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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1857428-A-Village-Disrupted
by Peaker
Rated: 18+ · Fiction · Fantasy · #1857428
An old village has its routine shattered by a stranger and the horrific murder of family.
The village slumped in a clearing in the middle of a dense forest. Years of timber work has cleared the area around the outside of the village which is now used for growing crops. Two tall wooden walls envelop the village in their embrace like a pair of protective arms holding a wayward child and stopping it from escaping. The two gateways at either end of the main street are the only ways in and out of the settlement, unfortunately ensuring that the houses become more and more crowded each time a new family arrives and a new home is required. A ditch runs around the outside of the walls to give added protection in times of trouble, but now its used mostly for pouring out human waste and rotten food. The walls are sadly neglected and probably useless if needed for defence due to the holes and missing boards.

Inside the walls, a small patch of grass marks the centre of the village. It's hard to make out as the usual bright green grass has been churned to mud with the constant traffic from the villagers as they walked to and from the single well in the centre of the village.

The buildings consist of crude and shabbily built thatched roofed houses with one slightly larger building for a blacksmith with a large forge in the centre of its back yard. On the opposite side of the village centre, a building, which looks like the only one sturdy enough to stand up to more than a small gust of wind, performs its role as the tavern and congregating place for the village. 

The tavern stands out as the only tiled building amongst its thatched brethren, with a tall brick chimneystack leaking a steady feeble stream of smoke.  In this village even the tavern has seen better days as the occasional missing tile and patchwork walls testify. The roof is still mostly waterproof though despite the gaps and not much rainwater has leaked through even in the current rainy season. Although there is no such luxury as glass windows, a man can be seis en holding a shutter open and looking out thoughtfully.

Most of the settlement is gathered in the tavern as the sun begins to set. The current hard working day of ploughing fields and planting seeds is over and people have come to have a drink and share a story before heading back home to start all over again the next day. The daily ritual of taking a drink,  congregating and talking was one of the man in the windows favourite rituals. Partly because, as the tavern owner, it was when he saw most of his income made. Today though, was to be completely different.

As the man contemplated the pleasant buzz of conversation, the smokey atmosphere and the sound of laughter from the other side of the room, a voice boomed through the smoke from the back of the room.

'Listen to me all of you if you value your lives'

The voice came from the back doorway of the tavern. Through the smoke a figure could be made out, framed by the fading light behind him, the man appeared to be tall and very thin. He stepped forward and light cast a warm glow over him. He appeared very tired and worn down but it was obvious he had been a big healthy man when in his prime.

'She is close, she will be here soon if she isn't already. You must gather together and stand strong or she will take you all one by one. You must listen.'

The man looked beseechingly at the gathered, silent and shocked villagers. They stared at him until one man whispered 'He is mad' just loud enough to be heard by everyone and the spell was broken. People turned back to their drinks and stories and the man was ignored as suddenly as he had appeared. The tavern keeper though watched the man as he slowly started to sob, his hands cradling his face and the soft voice carried across the room 'Not again, please'

Just as the tavern keeper stepped towards him, the front door burst open and crashed against the wall. The tavern keeper winced and wondered how much damage that would cause but then he recognised the newcomer as James, one of the villagers from the end of town near the Eastern gate. His eyes were so wide the tavern keeper could make out every detail of his bloodshot orbs, his mouth was hung open, spittle drooling down his chin. He spoke very quickly and his voice was much higher than usual.

'I thought I would stop by Will and Eleanor's on the way here to help them put their young ones to bed, but when I got there the door was swinging back and forth on its hinges. There was blood all over the floor and I could see Wills feet. I stepped inside and they were both there, Will and Eleanor or at least most of them. Their bodies lay on the floor, hideously torn and disfigured, their limbs separated and thrown around the room. Wills head was balanced on the middle of the table. Blood was splashed everywhere. I looked quickly but couldn't see the three children so I ran here. We have to do something.'

A loud wail rose from the back of the pub and they all turned to see the stranger raise his fists and smash them onto the nearest table.

'Its too late, I am too late again'

The villagers all stared at the insane stranger in their midst, most of them forgetting about James in the doorway.

'This is how it begins, with the children. She hates children and always turns them first. Then they turn on the adults and soon there is nothing left. Then she moves on. It's all my fault! I can't stop her. I cant keep failing over and over again'

The mood in the tavern had changed, the villagers all openly glaring at the stranger and wondering what he had brought to their village.

One or two stepped towards him aggressively and the mood swung to open hostility and impending violence. The tavern owner quickly stepped in front of the stranger and opened his arms while he spoke. 'Listen all of you, we need to know what is happening here and we need the information this man has. Don't let fear cloud your judgement.'

Even though he was used to breaking the tension in his tavern, he wasn't sure that he had succeeded until finally a voice broke from the back of the room. 'Listen to Karl, he is right. We need to know what's going on.'

The stranger spoke again. 'It started many years ago, the village I lived in was not too different from this, maybe slightly larger but otherwise the same. I owned a tavern like this and I did well, we were on a crossroads between two major cities, a small town and the mountain pass to the neighbouring kingdom. We were starting to prosper. A merchant moved into the town and new buildings, better buildings were starting to be built. It was a good time. The merchant had a daughter that I couldn't take my eyes off. She was so beautiful. She had long dark shiny black hair, deep blue eyes and a mouth lined by ruby red lips. She kept her nails immaculately trimmed and shaped in the fashions of the big city and her hands were delicate and slender.  I would see her every morning as I tidied up outside the tavern, she would sit in her window and comb her hair for over an hour, she was so proud of her beautiful thick black hair. I would watch and smile, just seeing her would make me happier. Strangely though, I was the only one that liked her. The rest of the village took an instant dislike to her. I couldn't understand it. She was so wonderful! I always stood up for her, protected her and I rather stupidly thought that by doing so she would come to see me as more than just the tavern owner from across the street. I even approached the merchant himself about asking for her hand but he simply laughed at me and said she was meant for better things than working in a tavern.

Children particularly disliked her, they called her a witch and commonly laughed at her for whatever she did. They ridiculed her for things I couldn't see and she hated them. She would say terrible things to them and make them cry when they were alone, but when there was more than two or three she wouldn't say a word, as if she was afraid of them. It completely confused me as to why they couldn't see her as I did, and why they would treat her so badly. I couldn't even see that she reciprocated, never mind that she might be causing it.

Every so often there would be one day when everything was at its worst. My love would come back from the city with a new trinket or a new dress that her father had bought for her when he had completed a particularly successful deal. She would take every possible chance to leave the house and parade around the streets if the weather was good. She expected compliments from everyone who saw her and would glare at people if they did not say anything. This was the time when she would almost actively seek me out. The day that it all started was one of those days. It had rained the night before and there was a lot of rubbish had been washed to the outside of the tavern which I was sweeping up. I heard her before I saw her, she was talking to her father. As she left the house I heard her tell him that he was worrying to much and that her new dress would not get ruined if she wore it for a while. She stepped outside in a deep red velvet dress. She made the breath catch in my throat as she appeared, a vision of beauty to me.

The red dress perfectly suited her beautiful hair, her eyes seemed to shine bluer than ever, her lips reflected the red from the dress and seemed fuller and redder than ever. I was absolutely spellbound by her appearance. She took three steps into the street and that's when it happened.

A small child, I couldn't see who it was, ran around the corner of the building and jumped two feet together into a puddle at her feet, completely unaware that someone was standing next to the puddle. The splash of water drenched my love from her feet to her face. I stopped breathing again, knowing how this could go very badly wrong if she reacted the wrong way. The child stared at her, aware of her for the first time and started laughing as she saw the muddy water dripping down her face. It took only a second for the reaction, a strong hand snapped out and clamped on the child's arm. The other hand reached back and came around with a whoosh of air and then a sharp smack as she slapped the child's face. There was a strange giggle erupted from the ghastly closed slice of her mouth as the child started to cry. She slapped the child again, not quite so hard this time but still hard enough to be heard. The giggle burst into laughter, but not the pleasant kind of laughter that made you want to join in. This was the kind of laughter that chilled your bones and made your hairs stand on end, a kind of evil, torturous laugh that didn't sound at all normal and barely human. The slaps continued as she laughed. The child was screaming, crying and struggling now, but she wasn't going to let go now that she had finally got her hands on one of those annoying little brats as she referred to them.

I think it was the laugh that kept me stuck to the spot and unable to move. I couldn't believe she could laugh like that and I started to see the things I couldn't before. Her personality crept into her face, the eyes seemed deeper, smaller and less blue, more black. Her mouth was less red and round, but more of a thin bloody gash scratched across her face. Her hair that I had thought was so gorgeous and black and shiny was actually thin, patchy and unkempt where she had brushed it for too long and pulled out patches. She had a sheen of insanity over her that I didn't know whether it had been there all along but I knew I would always see when I looked at her. The slaps had turned to punches now, the child was already unconscious or in shock and I think she was unaware of what was going on which was a blessing as the next attack wasn't anything so simple as a slap. She reached forward, placing her face next to the child's and still laughing, she bit the child's nose, she actually bit it, hard enough to grab hold and then pull away, taking the end of the nose with her teeth. Blood spurted down the child's face and onto the merchant's daughter but it didn't bother her at all, I think she was completely insane now and that's what started me moving finally. I took two steps towards her, but too late to stop the next attack. Her face darted forward again and bit the child's cheek, pulling back again with a part of the child in her mouth. I got to within a stride of her but the third and final attack got in ahead of me. Her face shot forward again and this time it was the neck, biting hard and deep she tore a piece out of the child's neck and finished the child. The wound was deep and had torn through the artery. The blood came out thick and red.

Unbelievably the merchants daughter, the woman I thought I had loved, rubbed her face in the blood and then used her hands to wipe it over her face. She hadn't even stopped laughing during the entire attack. I took the child in my arms and moved her away. I then turned back to the woman, the ugly crone as I saw her now, still unable to reconcile the two images into the one woman. She laughed and told me I was pitiful, that she had always laughed at me, my awkwardness, my infatuation. She told me that her father and her had always thought me pathetic. I lost my temper, my sanity even, for just one moment. I slapped her like she had slapped the child. She laughed again.

'Is that all you have? You really are a worm aren't you?'

She turned quickly and ran through the door into the house. There was a smash of glass and pottery as she threw things on the floor in her fury. I daren't enter although I don't know why now, I suppose it is because for so long I had been denied entry that I still felt it wrong to go in.  I heard a man shout in anger, undoubtedly her father and then a crash. She must have thrown a lantern down because smoke started to pour out of the doorway as the oil soaked into the floor rushes and ignited instantly. A flaming figure appeared in the doorway, screaming and burning almost from head to toe. I thought she had tried to kill herself at first but a moment later I realised it wasn't her that was burning but her own father.  She had thrown the lantern on him in her rage. I thought she would be devastated at her own mistake but again I was wrong. She appeared in the doorway behind him laughing, and kicked him in the rear and sent him sprawling in the street. She laughed as his screams rose and then subsided until just a last gasp came from him as his body gave in to the pain and damage and he finally died, his body still burning. It was too late for me to help him even if I had been able to move.

She turned back into the house and I shouted to her to stop but she had disappeared. I stood as the rest of the village gathered, drawn by the screaming. Solemnly and silently as if they had expected this all along, they poured water on the body and then took it away. They calmly formed a chain line with buckets and started the process of putting out the fire before it got out of control. I felt as if the whole world was going insane.

As evening fell, the town held a funeral fire in the town square. The flames rose around the already burnt body and the sky was lit up as darkness fell. Not many people stayed around to watch as they felt no great pity for this man that had despised them and treated them poorly. We had no idea that this was just a momentary pause in the days events.

As the night crept over the town, most people had headed home and were settling down with their families. Two of the men had stayed to check the pyre to make sure that stray ashes didn't set buildings alight. I looked through the shutters at them several times that night feeling a sense of unease that I couldn't identify but assuming that it was due to the strangeness of the day. As I looked at them for the fifth or sixth time I realised that something was wrong. They hadn't moved at all for nearly an hour and were now slumped together in a way that was much too close for two men, almost as if they held each other. As I watched, a shadow ran across the square behind them and a flaming spark from the fire rose and then landed on the roof of one of the houses opposite. It sparked and very slowly started to spread. I rushed out and shouted for help. Grabbing a bucket from near the well I ran over and threw it over the spreading fire. Fortunately it was enough to put out the budding fire before it got a proper foothold. There was something odd about this ember though and it took a moment to realise that this wasn't an ember but a piece of wood from the fire that had been placed there. I couldn't understand why anyone would do that after such a dreadful day but then I heard the laughter. I recognise that laughter anywhere now and it still sounds as crazy as when I first heard it.  She was out and before the night was finished, the whole town was ablaze and everybody had been murdered. I was the only person spared. If only I had been able to stop her.

She never forgave the children. She despises pretty things now as she has become outwardly as vile and ugly as her inner personality. Children earn special hatred from her.  She now appears to all as old, bent, chronically thin, boney, balding, just a few rotten broken shards of teeth, sunken tiny all black eyes, discoloured skin, warts, gnarled fingers with long claw like nails.

All she wants is to wipe out any villages that remind her of her home.'

With that, the stranger hid his face in his hands and wept openly. The gathered crowd stood silently unsure of what to do or say. The Inn Keeper Karl walked over and rested a hand on his shoulder.

'We need to do something before this gets any worse' Karl said.

'How do we know he is telling the truth, he might be the one that attacked Will and Eleanor. He could be telling this story to cover up for himself!' A man's voice waivered unconvincingly from the back of the room. They knew what they had to do but were looking for excuses to avoid doing it. The truth was they would have to hunt down whoever did this and destroy them but that meant confronting something beyond their comprehension. Someone who could kill a peaceful family and their children.

Suddenly a scream from behind makes them all spin around just in time to see a pair of legs disappearing through the open shutters and upwards onto the roof. Total confusion and panic hit the occupants of the inn, as without realising it, all the people shuffle backwards away from the shutters. Then a second scream from above and a line of red trickled down from the roof and onto the floor outside. A woman in the crowd starts screaming and then another joins in. Karl walks over and puts his arm around the first woman, another man followed his example with the other screaming occupant.

'Everybody into the centre of the inn away from the shutters. We dont know what did this but we need to think smart to stop it happening again. Stay away from the windows and it cant get us. Also we need to be quiet so we can hear whats happening outside.' Karl's mind was racing as he tried to take it all in and process what was going on.

Just as he spoke a skittering scratching noise could be heard from above them, going across the roof.

'What in the hell is that?' said a man from the back. He stepped forward looking upwards, trying to follow the noise. It went from one side of the inn where the man had been dragged through the window, to the other. Then a second set of noises started from the same side as the body and joined the first on the other side before both noises stopped and went quiet.

'There is more than one' said the man again

Karl nodded and everyone started talking quietly amongst themselves. The noise level started to rise and Karl knew he had to do something but he was unsure what to do. Before he could gather his thoughts, a scream rose from the back of the inn and as he pushed through the crowd, he saw what the screaming woman could see. A man stood with his back to the wall, four red lines across his neck were oozing blood but the back of his neck was mostly missing and blood was spraying out over the wall there. For just a second, a small face was visible, licking its lips covered in blood, through a hole in the wall directly behind the dying man.

'Dear God above!' stated Karl

'What happened?' said a blond haired muscular man who was now holding the lady that had screamed.

'I saw a face' Karl said 'a small face, with blond hair and brown eyes. I know that face'

'That's Will and Eleanor's son' said the muscular man 'how could that be? He must be stuck outside there with whatever did this. We need to let him in!'

'No way! You can't open that door. You will let in the witch that is doing this!' said a man from the front of the crowd. He was cradling his sobbing wife in his arms. 'She has already taken Will and Eleanor and now my brother has been pulled through the window'

'We can't leave the boy outside' said the muscle man again

'On the contrary, you must leave him outside' said a commanding voice from the back. The stranger had gathered his resolve and seemed calmer and more assured now. 'The boy is not what he once was.'

'What does that mean?' shouted the blond man.

'She has taken him for her own. He now craves the same things as her. The death and destruction of all around him'

'This can't be, he is just a boy, he couldn't do that'

'Yes he can, the stranger is right' Karl spoke loudly so all could hear. 'The stranger knows what he is talking about. I find it hard to admit to myself even, but the boy made those cuts with his fingernails and the larger piece missing from Gray's neck is a bite wound. The boy wasn't looking in through the hole, he was drinking the blood that was spraying through at him'

'So he has joined her? If so, he must die for what he has done' A woman's voice came from the back. 'We cannot let him continue like that, even though he is a boy. We must destroy them both'

'I fear it isnt that simple. The boy is not alone with her. She doesn't come out of hiding until dark. She will lay low and let the children do her work. It is part of her revenge on all the children that tormented her. She takes their innocence and turns them into the monsters that they thought she was. She lets them run the towns during the day and then she finally emerges at night to finish it off. No-one will be alive by day break tomorrow.' The stranger spoke with a calming voice but Karl could detect a sense of futileness to his voice as if he had been here before many times and been unable to stop what would happen.

A voice came from the middle of the crowd 'So who is the other person up there?'

'I fear it is the other children you mentioned'

'One is only a baby though, it can't be a monster. The other girl is only four years old!'

'Nevertheless I fear it is so'

The inn was quiet now, people trying to absorb the ideas they had been given. The impossible notion that children were outside, attacking and killing people.

'We need to do something and we have little time to waste by the sound of it' said Karl. 'I think we need to fight back and first of all we need to stop the children and put them to rest.'

The stranger came forward 'They can be killed just like any normal human but they are not human at all, you must remember that or you may pause at the wrong moment.' He strode forward to stand next to Karl. 'I have never been able to get anyone to believe me before but you,' he placed his hand on Karl's upper arm 'you have given me some small amount of hope for a different outcome.'

'So, we should arm ourselves?' said the man that had held the other screaming lady.

'Yes, but what with?' from the back of the room

'I have weapons at my forge' A large-shouldered man pushed his way through the crowd and Karl recognised him as the blacksmith Bowman. 'I have a couple of swords I have been sharpening plus a lot of farm implements that would work.'

'Ok' Karl realised that someone needed to be the first to volunteer and that he also needed to point out the dangers that they seemed to have forgotten in their eagerness to equip themselves. 'So, we need to get across to the smithy. I will go, who else is with me?'

At first noone spoke but then Bowman, the man who had suggested arming themselves and the stranger all stepped forward.

'That will do. The four of us can grab weapons for ourselves and spares. It makes no sense to risk more lives at this point. If we can make it there and back with weapons then we can plan what to do next. If we dont make it then make sure you shut the doors and shutters tight and dont let anyone in for any reason until the morning. When we leave, close that door and dont open it until you hear us knocking to get back in!'

As the four of them ran out of the door, the innkeeper heard it slam shut behind them with a mixture of relief and panic at the same time. At least they had obeyed his wishes and closed the door to protect the occupants of the inn but that also meant that his retreat was cut off for now and he had no choice but to run across the street. A small part of his brain also registered that without realising it he had officially become the leader of this village albeit for a short time while this danger was present.

He glanced down the street and could see smoke pouring out of Will and Eleanor's now as something burned fiercely inside. He knew that if the blaze wasn't tackled it would spread to the next house, growing with each building it consumed until the whole village was burning. That was the problem with thatched roofs he contemplated, it's too much like kindling for a fire. At this moment he almost smashed face first into the wall of the blacksmiths. They had crossed the street without him even realising it. As he took a moment to catch his breath, he glanced back at the inn and saw a boy standing on top of the roof of the inn, his head cocked to one side like a curious dog seeing a rabbit and taking a moment to recognise it as prey. The boy watched them with a smile spreading on his face. The innkeeper heard a bang as the door to the blacksmiths was kicked open and they rushed inside, unsure of what would be waiting them. The inn-keeper glanced through the open doorway just as the door was shut again. He was fairly sure that the figure of the boy had disappeared though.

At the back of the blacksmiths was a large double door to the forge. Bowman strode to the door and opened it quickly, he stepped through into the open yard containing the forge and a small hand swung down from above the doorway and clawed at his face. He fell forward screaming in pain as his hands flew up to his face. Thick red blood oozed between his fingers as the small hard darted down again, this time the fingers forming one large claw and it sliced through his neck. The blood spurted out this time in a spray which he couldnt hope to stop. Mercifully his screaming stopped but he sank to the floor and lay still, a large pool of blood forming around his neck. The stranger slammed the door shut before whatever had got him could get in at them.

They all stared at the door and tried to catch their breath. There were footsteps across the roof towards the door they had come in and Karl slammed it shut rapidly. He gestured at the door and grabbed a large iron bar from the many that were leaning against the wall. The stranger opened the door quickly and Karl threw himself through it. By going through low and quick he hoped to avoid the ambush from above. He didnt plan his landing though and fell sprawled across the body of Bowman. He tried to get up quickly and slipped on the blood but managed to regain his feet. He swung around and raised the iron bar to his shoulder just in time he saw the small body flying at him from the roof and managed to get the bar between him and it. His eyes widened in horror as he watched the four year old daughter of Will and Eleanor slide down the bar, impaled through the chest and certainly dead now as he dropped them both to the floor.

The stranger came in to the room and took the scene in quickly. 'Come on, lets get some weapons and get back before the boy shows up'

A scream came from the room they had just left and then a bang as the other man ran out of the blacksmiths and into the street.

'He must be heading back to the inn, we need to get moving' Karl had gathered himself together again and though he doubted that he would ever feel fully composed after today he knew he was in control enough to get on with what needed to be done. They grabbed the two swords from the rack and then also managed to get a small hand sycthe and a fork. Karl pushed the side door open and they both ran through a short alley and out into the main village square. As they ran, they could see a small figure bent over a larger figure on the ground. It was the boy and he appeared to be eating the man who had run out of the blacksmith the other way. He looked up with a big grin on his face and then jumped up to stand straight, still grinning and pointing. Karl realised with a lurch of his stomach that there was another smaller figure previously hidden by the boy, but also chewing at the neck and face of the dead man on the floor. 'The baby,' he thought to himself, 'oh my, no, its the baby.'

They ran but Karl realised that they werent going to make it before the boy who was now sprinting at full speed to intercept them. Instead he turned towards the boy, raised the sword over his head and swung with all his might just as the boy leaped at him. The sword stroke nearly severed the boys small body in half and it fell flat on the floor cleaved from the top of the head to the middle of his stomach. Entrails spilled out and blood clouded the air. Karl tripped over the boys intestines, the stranger catching his foot on Karl's outstretched legs went tumbling over the top of him.

Karl looked up and couldnt believe his eyes. The inn was on fire! The roof of the building had smoke pouring through the shutters and doorway but no-one was leaving the inn. He couldnt hear screams either and couldnt understand until the door exploded out in a hail of splinters and a bent old crone stood in the doorway, a scene from hell behind her with body parts piled high inside the tavern. She had finally arrived.

The stranger wailed as they both got to their feet, but it was the crone who spoke first 'You, finally, you are here and now I can finish what you started so many years ago' Her voice was strong and young and did not match her body or face in any way.

'Yes, I am here, and it is time you ended this trail of terror and death that you leave wherever you go' The stranger looked younger and stronger as if facing this final demon of his past had removed some of the tell tale signs of stresses and dissapointments that life tends to leave behind. 'This time, I will finish it' He swung the huge hammer around his head and it collided with the side of the crones face as she made no effort to move, did not even flinch. There was a sickening crunch and her head seemed to be in two places at once, the first like a smashed and rotten fruit following the trajectory of the hammer, and the second exactly as it had been before and completely unaffected or moved by the hammer blow. The stranger looked stunned as she reached out to him and wrapped her arms around him. Her face lifted to stare at Karl and the laughter began before being cut off in a bubble of blood as she bit deeply into his neck and severed the bloodflow at the artery. He sighed, and said to her 'You finally did the one thing that I have wished for for all these years, you have taken my life when every attempt I have made has failed. I cant die unless you take my life and believe me I have tried many ways to end my existance while following your trail of death and destruction. Just like you cant die unless I am also dead. We are bound together by forces stronger than both of us and always have been, if only you had realised that instead of being the unpleasant bitch you are. Now you will pay the price for everything you have done as soon as that sword descends.'

Karl never did understand how the stranger had known that he was swinging the sword as his back was to Karl but he knew, and the look on his face as the sword bit deeply through both of their necks to sever their heads was one of pure satisfaction. Karl lifted the body of the crone and threw it backwards into the burning building that had once been his tavern. He kicked the head in after it. He felt sure he could hear the screaming and could see the thrashing headless body as it burned and then a smokey wisp shaped like the crone rose slightly before several small dark childrens arms rose from the ground and pulled it down through the ground as if they were trying to pull themselves out. The strangers head whispered 'Thank you' before the eyes turned glassy and vacant and a white fluffy cloud shaped like the stranger rose through the roof of the tavern and dissapeared.

There was nothing left now for Karl here and he had no money to start again, not to mention there was noone left in the village to visit a tavern. He would simply have to go and work for his uncle in the city. His uncle had a thriving business as a witch hunter and Karl had always thought it nonsense but now he truly believed.





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