The Bone Mother
17-09-2005, 03:48
The forest itself, entroaching on the edge of civlization. It called out with the dark howls, chirps, sounds of life in the undergrowth, in the filth of the dirt below the falling leaves, of every small breath that was taken by the smallest of wurms, the snakes that lied for a new meal. The forest was the dark protector of all secrets within. What lied in the forest always would be a mystery to those outside, and even to those who wished to keep hidden these dark secrets would forget as the cycle of the forest burried forbidden knowledge under dirt and decay. It withered away with the natural entropy of the life cycle.
What does the forest hide? The earth below contains such lore, one only need to dig there fingers to unearth the secrets of the forests outside the city of Prague. The Czech Socialist Republic was centered around this ancient city that was center of Slavic culture, one of the cultural centers of Eastern Europe. In this intricate Slavic culture were legends of many things. Wurms, hobgoblins, other such monstrosities that were hidden under the guise of myth. Such things once terrified grown men to the bone and drived to find whatever they can for comfort. Horrible things.
And once, people believed them to be real.
____________________________
A little girl, in a simple outfit stained with the dirt of the soil, toiled away quietly at the field the bonnet blocking out the dawning sun's light as she mindlessly laboured for her family. One of the few remaining family run farms in this area, her parents were proud of this heritage. She didn't mind either. It was all she really knew. In her heart, she loved the Party, though her parents were different. They were traders, and they resisted the efforts to nationalize this farm. Even as a little girl, she realized that this situation was dangerous.
It was a cold day, but beads of sweat from work mixed with the dirt that was smeared across the girl's forehead was further a annoyance as it stung her eyes. She was a dark headed girl, which set her apart from the blond eyed, blonde haired girls she knew. Her family was Jewish, and thus it showed in her. She remembered the stories that her father told of when he was a child, and was a refugee to the Czech Republic. It was horrible to imagine what that must have been. She stood up and wiped the grime off once more, and spotted something blurry, and focusing, say a lone man in a black cassock, his face completly covered with an old beard, along with a thin receeding hairline, staring away from the girl.
She did not know how to react to such a trespasser, but she called out in Czech, which did not faze him. She made her way up to him and turned to his side, looking at his seemignly frozen face, stone cold even in the presence of the frigid wind that made the cheeks of the little Czech farmer girl red. She spoke softly to his imposing figure, hoping to find out more about why the stranger was here.
"Good sir, your freezing, what are you doing outside?"
The sweet voice was countered by a voice that was deep a throaty, yet seemed to be projected from the chest rather than the throat, breath being carefully measured for each syllable.
"The cold is my soul, and that frigid water is what makes my flesh hard and dead."
These words were extremely alarming to the girl, who stepped back a bit. She had no clue what he meant, but his menacing demeanor brought dread into her pounding heart. As she stepped back, his icy glare turned to her and he approached her, and with a cry she tried to turn and run but his hand grabbed her shoulder and his face came to hers, and she could smell the entropic smell of death upon his breath.
"The Crone will knock twice. Hospitality will be refused first, and when the second refusal is to made, the mistake will be realized and the door will open for the gates of Hell to open, and the word of God will become Heresy."
She gasped, not understanding the cryptic message, but a bag was given to her, a leathery bag full of small pieces of something akin to grain. The dark man spoke quietly, whispering in her ear his imperative.
"The sowing of the harvest is coming, and while your father and your mother make you toil, plant one of these seeds for every five normal seeds. After the harvest you will not be reaped as bounty, and be spared the scythe. Do not fail my word, or the harvest will visit your household, and you shall have no fate."
She was beginning to cry, she was scared beyond her belief as this mand held her and told her things she could not bear to understand. He shook her and ordered her to answer his imperative, which she weakly nodded to. He then released the crying girl, and crossed his arms.
"Tell not any soul below Heaven or above Hell of this, lest you meet the fate of failure that I have cursed you with. Break it by obeying this geas. Never speak of this, just carry it out. You understand, and now, I shall not be here."
She stared and turned, and ran as far as she could towards her house, breathless as she wanted to escape the dark man's icy gaze and imperative voice, never looking back. If she had looked back, she would have faced death that followed her. As long as she did not look back, death would not be realized. She was charmed and cursed. She had to carry out the imperative.
What does the forest hide? The earth below contains such lore, one only need to dig there fingers to unearth the secrets of the forests outside the city of Prague. The Czech Socialist Republic was centered around this ancient city that was center of Slavic culture, one of the cultural centers of Eastern Europe. In this intricate Slavic culture were legends of many things. Wurms, hobgoblins, other such monstrosities that were hidden under the guise of myth. Such things once terrified grown men to the bone and drived to find whatever they can for comfort. Horrible things.
And once, people believed them to be real.
____________________________
A little girl, in a simple outfit stained with the dirt of the soil, toiled away quietly at the field the bonnet blocking out the dawning sun's light as she mindlessly laboured for her family. One of the few remaining family run farms in this area, her parents were proud of this heritage. She didn't mind either. It was all she really knew. In her heart, she loved the Party, though her parents were different. They were traders, and they resisted the efforts to nationalize this farm. Even as a little girl, she realized that this situation was dangerous.
It was a cold day, but beads of sweat from work mixed with the dirt that was smeared across the girl's forehead was further a annoyance as it stung her eyes. She was a dark headed girl, which set her apart from the blond eyed, blonde haired girls she knew. Her family was Jewish, and thus it showed in her. She remembered the stories that her father told of when he was a child, and was a refugee to the Czech Republic. It was horrible to imagine what that must have been. She stood up and wiped the grime off once more, and spotted something blurry, and focusing, say a lone man in a black cassock, his face completly covered with an old beard, along with a thin receeding hairline, staring away from the girl.
She did not know how to react to such a trespasser, but she called out in Czech, which did not faze him. She made her way up to him and turned to his side, looking at his seemignly frozen face, stone cold even in the presence of the frigid wind that made the cheeks of the little Czech farmer girl red. She spoke softly to his imposing figure, hoping to find out more about why the stranger was here.
"Good sir, your freezing, what are you doing outside?"
The sweet voice was countered by a voice that was deep a throaty, yet seemed to be projected from the chest rather than the throat, breath being carefully measured for each syllable.
"The cold is my soul, and that frigid water is what makes my flesh hard and dead."
These words were extremely alarming to the girl, who stepped back a bit. She had no clue what he meant, but his menacing demeanor brought dread into her pounding heart. As she stepped back, his icy glare turned to her and he approached her, and with a cry she tried to turn and run but his hand grabbed her shoulder and his face came to hers, and she could smell the entropic smell of death upon his breath.
"The Crone will knock twice. Hospitality will be refused first, and when the second refusal is to made, the mistake will be realized and the door will open for the gates of Hell to open, and the word of God will become Heresy."
She gasped, not understanding the cryptic message, but a bag was given to her, a leathery bag full of small pieces of something akin to grain. The dark man spoke quietly, whispering in her ear his imperative.
"The sowing of the harvest is coming, and while your father and your mother make you toil, plant one of these seeds for every five normal seeds. After the harvest you will not be reaped as bounty, and be spared the scythe. Do not fail my word, or the harvest will visit your household, and you shall have no fate."
She was beginning to cry, she was scared beyond her belief as this mand held her and told her things she could not bear to understand. He shook her and ordered her to answer his imperative, which she weakly nodded to. He then released the crying girl, and crossed his arms.
"Tell not any soul below Heaven or above Hell of this, lest you meet the fate of failure that I have cursed you with. Break it by obeying this geas. Never speak of this, just carry it out. You understand, and now, I shall not be here."
She stared and turned, and ran as far as she could towards her house, breathless as she wanted to escape the dark man's icy gaze and imperative voice, never looking back. If she had looked back, she would have faced death that followed her. As long as she did not look back, death would not be realized. She was charmed and cursed. She had to carry out the imperative.