Page 4 of Buried Souls
“Best stay away from that place, Elena,” she says. “In fact, don’t go wandering off into the woods at all if you know what’s good for you. There have been strange sightings lately near the Bear Mansion, I wouldn’t want you to get hurt. Or worse.” She slides open the panels and before I can form a cohesive response, vanishes, as if into thin air.
I blink. Then again, wondering if I had imagined the whole interaction.
A flash of gold in the corner of my eye catches my attention. Curious, I inch closer to the object lying on the plush seat, its bright luster blinding me in the dimly lit space.
“Wait!” I jump, bolting through the cabin doors, the priceless locket clutched in my hand as my fingers strain against the intricately carved metal, careful not to drop it. “Wait! Olga! You forgot your—” The words lodge in my throat when I see no sign of the elderly woman. “Where did she go?” Rushing to the window, I halt in my tracks.
The crow is gone.
A vague blood smear of where its body was is the only proof that it ever existed and wasn’t something that was entirely conjured up by my overactive imagination.
I grimace in disgust while getting back to the task at hand of locating my missing co-passenger, and plaster myself onto the glass, squinting in an attempt to make out the familiar form ofthe old lady that I had been sharing the same space with for the past hour or so.
A thick veil of fog hovers around the train, making it almost impossible to distinguish between the many forms slithering around in the darkening day.
“Well, I guess that’s that then.” My gaze drifts down to the delicate piece of jewelry still wrapped up in my palm. “I’ll just have to hold on to this until I see her again.” I twirl the trinket between my fingers, head spinning with possibilities. “Or, I could run after her and return it to her now. I mean, how far could she have gone? She’s barely capable of walking, for Christ’s sake.”
A fragile bud of hope springs forth in my chest: perhaps if I catch up with her, she will be grateful enough to tell me more about this Bear Mansion, and I can finally finish my dissertation and go home.
Feeling a sudden burst of inspiration, I grab my leather duffel bag and bolt through the doors just in time before the train starts to move again. Leaping onto the wooden platform as the wind whips my hair onto my face, I take a moment to inspect my barely visible surroundings.
A moderately sized charcoal stone building stands twenty feet in front of me, flanked by rows of equally murky looking stone pillars, their base embellished with engravings of forest nymphs and vines that stretch over the building’s facade, as if spilling over onto the wall itself.
A substantial grandfather clock is located to the right of me, its ancient looking pendulum swinging wildly in the wind, convincing me that it would surely be ripped out of its encasing should the weather not ease up soon.
Glancing around, it strikes me that I’m standing completely alone in the heavy mist, not a single soul in sight with the train having departed already.
I frown, nose scrunching up from irritation. “That’s just great. What am I supposed to do now?” A flash of red catches my eye. I turn, hope blossoming in my chest at the familiar sight. “A cab! Oh, thank God!”
I run for the vehicle while shoving Olga’s locket into my coat pocket, not wanting to waste a single moment lest the man drive away without me.
“Good evening sir,” I chirp, climbing into the back. “Can you take me to a motel, please?”
The driver swings around in his seat, his deep brown eyes locking on me and my disheveled appearance.
“No motel,” he grumbles, his heavy accent making him hard to understand. “Only village.” Putting the car into gear, he starts to pull out of the railway station.
“Wait, where are we going?” I clutch my bag, apprehension creeping into my system as we leave the lit surroundings and make our way into the gloomy unknown. “I haven’t told you where to take me. Wait!”
Muttering under his breath, the robust male ignores me. The rain begins anew, the droplets turning into pea sized pearls of water that crash down onto the car, making maneuvering the vehicle an almost impossible task.
I remain still as a statue, my nerves getting the best of me as I examine the many sights through the drenched car window. Massive, prehistoric looking beech trees loom towards the sky, their forms casting sinister shadows across the fog covered ground. Moss with toadstools that sporadically spring forth between the cracks in the bark, cover their thick trunks. Like ghosts from an old wives tale, the mist parts right before my eyes, swirling in an almost ritualistic dance while the storm rages on around us.
Jaw on the floor, disbelief floods me. It appears as if the night has leaked into the mist, staining the pristine droplets andturning them into ebony beads of ink that seem to hover in the air, as if being held up by invisible threads.
The car jerks to a stop, propelling me into the back of the driver’s seat, and I rub my forehead, certain that a beautiful blue bruise will mark the spot by the end of the day.
“We no go.” The driver spits, already out of the car. “Tires stuck. Mud too deep.” He kicks the wheel in question, cursing like a sailor. “I get help. You, stay here.”
“What—” I yelp, jumping out of the vehicle, the man already halfway down the road by the time my feet find purchase on solid ground. “You can’t just leave me here! Hey, come back!”
“You be fine!” he shouts, his massive back turned to me, not even bothering to turn around. “No go into woods. Stay in car.”
I watch as the burly male disappears out of sight, the trees swallowing up his giant form.
“Perfect, just what I needed.”
A wolf howls somewhere behind me, causing the tiny hairs on the back of my neck to stand on end.
