The flesh and skin of the wolf opened up, and then the wolf came out with poisonous blood and fell dead with a howl. This black blood doused the girl and reached her very trembling heart. Khalsa picked up his bride in his arms and wept bitter tears for her. But this time the wolf was not wearing his old copper skin. Then a needle entered the wolf's chest and pierced his black heart. The flesh and skin of the wolf opened up, and then the wolf came out with poisonous blood and fell dead with a howl. This black blood doused the girl and reached her very trembling heart. Khalsa picked up his bride in his arms and wept bitter tears for her.Then the dying girl whispered dying words. She kissed her fiancé on the trembling lips, and then her soul soared into heaven for judgment to the d'ahs. Khalsa took her remains to her native village. Her mother and father mourned over her and burned her body, and the ashes were scattered to the wind, as the d'ahs bequeathed.“The end,” Vassa breathed.
She was disgusted and disgusted, but even after what happened here, running away from here without looking back would be the height of stupidity. Although this place was simply howling, simply saturated with the torment of hundreds and hundreds of unknown souls, it seemed safer than the endless forests surrounding it, which continued to look at the nitsiri with a mute threat, as soon as the nitsiri showed its nose from the hut. Victa felt the needles of a thousand invisible carnivorous eyes on her sore back as she plunged into the hot water to wash away the dirt and the feeling of disgust.Didn't help. The body, even if it relaxed a little, but the ever-increasing panic continued to gnaw at the sight of this cold forest, a gloomy hut, thoughts about two corpses that lay here and there, and hot baths turned into real torture. Nitsiri got out and the water was even more tired than before, and, wrapping herself in a raincoat, which she took with her from the hut, she went to the stable w
The alchemist woke up in the middle of a windy, eerie night, when nature itself seemed to be seeking retribution for what had been happening in this distant and lonely place all these years.Vikta closed all possible openings in the hut, but the wind still rushed through the attic and sang mournfully in the cracks and corners. There hadn't been a thunderstorm yet, but for some reason Nitsiri longed for raindrops to pound on the roof. So she would be much calmer, and the nasty feeling that someone else would come into the house with the wind would disappear.In addition to the raging elements, another sound broke the silence.Cap-cap…The darkness was barely dispersed by two tallow candles. Both Vikta placed next to her, forming a small, trembling circle of light around her, the corners of the room were bathed in darkness. The face of the alchemist, swollen during the day, stood out from the darkness like the black and terrible muzzle of a troll from children's fairy tales, shadows cra
Half asleep, she sat with a stone in her mouth and listened to the howl of the wind outside the window. The room was lit by only one candle, the second was just fuming to no avail. A black notebook, swollen with indignation, lay at hand, but the nitsiri was frankly afraid to look into it. And what is she supposed to see? Questions, questions, questions...And her restless heart was not up to her, around which, with each of its measured blows, the rings of suspicion were tightening tighter and tighter, turning into an obsession - to make sure that this scum is dead.Nitsiri kissed her jewel once more, slipped it into her pocket, and picked up the candle from the floor. The shadows immediately broke from their homes and joyfully jumped around the room, turning this cramped closet into a bizarre kaleidoscope. Closer, closer, closer, to the dead giant, until the light revealed a swollen, petrified face, overgrown with thick hair. The old man was definitely deader than dead. Not a single m
Who will be the first to take a bite of it? - purred from the other side, forcing the heart to skip a beat and stop.“I am,” they squeaked from behind, when everything in Victa shrank in horror. “I didn’t get anything at all!- Yes wait. Seniors first.“The elders have already taken half of that animal for themselves. It must be a shame to eat so much!“Still young,” they all giggled at once. - Does not understand…Vikta sat neither alive nor dead, forgetting how to breathe, forgetting how to speak, feeling her clothes for the tenth time in search of loss. There was no stone anywhere...Then a prickly miniature paw poked her shoulder. Vikta shuddered, covered herself with a whole swarm of goosebumps and instantly lost her mind from fear. And the paw, meanwhile, unceremoniously felt it, moving from the bony to the softest places, as if choosing meat in the market.“Here, here, it’s good,” they breathed rot in her face. - Here it is especially horrroshno, nazhor-r-risto, fleshy.“But he
He was roused from his half-asleep by an incomprehensible, but vaguely familiar sound. Maybe heard? The wind blew in the corners of the house, the deadwood crackled in the hearth, the children sniffed, the grandfather moaned to some of his dreams - nothing unusual, like so many nights before.When it happened again, Cres broke out in goosebumps and tried to convince himself for a while that it was just a nightmare. Although it would be naive to hope that they would just leave him alone, wouldn't it?Holding on to the wall, he got to his feet and walked towards the exit. On the way, he stepped on something, and it tipped over with a crash. Kres paid no attention to this unfortunate oversight and climbed out into the air, not forgetting to once again drive his head into the low lintel.Bosorki soared in an almost silent dance against the background of the loose sky. Lots of barefoot. One by one, they fell like a stone to the houses where the village was peacefully dozing.Before Cres co
Most of the mushers were still hovering in the air, trying to pick up lone rok'hee who had not yet had time to join the rest, but quickly abandoned this futile activity, preferring to treat dogheads with new bombs. The savages routinely scattered, snarling with steel rain from bridges and branches. Everyone froze in anticipation that the enemy was about to make a new attempt to attack from a swoop, but the last bomb drivers spent on what else could be burned, and drove their pets away - to lick their wounds.Behind them they left columns of black smoke and an explosion of screams, where hatred mixed with jubilation.The defenders, wasting no time, set off to help the defenders of the Heart-House, but already at the foot of the main roar, everyone stopped dead in their tracks to look at the wounded bosorka, which was the only one to get out of the battle. She had about half a dozen arrows sticking out of her chest, and the horseman beat her with a whip and drove spurs into her bleeding
The sun was already disappearing from my eyes, and the forest was plunged into an alarming darkness. Midnight birds sang, crickets and other living creatures chirped and rustled. Drums rumbled and voices rang out. Bonfires were lit.Like everything that was done in the community, the ritual burning of the remains foreshadowed the service of the d'ahs. Rok'hee, dressed in colorful robes and painted faces, walked around a huge couch of wooden rods on which rows of dead bodies were spread, and drew complex symbols on their whitish, lifeless foreheads. Who did not have foreheads, painted where necessary. Prayers flew into the black sky, drums beat.The assembled relatives and friends remained silent. They stood about a hundred paces from the sacrament being performed and did not disturb the course of complex and responsible work. Everyone who wanted to say goodbye, said goodbye a long time ago.Finally, everything was ready to escort the men and women to the d'ahs, and the dog-heads, one