.

From a short distance, Janet heard a woman's panicked voice.

“Alina!”

It was Anca. Having seen Janet walking nearby, and never having seen anyone dressed in elegance, Alina decided to follow her, and as Janet stood, admiring the view, Alina, wanting to more closely investigate, walked quickly up behind her.

“Alina!”

Anca ran up to her and taking her by the shoulders, made eye contact with Janet.

“You must not run away. We do not want to go looking for you in the woods again. Now, come home.” She took Alina by the hand, and as she led her back home, turned back to Janet.

“You need to leave!” she began. “This is not the place for you or your baby!”

Holding her child, Janet stood at the edge of the dirt road, both confused and frightened. Anca's heavy accent made it difficult for Janet to understand her, but hearing Alina's name being repeated, she assumed it to be the child's name. But, as Alina was being led away, she looked at Janet with an angry expression, and through open lips, repeatedly struck her teeth together. This, Janet found especially disturbing but assumed that she had been born with some sort of disability.

Turning away from the mountains, Janet began walking back to the center of the village, her step quickened by the disturbing sight she had just witnessed. Within moments, she became plagued with the feeling that she was being watched. The impression was strong enough that she could feel a pressure build within her. Her mind told her that this was a damaged child. However, there was something else, something she was not yet able to realize. The fear of her encounter with Alina quickly pushed her towards the village square, but her curiosity suddenly overtook her, as she stopped and turned back. Alina had broken away from her mother, and having run up behind her, stopped a few yards away and began howling. Although her voice was shrill and child-like, it was her expression Janet found frightening. Scrawled across Alina's face was a taunting look of malicious cruelty, accompanied by a smirk of pleasure at the successful act of torturing Janet, on a level that shook her soul.

“Alina!”

Janet recognized the now-familiar sound of Anca's voice, as she raced down to, once again, retrieve her from the presence of the unwanted stranger. But more than that, given her fear of how the village was reacting, Anca felt it more important to keep Alina close to the house, constantly fearing for her safety.

This time, Anca picked her up, and lifting her to a hip, scolded her again.

“You must stay at home! You know what people are saying! Now, you stay in the house!” Awakened by Anca's voice, Janet's baby began crying. Ordinarily, the crying of an infant would go almost unnoticed, but with the eyes of the still-unidentified creature looming over the village, a fussy baby could attract a dangerous degree of attention, especially at night. As Anca carried her daughter back to safety, she turned to Janet with one last warning.

“And when the night comes, keep your baby quiet.” Janet was stunned. Since their arrival, they had received several urgent warnings about the necessity to leave, and although Janet still took it as an expression of superstition, this latest warning frightened her more than those given the day before.

As Janet approached the busy square, all eyes fell upon her. Many had not been present at their arrival and slowed their pace as they took in the sight of the strangely dressed visitor. It was also noticed that she was carrying a baby, and a few of the villages' elderly women stopped to peak beneath the woven blanket, covering the child's face. Feeling a touch of sensitivity, Janet allowed it, letting those of kinder heart stroke the infants' head with a smooth, but shriveled hand. Her baby's face brought a smile to many, as well as a compliment.

“Copilul dvs. este atât de frumos. Un adevărat dar de la Dumnezeu.”

'Your baby is so beautiful. Truly a gift from God.'

“Yes, thank you,” she replied.

She didn't understand Romanian, but by their kind faces, and gentle tone, it was obvious to Janet that they were expressing their affinity for her baby.

Quickening her pace, Janet began searching for Bradley. Gura Haith was less than modest in size, and it wouldn't take her long to find him. Eventually, Janet discovered him arguing over a run-down supply wagon. A middle-aged, white-haired man had been busily making repairs to its frame, and Bradley was unsuccessfully attempting to speed his progress.

“Bradley,” she began. “I've been looking for you.”

Seeing the wagon suddenly gave her hope that they would soon be leaving, and Janet let out a gasp of excitement. “Bradley, are we going home now?” He had been inspecting the wagon, and turning to Janet, expressed his frustration and disappointment. “I'm sorry, darling,” he began. “It seems as though part of the frame is badly damaged. It will at least a week until it's repaired. That is, according to this gentleman.” The white-haired man looked up from where he sat, next to one of the rear wheels. His face bore an impatient look as he continued tinkering with the carriage's cracked frame. “A week?” Janet said.

Her voice reflected the disappointment she felt at being forced to remain in a place she found intolerably uncivilized.

“We have to wait a week?!”

“At least that,” Bradley replied.

Looking down at the ground, he let a heavy sigh, while searching for something positive to say. “I suppose things could be worse,” he continued. “We could be miles from here, in the middle of nowhere.” Janet put on a confident look, not wanting Bradley to feel as though he had failed in his responsibilities as a protector. She put a hand on one of the lapels of his jacket and looked up at him with endearing eyes.

“Now dear,” she began. “I know that you have everything under control and that we'll be on our way home within the next few days.”

She paused for only a moment, as her mind flashed back to the odd event that had taken place at the edge of the village. “Oh, I just met the strangest little...” They were startled when the old man suddenly dropped a tool, as he became caught up in his own fearful reaction. But his fear quickly turned to anger, and he glared at Janet with a forceful warning.

“Alina. She is not what she seems to be, and she will soon answer to God Himself for what she has brought to this village. Then, the evil will be gone.” He spoke through crooked, yellowish-brown teeth, as a sheen of sweat built up on his forehead. He pointed a finger at them as if to be scolding.

And when the night comes, be sure you are inside. And keep your baby from crying. That will only draw it closer.” Janet was fascinated at the mystique behind the old man's words and wanted to hear more.

“Draw what closer?” she asked.

Leaning towards her, the old man gave a brief account of the evil that had befallen the village. “The Grozavie,” he said.

With her curiosity peaked, Janet inquired further. “What's that?”

“The Grozavie was brought to our village by that...little girl,” he began. “Now, the body of our priest has been dug from his grave and eaten, and a baby has been stolen from its crib. Very little of it was left to bury.” As shocking as his story was, Janet tried to offer a more likely explanation.

“But there are wolves here. We've heard them and we've seen more than a few.”

Bradley stood by, trying to ignore the conversation. Having been frightened away from his sanity by the events on their nights in the woods, Bradley interrupted as his fear, again, forced its way to the surface.

“Darling,” he began. “Why don't we let the man get to his work? I'm sure he doesn't want his time wasted with idle chit-chat. Why don't we go for a walk?”

Visibly frustrated, Janet was beginning to see her husband as lacking the nerve for anything of a frightening nature and walked away as Bradley hurried to keep up. “Wait,” he began. “Darling, what is it?”

She stopped abruptly and quietly confronted him on his lack of consideration.

“Bradley, why must you interrupt? I was so enjoying his story. Do these things disturb you that much?” Janet had successfully seen through his facade of masculine strength, and while she secretly found it humorous, she also found it bothersome, that Bradley seemed to be so lacking in courage.

Glancing down at the ground, Bradley paused to gather his thoughts. He felt both compelled and obligated to provide a response, but without losing face. “Janet,” he began. “I'm just not entirely comfortable with all these stories. They remind me of the ghost stories I was told as a child.”

Janet moved closer, and putting her hands on his chest, spoke to him patiently.

“Alright,” she said. “No more stories. Now, let's go for that walk, shall we?”

She looked up into his eyes with a smile, and stepping to his side, Janet took his arm as they started towards the road. Attempting to distract him from what she believed to be the results of his encounter with the wolf, Janet strongly suggested that they tour the village. She wanted to see everything - How the people of Gura Haith worked and lived. How their children played and laughed in a place that was allegedly haunted by a darkness that went unseen, with the exception of its folklore.