The Babayaga and the Boy (Short Story)

Another twig inserted onto his flesh. The boy removed the object trivially and continuously ran as though life would be ripped away at any given moment. Not a single second was dedicated to stopping track among the dense woods. “Come out guys!” screamed the boy in a hoarse voice. Then, the running suddenly stopped.

What was discovered was a large animal trap-like structure made of various sticks. The structure was large enough for any young child. A truly fascinating object could awaken so much admiration. Crawling down the structure like a predatory cat then staring at the infinite shadows plaguing from trees afar, something sharply punctured the back; paralysis struck. Shadows began swiftly spreading over from a distance away.

He woke up from glimmering light as his neck was locked and chained to a cold, wet concrete floor. He was so overcome by the chain’s weight and had no choice but to lie down with only faint daylight illuminating from thick wall cracks. His body was uncontrollably shaking from cold in a room among metal bars. Light completely disintegrated with the passage of time.

Awakened by clunking footsteps, a stoop-shouldered figure was approaching the cell. Petrified eyes were prepared to witness whatever even before the creature’s reveal. Illuminating light revealed an ancient human not clearly a woman nor a man with wrinkles so deeply imbedded in the flesh that they resembled clean cuts. The long white hair looked like stretched out cotton candy while the body was so very frail and boney that the brown rag did not serve its illusion of adding weight.

The kneeling creature screeched with a voice so thick it was almost definitely male. “Your snoring was pleasurable music.” From the long sleeves came out split chicken-like nails so very yellowed by time. The curved fingernails petted the boy’s chin delicately before moving upward to the ear awakening Goosebumps. “Such voluptuous black hair is an absolute blessing my dear. Take good care as it would be true shame to waste its life away.” Every whispering word brought forth an excruciating smell resembling rotting eggs. The creature caressed the disgusted, terrified boy before unchaining and then leading him up the screeching stairs. Even though there was an attempt at pulling away along with kicking, facing against such superhuman strength ultimately prevented any such rebellions.

In complete entirety the house built of wood largely covered in green mold. The only other objects were large dusty jars showcasing dead snakes inside greenish liquid or odd alien fruit barely fitting inside. A large ancient book with foreign inscriptions stood alone on a table. Nothing else was personalized in this dreadful home except for a hay bed barely managing to remain in place without falling apart.

He was forcibly placed on that table as yellowed claws descended onto shoulders. “What’s your name little pumpkin?” they asked pitifully and softly. The child remained silent for the time being as teeth were tightly clenched. “Tell me everything. How did such a nice young boy end up alone in such ugly woods?” He looked back at the creature with wide brown eyes no longer accompanying fear, but rather sorrow. The worn red-stripped shirt worn was stained by both grass and dirt inevitably met during the journey. “It would be a real shame to waste away,” concluded the hag.

Just as the creature slowly approached the boy did so as well with lips squeezed tightly together. He glared. The creature sulked. The two of them stared at each other silently. The light shining down through the wooden openings revealed green eyes resembling crystallized rocks in its depth. But such a poignant moment would come to a fast end once a fast-moving mixture of saliva and mucus struck it in the eye socket. Screams of agony began. The shrieking was so high-pitched it was as though true torment began. Perhaps the monster began to melt? The question of “why?” could be recognized among many inaudible sounds. The face was revealed, uncovered by white hair. It was the face of a fragile old woman in tears.

“Please don’t leave me, my friend.”


2 thoughts on “The Babayaga and the Boy (Short Story)

Add yours

  1. Hey! I’m so glad to hear that you enjoyed reading this! There won’t be a part 2 any time soon, but you definitely encouraged me to write about an event that takes place in the same universe, perhaps? 😉 Hope all is well.

    Take care.


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