Beyond the Forest

Andrei had pulled me aside after dinner and told me not to put any weight in his grandmother's words. He told me how her stroke had erased parts of her memory, and how her imagination now filled in the blanks. He said there probably had been a girl, and he believed that something terrible had happened in that house. But he did not believe it was anything supernatural, just one more of the many horrors the Second World War had spawned.

He reminded me that there was no such thing as vampires, werewolves or ghosts. And he insisted there was no such thing as witches either, no matter what I wanted to believe.

But I knew the next morning I'd be returning to the circle of stones, and I didn't plan on coming back until I'd found the witch or her servant. And as I lay back and closed my eyes I imagined a girl with haunting eyes waiting at the edge of the woods, watching, and a dark man beside my wife's bed, waiting and watching her too.

* * *

When I opened my eyes the bedroom was dark. The room was unnaturally cold and, shivering, I turned toward the window to see if it was open.

She was standing there, the girl from the photo, looking as if she'd stepped directly from it and into my room. Standing in the shadows with her black shawl wrapped around her shoulders and a black scarf wound around her face, watching me with the same haunting eyes.

"Who dreams of Matusa Ildiko?" she whispered, and the moonlight shone in her silvery-gray eyes.

I tried to answer but the paralysis of the night before had returned and had me in its grip again. I tried to move and felt hidden hands seize me, pinning me to the bed. And for the first time, I realized I was completely naked.

She stepped from the shadows, letting the moonlight caress her as she approached the bed. I didn't even need to look, but as I tilted my head forward I saw my cock was embarrassingly erect. Her eyes lingered on it and then she shrugged her shoulders and her shawl slipped to the floor.

She was completely nude underneath and the full moon highlighted every curve. I couldn't help watching her as she glided forward, her steps a whisper against the floorboards as she kneeled on the bed and it sighed under her weight.

My gaze slid across the arch of her back and the curve of her breast as she reached out and dragged her fingernail across my pale thigh.

I gasped at the sensation and she turned to stare at me with those haunting eyes, her face still hidden behind the scarf wrapped around her like a shroud. "Who dreams of Matusa Ildiko?" she whispered again.

I tried to force out an answer, but only a strangled moan escaped my lips. She turned her attention back to the hardness between my thighs and, as she brushed her soft fingertips delicately along my length, my back arched uncontrollably in desire, my body aching for her touch.

She glided onto the bed, sensuously sliding her leg across mine as she straddled me. Her hand was between us, caressing me as she watched my eyes. And in the moonlight her pale skin seemed ethereal.

I knew I had to be dreaming, she kept telling me so, but the dream seemed so real. Her scent filled my senses, a mixture of morning dew and wildflowers. And the feel of her soft, silky skin against my thighs as she slowly rocked her hips back and forth, rubbing her velvety mound against me, was like nothing I'd ever dreamed of.

She leaned forward and pressed her breast against my mouth. My tongue, drawn toward it like a magnet, flicked lightly across her nipple. And as I savored the sweet sensation she leaned close and whispered a third time: "Who dreams of Matusa Ildiko?"

I twisted my head away from her breast, fighting to answer her; trying to tell her how desperately I needed to find her mistress.

But I'd been rendered mute and was powerless as she sat up, still straddling me, and reached behind her as she guided me to her opening. Once I was in position, she lowered herself and sighed as we became one.

The sensation of being inside her seemed so real, yet at the same time so unreal. I'd never felt anything like it. The way her body caressed me as she bounced up and down, her flesh shimmering in the moonlight as she rode my swollen cock, was the stuff of dreams.

And as she increased her pace, working toward a crescendo, she reached up and slowly started to unwind her dark scarf.

Her haunting eyes were locked on mine, and as I watched they slowly started to glow with an eerie green aura. From somewhere deep inside I felt an ancient fear, rising to the surface, warning me to avert my eyes. But I couldn't, her own eyes had already made me their prisoner. I tried to twist my body, tried to turn my face away but she was on top of me, riding me, controlling me.

Mesmerized by those bewitching eyes, unable to look away, I watched as something spawned in their depths, something sinister. But as she pulled the scarf away the malevolence in her eyes suddenly faded, and became unexpectedly soft.

The scarf fell beside the bed and I was gazing into the dark, brown eyes of the woman I loved. The witch's servant was gone and my wife was above me, her hands on my chest and a smile on her lips as she rode me. I went to speak her name but she pressed her finger to my lips to stop me, and then leaned forward and whispered.

Wake up!

I sat bolt upright in the bed and reached my arm out as if she was still there, as if I could wrap it around her waist and pull her close to me. But she was gone; she'd never been there. It had all been a dream, a painfully real dream. My still stiff cock throbbed and my heart ached as I looked around the room, and realized I was alone.

The house was quiet. Outside the window, the first fragments of dawn were piercing the darkness. I sat on the edge of the bed unable to forget the dream. I knew it was my wife's face I'd seen but also knew, before the scarf had fallen away, that there was no way that had been her body. And when she'd been riding me...I'd made love to my wife thousands of times, but never like that.

Don't get me wrong, I'm not saying my dream lover was better, just different. I can honestly say that my wife is the best lover I've ever had, because she's been the only one. We met in high school and, when the time was right, we were both each other's first. We were married within two years and, in nearly ten years of marriage, neither of us has ever had a desire or a reason to stray.

I think when the stroke happened, when she was hospitalized and became comatose and the doctors warned us that there was a significant chance she'd never come out of it, both our family and our friends wondered if I would find someone else. In fact, I think they almost hoped for it, seeing my inconsolable grief.

But I'd never even considered it. Not counting my sister and my mother-in-law, my wife was the only woman in my life, the only woman I'd ever wanted in my life, until now.

I knew the dream had been a message, Matusa Ildiko had sent her servant to visit me in my sleep. She knew I was looking for her, and I was determined to find her. I knew now more than ever that the gypsy's words were true, and that once I found the witch I was hunting my wife and I would finally be together again.

I went to the window, hoping to see a young girl with haunting eyes watching me from the edge of the woods. No one was there, but I was surprised to see a thin dusting of snow had fallen during the night, the first breath of the winter that was coming. And I was surprised to see a light.

The front door was ajar downstairs and the glow from inside the cottage spilled out onto the snow, creating a bright quadrangle that stretched into the night and pointed toward the woods like an arrow. And in that light I noticed something else -- footprints.

I threw my pants on and grabbed my socks and shirt. I hurried past Andrei's room, careful not to wake him this time, and tiptoed down the stairs. I pulled on the rest of my clothing, tied my shoes and hurried into the night, following the footprints like a trail of bread crumbs.

It didn't take long to see who'd made them. Andrei's grandmother was far ahead of me, shuffling through the dark, skeletal beech trees with a bundle under her arm. Seeing her wrapped in her thick black shawl reminded me that I'd forgotten to bring a jacket, but the morning cold didn't bother me; my entire being was aflame with the hope that she might lead me to the servant of Matusa Ildiko.

I caught up with her easily but made sure to keep my distance as she picked her way through the trees. Eventually, she made her way to the circle of stones. She reverentially laid her package in the center, opening it to reveal a loaf of bread and a half-full bottle of brandy. She spoke a few words in Romanian to the stones around her, bowed in thanks and then went back the way she came, a satisfied smile on her wizened face.

She didn't notice me, hidden behind a tree as she passed, and I waited there, shivering in the early morning gloom as the sun rose over the Carpathians and the first daggers of dawn stabbed through the conifers, casting the forest floor in an iridescent glow. The light dusting of snow soon melted and the sounds of the forest waking were all around me, yet still the package sat unclaimed at the center of the stone circle. I'd waited more than an hour, the cold numbing my feet as I rubbed my arms and rocked back and forth, cursing myself for not bringing my jacket.

But I stayed there, waiting, watching for the girl, watching for anyone. And then I heard the first gunshot. I started as it echoed through the trees and a flurry of hidden birds burst from the canopy above me, fleeing to safety. Seconds later, two more shots rang out in quick succession.

They came from my right and I peered in that direction, trying to determine how far away they'd been. I was startled to see something crashing through the trees toward me, and ducked back as a huge brown bear lumbered into the clearing. It roared in pain toward the heavens, blood pouring from its snout, and then collapsed in the center of the stone circle like a sacrifice.

The bear's eyes were half open and its breath was shallow. I spotted two gaping wounds in its left shoulder and knew it was dying. I came out of hiding and stepped cautiously toward it, ready to run if it tried to make one last fatal lunge before death came. But the beast, resigned to its fate, barely noticed me.

I moved closer, awed by the once mighty beast's size and, as its majestic coat rose and fell for the last time, saddened by its demise. I was stretching my hand out to touch its fur when I heard a faint step behind me.

I wheeled around, expecting to see a young girl with haunting eyes, and was shocked to see a rifle aimed right at my face.

I threw my hands up protectively and tried to duck away from where he was aiming. But he stepped nearer, screaming in Romanian as he pressed the cold barrel of the muzzle against my temple.

I froze with my hands in the air, desperate not to make any movement that might alarm him. "Please, I -- I don't know what you want!"

He ignored me as he kept screaming instructions in Romanian and kept the weapon pressed against my skull. As he forced me to my knees, three more men entered the clearing.

"Please," I said, glancing toward them, "I don't want to cause any trouble. Does anyone speak English?"

No one answered, but one of the men hurried toward the man holding me captive and barked at him angrily as he pushed the rifle away from me.

"Thank you," I said, sighing in relief. I went to stand, but the man who'd helped me turned and placed his hand on my shoulder, letting me know to remain where I was.

He spoke calmly to me in Romanian while the first man stood behind him, glaring at me.

"I'm sorry, I don't understand. I'm American."

He nodded, and then pointed to where I was kneeling. "Stay."

I stayed there, on my knees with the first man guarding me while the second man went to check on their companions' progress.

They were obviously poachers and I watched their grim handiwork as they used an axe, long knives and a rusted saw to dismember the dead bear, removing his head and his paws first before eviscerating him and slashing through his entrails to get at the precious organs hidden inside.

I looked away, unable to watch the senseless carnage, but looked up again as the man who'd told me to stay returned. He spoke to me in Romanian, but his meaning was clear. He and the other two men who'd been butchering the bear would be leaving with their illegal bounty, but the first man would be staying and guarding me while they were gone.

"Stay," he said, pointing at the ground, and then went to help the other two carry their heavy load.

I was still on my knees with my hands in the air, not sure if I was allowed to let them down or not. The man guarding me had a smirk on his face as he watched me while his accomplices disappeared through the trees with their bloody bounty.

I wasn't sure if he was guarding me until they returned or if he was just watching me until they were far enough away, in case I tried to alert the authorities. I just hoped, as I glanced at the mutilated beast in the center of the clearing, that there wasn't a third option.

My arms were dead tired from holding them up, and I asked if I could put them down. He answered me by raising his rifle. But then I realized he wasn't aiming at me, he was aiming at someone behind me.

I looked back over my shoulder and my heart leapt when I saw her. She looked exactly as she had in the old black and white picture, exactly as she had in my dream -- the servant of Matusa Ildiko.

I had no idea whether it was Andrei's grandmother's offering or the appalling butchery in that sacred place that had summoned her, but she was there. She stepped into the clearing with a black shawl wrapped around her and a loosely wound black scarf hiding her face.

The poacher barked at her in a low, menacing tone, gesturing with his rifle for her to put her hands up. But she ignored him as she walked toward the carcass of the fallen beast and kneeled beside it, stroking its blood-soaked but still shining coat as if to comfort it.

The poacher moved around me, keeping his gun leveled as he growled orders at her in Romanian. For the first time she seemed to notice him and she stood up, judging him with those haunting eyes.

He said something else to her and she shook her head no. He repeated his order again, his gestures making it obvious that he wanted her to remove her scarf, and she shook her head no again.

He was becoming more and more agitated, yelling at her as she glared at him defiantly from above her scarf. He suddenly raised his rifle to his shoulder, aiming it at her, and I leapt to my feet.

"Hey! You got what you wanted. Leave her alone!"

He pivoted, aiming the rifle at me, and then quickly trained it back on the girl. But not before I'd noticed his eyes. Something had changed in them; the menace I'd seen earlier had been replaced by a hunger.

He suddenly stepped toward the girl, lowering his rifle as he grabbed her scarf and yanked it down. She shrieked as she turned her face to hide it but she was too late, he'd already seen it.

His hand had been in the way, blocking my view, but whatever he'd seen had seemed to momentarily stun him. He stared at her, his mouth agape as she spun away and tried to pull her scarf back into place.

Thinking this was my chance I lunged at him, hoping to grab his rifle, but he was too fast. He sidestepped me as he pulled the rifle back and then drove it forward, crunching the butt into the side of my jaw and snapping my head sideways.

My legs buckled beneath me and I crumpled to the ground, and the last thing I heard before darkness overwhelmed me was the servant of Matusa Ildiko, screaming.

* * *

I'm not sure how long I was out, but when I opened my eyes to bright sunlight my head was pounding from the shot I'd taken. The clearing was quiet, except for the sound of the flies buzzing around the bear's remains. I pushed myself to my feet and realized my left hand was sticky with blood, which surprised me because the beast's butchered body was to my right.

I glanced to my left and horror seized me as I realized where the blood had come from. I scrambled backward, overcome with revulsion, and as I tripped and fell back to the floor of the clearing I frantically scrubbed my hand against the grass, trying to wipe the stain away.

My heart was pounding in my chest as I looked back to where the poacher lay dead, the rifle he'd used to hammer me unconscious lying beside him. His blood was pooled around his lifeless body like a halo and the sheer volume of it sent a second wave of revulsion through me.

I staggered to my feet, trying not to retch, and took a step closer to the body, a feast for the flies that buzzed around it. I half expected to see some sort of gunshot wound but quickly realized where the blood had come from.

The thick lines of black blood around his mouth, nose, ears and eyes were like a roadmap, showing that was where his life had spilled away, pouring out of him in a torrent and soaking into the earth around him. His eyes were still open and his final horror, as he realized what fate had in store for him, was etched on his face like a funeral mask.

I stared at those lifeless eyes and remembered the last time I'd seen them, as he glared at me just before slamming his rifle into my face. And I remembered the wild, possessed look that had filled them, like I'd stepped between a wolf and his prey.

Remembering the girl I glanced around the clearing, but I'd already known she'd be gone. The scene was the same as Andrei's grandmother had described when the Iron Guard had come for her years earlier. And I knew that the witch had come once again to protect her servant.

I looked around the clearing, hoping for some sign of which direction they'd headed in. And that was when I heard voices, coming back toward the stone circle.

I knew it had to be the other three poachers returning, and I doubted that when they discovered their dead friend they'd believe my story that I hadn't killed him, a witch had.

I ducked down as I headed for the far side of the clearing, hurrying past the bundle left by Andrei's grandmother. The offering was untouched, but blood had soaked through the white cloth and into the bottom of the loaf of bread.

I ran into the woods knowing that the sane course of action was to return to Magura, both for my own safety and to alert the authorities to the slaughter in the forest. But I knew there was another life that needed saving, more important to me than my own. So I fled deeper into the forest, heading in the direction the girl had appeared from and hoping it would lead me to her mistress.

Behind me, I heard a cry of alarm as the poachers discovered their friend's dead body. Then I heard a shout and, looking back through the trees, realized they'd spotted me.

I ran, leaping over deadfalls and slapping branches away from my face as I fled higher up the mountain side. I could hear my pursuers behind me. They knew the forest better than I did and I knew it wouldn't be long before they caught up to me.

The route I was following appeared to be more of a game trail than an actual path, and as it led me around the base of a large rock outcrop, temporarily taking me out of their line of sight, I looked around desperately for a place to hide. I don't know how I spotted it, maybe it was luck or maybe it was fate, but I saw a small cave, its mouth almost completely concealed by underbrush.

I threw myself down headfirst and scrambled blindly through the opening on my belly, desperately hoping I wasn't crawling into a bear den or viper nest. I was barely inside when a voice hissed: "Careful!" Then I felt the floor fall away beneath me.