Folksburywoods Story Blog

“If you weren’t my brother, I would box you about the ears,” said Agatha.

“I tell you that thing is as real as you, and it tried to kill me,” replied her brother.

Timothy had been on his way home from the field the previous night when a large beast lunged at him from beneath the bridge.

“Money is tight,” snapped his sister. “Going off and spending it on drink because a wild dog scared you is no excuse.”

“This beast was no wild dog, look at the rip in my shirt,” said Timothy.

Agatha examined the enormous hole in her brother’s shirt and knew no dog could have caused it.

“Did you get a good look at it?” asked Agatha in a caring tone.

“Only its teeth and eyes, which were the size of tea saucers,” said Timothy.

Timothy shivered as he described the creature. Downing the remaining ale in his mug, Timothy called for another pint.

“Drinking is not going to solve this. Come, let’s go home and talk to Grand Mama,” said his sister.

The siblings talked as they made their way home. Timothy sped up the pace as he approached the spot where he had been attacked.

“Sit down and I’ll make you a hot cup of tea, then I’ll fetch Grand Mama,” said Agatha.

Timothy sat thinking about what had happened. He didn’t want to leave anything out when he described it to his grandmother.

“Tell me what you saw, boy, and leave nothing out, no matter how trivial,” said Grand Mama.

Tim said that as he approached the bridge, he smelled the scent of elderberries. It was early spring, and elderberries were still green.

“You sure, elderberries child?” said his grandmother with a furrowed brow.

“Yes, ma’am,” the boy replied.

“Volkolak,” said Grand Mama, who then walked and sat in her chair.

The siblings stared at each other, wondering what to do next.

“Girl, go fetch your parents from the barn. We need to talk. You boy, take those clothes off and burn them. Then go wash yourself with turpentine,” commanded the elder.

The elder explained to the family that a Volkolak was a shape-shifter. It would hunt down its prey using the victim’s scent.

“Lucky for you, boy, it did not get your blood, or we would be burying you. With the clothes burnt, it will not have anything to seek,” explained the woman.

“What is to be done to stop it?” her eldest asked.

“Nothing can be done but hope it moves on. Your father found out the hard way when he and some villagers attacked a Volkolak. All were slain,” said the woman.

That evening, the holly was hung above all the windows. They moved the holy icon in front of the door as an extra precaution.

“I will sit behind the icon tonight,” said Grand Mama. “If the beast should attempt to enter, use the ancient magic to drive it away.”

The rest of the family crawled up into the loft for safety.

“Agatha, please read from the book of light to help drive the dark one away,” said her father.

As the moon rose, the family waited to see if the Volkolak would seek out its prey.

“It comes,” said Grand Mama.

The sound of huge feet stomping across the earth could be heard. Then silence. Hearts slowed as the threat had passed.

Suddenly, the door burst open, revealing an enormous black beast. Its eyes glowed bright red, and drool dripped from its mouth in sickening globs.

“Out, demon, you have no power here. The ancestors rebuke you. The ancestors force you back to hell. Hell is from which you came,” cried the elder woman as she threw holy water in its direction.

The beast stood its ground, sniffing the air. Without warning, the Volkolak promptly turned and sped away.

“It could not smell your scent, boy. Lucky you burned your clothes,” said the elder. She rose from her chair and closed the door.

The following day, word came that a farmer in the next village had been torn apart. The villagers suspected a pack of wolves had done it.

“The Volkolak’s hunger has been satisfied for now. We must offer our thanks to the ancestors for their protection. Pray to the icon to keep the family safe in the future,” said the elder woman.

Timothy never again walked over the bridge after sunset. He did not want to tempt fate or the hunger of the Volkolak.

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