Toska

by A. R. Kingston

  We continue to stroll down the wooden planks over the water; my dress gently swishes with each new step. If anyone were to catch a glimpse of us, they’d surely think we were the ghost of a time gone by, and they would not be wrong. But I’m not too worried about anyone seeing us like this; this was Dedinovo after all, you’d be hard-pressed to see a single soul out during the day. As for tonight, everyone who remained in the village was out celebrating the end of the year with a festive bonfire.

  New Year’s Eve is not until tomorrow, but it has been a long-standing tradition here for the village to get together the night before for a huge celebration. It is an accepted Slavic belief that you will spend your next year the same way you ring it in. Therefore when we ring in the new year, we are sure to do it in the company of friends and family, so they are never far from us in the year to come. That’s why in the villages, the night before has always been reserved for the town celebration, fireworks and all the champagne you can drink.

  Village festivals are really something else, people in the city just don’t get together like we do, and they definitely don’t light bonfires for every occasion. Funny, the night our life ended we were at a bonfire much like the one tonight, except that one was in honor of us. Our closest friends had insisted we celebrate before getting married the next day; perhaps we stayed a bit too long, maybe got a bit too drunk that night. All I know is, it was getting late, and Victor insisted on walking his bride home because a gentleman never leaves his lady unaccompanied.

  If I remember correctly, he said he would sleep better if he knew I got home without falling prey to man or beast. Little did he know then, but we would both fall victims to the nature of man that night. I know tradition calls for the groom to not see his bride on the evening before their wedding, but Victor and I have never been much for traditions. Was that our ultimate folly? Maybe if we did not walk home together that night, we would still be alive, or maybe only one of us would be dead, no way of knowing now.

  Approaching the old church, I thought perhaps God was punishing us for our indiscretions, but that could not be it. Over the years I have seen many people who commit greater sins than we have, and they got to live productive lives, so why not us? This was not God’s doing, even if I believed God existed, the circumstances surrounding our death had a far darker signature on it. Maybe what really befell us was the work of the devil, or at the very least he had a hand to play in all this.

  Drawing ever closer to the ancient sanctuary, I looked up at the faded black couples blending into the night sky, wondering where we ever went wrong. We died not far from there, right by the shores of the Oka River, in a small field, which was formed by the bend in the road. Is it irony, or poetic justice, that we died just steps away from the rectory, or maybe, a little bit of both? So close to safety, and yet too far away to get the help we needed in time. I think it was Father Sokolov who found my body moments after my soul had lost its hold. To this day I’m surprised the old man didn’t have a heart attack on the spot. He was shaken up for a long time afterward, eventually leaving the church and moving away.

  Walking over to the clearing where our life ended, and another began, we glance up at the noble monastery. In the glory days, it was an exquisite structure, the jewel of the village, now it’s slowly being reduced to rubble. The skeleton crew that remains to watch over it has no money to restore it to its former glory. The old rectory is almost gone now, just an empty, crumbled shell remains. Overcome with emotions, I feel the tears liberating themselves from my eyes, I allow them to fall for there is no need to hold back any longer.

  Looking over at me, Victor cups my face in his hands. Wiping away the tears with his thumbs, he kisses me as passionately as he did that night. A firework whistles and explodes in the sky above us, illuminating the darkness enshrouding us. Another rocket follows it with a pop, raining multi-colored sparks down on the river. The shadows around us shrink back with every new bang, giving me a faint glimpse into the distance.

  Staring into the dark, watching the flickers in the sky with every boom, something shakes loose inside of me. My head aches and the screeching in my ears is driving me insane. I collapse on the ground holding my ears, begging for it to stop. At my side, I can feel Victor next to me, holding on to my body. I hear his voice in the distance, but I can’t respond, I can’t even make out what he is saying.

  Grasping at my dress, I brace myself as the dam that my mind has built to shelter me from harm has broken and the memories begin flooding my head. They are so fresh and so painfully raw, the images they cast are hauntingly real. At first, just small pieces flash before my eyes, and then, suddenly I remember everything, even the parts that I desperately tried to forget.

  Alone, shivering in the dark, empty confines of my own mind I sit and wait for an answer. All the senses of the outside world have been effectively blocked from me; I am emersed in my final memories of life. Flickers of images throughout my life pass by until they stop on Victor’s smiling face the night this all began. I stare up at his image, waiting for it to do something, and then, like a film reel on a big screen, that night begins to play out in front of my eyes.

  Victor and I were at a bonfire with friends to celebrate our upcoming wedding; I had a little too much wine. Filling giddy and warm I took off my cloak. Our friends came up and congratulated us, each wishing us the best in our new life together. Victor had his arm draped over my shoulder, looking proud at what we were about to do tomorrow. Every chance he got he stated how he’s been waiting for this moment his entire life, and how he always knew I would be his wife. The smile on his face could light up an entire room and melt the largest snow drifts in Siberia.

  It was getting late, the bonfire had reduced itself to a smoldering pile of cinder, and I finally realized how sleepy I was. Grabbing my cloak, I bid my friends a farewell. I wanted to get enough beauty sleep, so I looked good for my wedding in the morning. I gave Victor a kiss and told him I would see him in a few hours, but he insisted on making sure I got home safe. At first, I protested, but I was a sucker for his charms and quickly gave in. Giving our friends a final wave goodbye we slowly headed home, taking extra time to enjoy each other’s company.

  The dirt country road was packed down with a fine white powder that crinkled under our feet as we walked deeper into the night. I pointed out the prints of sleighs and horse hoofs which had drawn intricate patterns on the white canvas. While most were hours old, some of them had been made recently. My arm was hooked around Victor’s, and I was leaning my head on his shoulder as we walked. It was a happy time for us both so we smiled and laughed, both of us excited for what the next day would bring and the new journey we were about to start.

  Rounding the corner by the rectory, Victor stopped, grabbing me into his warm embrace he spun me around merrily. Taking me by the hand he pulled me into a field on the banks of the river, hugging me from behind so we could look at the stars together. His finger pointed up to the sky above our heads, my eyes trailed upward, making my head tilt back against his chest. In awe I saw what he was pointing to, a shooting star was streaking its way across the night sky.

  Leaning in closer, Victor whispered in my ear, tickling my flesh with his warm breath. He told me I should make a wish on the falling start if I wanted it to come true. I did just that, I wished for the one thing I always wanted, for Victor and I to be together forever. Turning me around he wrapped his arms around my waist, bringing me in close to give me a deep kiss. I didn’t know how he did it, but he always took my breath away. There was a mischievous glimmer in those green eyes, but he only smirked and said he hopes we wished for the same thing. With a playful snicker, I told him I was sure we have, after all, we were made for one another.

  Caressing my face, Victor pointed his hand at the church behind us. I admired the simple beautify of the house of God, thinking how glorious the Lord had been for blessing me with the man standing at my side. Nuzzling my neck, he told me that tomorrow we would make all our dreams com
e true, and I responded to him by saying I could not wait. The crooked smile on his face was contagious, and in a few hours, I would be able to get intoxicated from it anytime I wanted.

  Victor placed his hand on the small of my back, and we turned around to walk back to the road. A few meters in front of us I spotted a shrouded figure standing by the road. Thinking it might be one of the sisters I raised my hand to greet them when a thunderous crack shook the silence around us. There was a bright flash at the same time as the sound, barely light enough to give me a glimpse of the figure in the road. I couldn’t make out all the details, but I could see it was a woman. She was very tall and slender, with pale skin that almost glowed under her black dress and black cloak, a long strand of blond hair flowed down the dark fabric. Then there were her eyes; there was something unnatural about them, they were opaque, almost glowing with the light of the moon.

  There was a sudden, burning pain in my bosom; I was cemented in place trying to figure out what was happening. Did I get hit by something or did I just have too much to drink at the party and was just now starting to feel sick. I glanced back over at the road, but the figure was no longer there, it had vanished into the night. The dizziness hit me out of nowhere; the whole world began to tilt and whirl before my eyes. I was having a hard time standing; my legs felt like they have been turned to rubber as my knees wobbled under my skirt.

  For some strange reason, I was unable to get a breath in. Heat was radiating from burning spot in my chest, spreading around my entire body. A nauseating feeling began to fester in my stomach, I feel like I was going to throw up, but nothing was coming up. Instinctively, I placed a hand on the spot where the pain was strongest; it felt oddly wet, sticky, and warm even. Gradually I pulled my hand away from my chest so I could look at what was on it, it began to tremble in terror as soon as my brain started to register what had happened.

  The palm of my hand was covered in a viscous garnet colored substance. This was blood, my blood. I think I had been shot by the woman in the road. But why, why would anyone want to shoot me? Timidly, I looked down at the spot my hand was on a moment earlier. My scarlet dress had a dark, burgundy spot forming on its center, spreading like a rose in July. Clutching to the gunshot wound, a panic had taken over my entire body, I thought about how I was going to die, there was no way I could survive this.

  Petrified I tried to speak, but I couldn’t get my vocal cords to work. I felt something warm on the corner of my lips; I thought I was bleeding from my mouth. At my feet, the crimson drops were starting to color the clean snow like rouge did to a maiden’s lips. I looked up at Victor; his face had turned pale as his eyes filled with alarm. No longer able to stand I gave in to the vertigo and collapsed into his arms. Gently he lowered me to the snow-covered ground and brushed my bangs out of my face. He was stroking my hair, I could tell his hands were shaking, but he told me not to worry, he was going to go wake Father Sokolov up to help me.

  I realized he was only trying to comfort me, I could feel my soul slipping out of my body, but I just nodded, clinging to the hope that everything would turn out alright. Victor stood and began to run into the direction of the monastery; loose powder flew behind him making it appear as smoke. He was not the only thing moving though; I caught something move out of the corner of my eye, darting through the shadows. Gritting my teeth, I forced myself to turn over onto my stomach so I could get a better look at the figure.

  Whatever it was, it was moving at superhuman speed. At first, I thought it may have been an animal, but it was far too large, and it was walking upright. Trailing the shape with my eyes, I tried to see what direction it was moving in, that’s when I realized it was headed for Victor. I needed to warn him, I tried to scream, but nothing came out. Painfully, I forced the brisk air to fill my lungs and let out everything I had, that time the only thing to come out of me was a gurgling sound as I choked on my own blood.

  In a flash, the figure had dissented on top of Victor, sidestepping instantly in front of him, something silver flickered with the moon in its hand. An anguished scream echoed through the clearing; it could only belong to Victor. By some divine miracle, I began to see the scene clearly before me; the cloaked figure was holding on to Victor, biting down on his neck. The woman’s hood had slipped off her head; her long hair trailed down Victors back. She looked up at me with those horrible white eyes, I knew her, it was Nadia. Her eyes sparkled as she kept holding on to his limp body, but that was not the Nadia I knew, she was different, scary even.

  Dropping Victor’s body, she stepped away from him and wiped his blood from her face. I noticed Nadia was still holding the silver object in her hand. It was shining as the pale beam from the moon graced its slender surface. A dagger, it was a silver dagger, and it was dripping with Victor’s blood. Nadia lifted the dagger up to her lips. With a wicked grin, she seductively licked his blood off the blade, leisurely running the edge straight across her tongue. Licking her lips, she tucked the dagger into the waistline of her dress. Looking on at us, she stood smirking in the gloom.

  On the ground, across from me, Victor lay bleeding. Propping himself up, he looked over at me, and I stretched my hand out to him. Digging his fingers into the snow, he began pulling himself gradually along the field as he was desperately trying to crawl over to me. I tried lifting my body up from my spot, but by then I had lost too much blood, I fell back on to the frozen ground, defeated. My strength had abandoned me, and I no longer felt the pain from the gunshot. I knew what this meant; I was going to die any minute now.

  There was no way I could go out like this, not without him. If this was how I was going to die, I wanted to be close to Victor. If it had to end, then I wanted to die by his side, we needed to be together. Hopelessly I stretched my hand to him as a last resort, but he was just beyond my reach as he was reaching back for me. To my dismay, the life started to fade from his eyes. I closed my eyes out of exhaustion; tears froze on my face as they escaped the corners of my eyes.

  To my right, I could make out the sound of the snow crunching below someone’s feet. Using up the last ounce of strength that remained, I cracked open my eyes the best I could and strained into the distance. The world was a blur then, I could barely see any details, but I could still make out Victor’s body. Nadia was next to him, holding up his head, she had something dripping from her wrist into his mouth. Was it blood, was she making him drink her blood?

  Victor’s body began to twist as he howled in agony, it looked like he was being broken apart and glued back together. I could barely tell what was happening, I thought his skin was begging to grow pale, and his canines were becoming longer, more pointed. My soul was starting to detach from my body, I could feel it attempting to pull away, but I refused to let go, I needed to see what happened next. Picking up Victor’s body, Nadia effortlessly carried him over to a sleigh waiting nearby, hidden behind the turn in the road. A great dark shadow lingered at her side; black tentacles stroked Victor’s head.

  With a merry jingle of bells, the sleigh, with Nadia and Victor vanished into the night. The dark mist briefly came close to me; I could see Prussian blue lanterns in what I thought was its head. I could hear it sniffing me before it rumbled with a roaring laugh, and rushed away after the sleigh. A single tear ran down my cheek; I could feel it sting as it froze to my skin. In the distance, I heard Father Sokolov’s voice growing closer to me as he was rushing through the snow. I closed my eyes for the last time, and then I could feel and hear no more. The pain of the bullet left me earlier, but my soul had filled with a deeper pain, the pain of losing Victor, and this pain was not letting go.

  I don’t believe this; I saw it all that night, I forced myself to watch as Nadia turned Victor into the thing he is today. All this time I had known what he was, it’s just that my mind blocked it from me. Subconsciously, I must have known, why else would I keep up the search for Victor if deep down I didn’t know he was still alive. This means the octopus thing from the city has known about us for a long wh
ile. Has it been waiting for us to be reunited this whole time? Remembering Nadia’s arrogant gaze, the eve she stole Victor from me, I finally understand it all.

  That’s why I could not remember what happened that night; my mind did it’s one last act of kindness to protect me. The pain of losing Victor and my undying love for him was enough to keep me bound forever to this life, though I would have been held back regardless. No, it was my love for Victor that saved me as I longed for him with my dying breath. Had my last thoughts not been of him, had I not died yearning for his touch, I would have breathed my last breath angry, hell-bent on revenge. I would have still been reborn as a spirit, but I would not have come back as a ghost. Instead, I’d be doomed to a life as a wraith.

  I’ve only heard rumors from other ghosts about wraith. Most spirits dare not speak of the evil, deformed, vengeful spirits who roam the earth after a gruesome death. These beings cannot rest until they extract their revenge on the person who wronged them in life. They don’t even resemble the being whose body they once use to inhabit; their misshapen shell barely passes for even being human.

  Supposedly, they will spend their time feasting off the negative emotions of other, feeding on their soul energy like vampires. With every soul drained, they grow stronger, more deformed in the process as if they are being remolded by their hatred. If they don’t find peace in their time in this realm, they are fated to have the darkness swallow them whole, never to be seen in any realm again. By some miracle, I was spared from such fate, or maybe even by some divine intervention.