Baba Yaga

“They… talked?” Milena’s eyes widened.

The Drekavac was ready to unleash a devastating screech directly at Dragomir at point-blank range.

The pocket watch kept ticking. Milena couldn’t know how much longer the slowdown would last, so she acted.

As she dashed toward Dragomir, the pocket watch slipped out of her hand, landing among the fallen leaves. She moved faster than the drop of saliva falling from his mouth.

Instead of pushing Dragomir out of the way, she pulled the Drekavac against her chest and sank to the ground with it in her arms.

“Mommy…! Look at me, mommy!” the creature cried.

“Shhh… it’s going to be fine… I’m here,” she soothed it.

The cries continued.

And the voices gradually rose in pitch again. But before the second hand stopped ticking, Milena sang.

Her smooth voice carried through the forest, her lovely tune drawing even the owls in.

The last creature’s cry rose into one final screech before falling silent.

Dragomir snapped back as his saliva finally reached the ground.

He toppled backward, landing on his back and panting.

“What… happened…?” His words caught in his throat. He gazed at the pocket watch on the ground. Just half a second ago, Milena had been standing there.

Now she was several steps away, hugging a Drekavac.

Milena kept singing. Two of the creatures curled up on the ground. Another sucked its thumb. All of them stayed quiet.

“You’re all such good boys.” Milena stopped singing and caressed the Drekavac’s horn. “And girls.”

Dragomir pressed a hand against his chest. “We’re not even in Prav yet and I’m already so beat up…”

“So what are we gonna do about them?” Milena asked.

“The trial is still on.” Dragomir rose to his feet, wheezing. “I don’t know what you did but… you can now make them follow us with your singing, right?”

Milena resumed her song.

Leshy’s straight path remained intact, making it easier to find their way back to the hut on the chicken leg.

As they approached the end of the road, the Drekavac slowed down. With every step, they trembled more.

“Dragomir.” Milena stopped, holding the creature tighter. “I don’t want this.”

“Me neither.” He lowered his head. “But we have no choice. You said they were begging for death.”

“Yeah but…” Milena’s voice cracked. “That awful woman robbed these little babies of their future. I can’t make them go through it again.”

“Listen. There are many kinds of spirits. But Drekavac seem to be suffering. Do you want them to continue existing like this?”

Milena’s lower lip quivered.

“Besides, look at me.”

She raised her eyes. Dragomir’s face was swollen and covered in bruises. He couldn’t even open his left eye.

“Intentionally or not...“ He coughed, wincing at his bruised ribs. “If you hadn't stepped in, they would've burst my eardrums. Or worse.”

“I know… but what do you suggest we do…?”

“Unfortunately, it’s too late for them. Their bodies weren’t buried properly\. Their dushe were never quelled, and so they returned from Nav. But you heard Leshy. That path is closed from this side.”

“Are you saying we should let Baba Yaga eat them again to release them from their suffering?” Milena finally gave in to her tears.

“We can’t save everybody. But once we reach Prav, we can secure the future of those still living.” Dragomir then rubbed his chin. “Hmmm… our goal is to rewrite the rules of this world. But maybe we can start writing now.”

A few minutes later, they emerged from the forest.

Dragomir led the way. Milena followed, carrying a soothed Drekavac against her chest.

Twelve more crawled behind them.

Zduhach sat beneath the hut, leaning against one of the chicken leg’s black claws, eyes closed and arms crossed. At the sound of footsteps, he immediately reached for his bow.

Then he saw them.

“Oh, it’s just you! And you brought those monsters, just as I thought!”

“They are not monsters!” Milena frowned at him.

“Where’s Baba Yaga?” Dragomir asked.

“Man, you look awful!” Zduhach didn’t pull any punches. “That old hag was talking nonsense about my father being ‘The Ancestor’, the god of the sun or whatever, so...”

They looked up. Five of Zduhach’s arrows were buried in the hut’s door.

“Baba Yaga!” Dragomir yelled. “Show yourself!”

The door slowly opened. Baba Yaga poked only her head outside. “Has that crazy son of a bitch calmed down?”

“You little-“

“Not yet.” Dragomir grabbed Zduhach’s arm as he reached for his bow. “Not until she accepts.”

Baba Yaga yanked the arrows free and tossed them inside, then reached for her cauldron. The chicken leg knelt, lowering the porch toward the ground. “Now, hand over those delicious babies.”

Milena instinctively stepped back, squeezing the Drekavac tighter.

Dragomir placed his hand on her shoulder, shaking his head.

Her brows furrowed as she took a reluctant step toward Baba Yaga.

When only a few paces separated them, the witch tapped the cauldron. “Put that thing inside.”

Milena flinched. But she obeyed.

The little creature squirmed inside, still trembling.

“Oh I can’t wait to try those crunchy horns of yours.” Baba Yaga drooled.

Milena glared at her. “You’re disgusting.”

Baba Yaga opened the door and gestured for the others to follow.

Milena crouched to the Drekavac’s eye level. “You can go now. Just remember what I said.”

One by one, they crawled into the hut.

Once all thirteen were inside, Baba Yaga slammed the door shut.

Milena dropped to the ground and sank her head between her knees.

“What now?” Zduhach asked.

“We wait till she cooks them. Or so she thinks, right, Milena?” Dragomir smirked.

Milena raised her head. “Die, you stupid old hag.”

SKREEEEEEE!

The hut’s windows exploded.

Baba Yaga’s screams joined theirs. The chicken leg jumped wildly beneath the hut. “You’ll never reach Prav as long as I’m alive, you filthy humans!” Her voice cut through the shrieks.

“Our deal was to bring you the flesh of a newborn human!” Dragomir yelled back. “You never said we had to let you eat it!”

“These things are no longer humans! The deal is off!”

“You didn’t mind just a few minutes ago!”

She burst through the door, bloody and bruised. “Hut on the Chicken Leg, turn your back on Dragomir!”

The leg leapt and spun the hut around until the door faced the other side of the forest.

Metal crashed and glass shattered inside.

“What’s she doing?” Zduhach asked.

“Dragomir was right. They really are stronger than her.” Milena was lost in her own thoughts.

“She’s being petty.” Dragomir smirked. “The door won’t open for us unless the hut faces us.”

“Then we’re screwed! She controls it!”

“And who says only she can?” Dragomir stomped. “Hut on the Chicken Leg, turn your face to me!”

The Chicken Leg leapt and spun. It faced the same direction again.

“Hut on the Chicken Leg, turn your back on Dragomir!” Baba Yaga yelled. A painful scream followed.

The hut spun away again. As it leapt, one Drekavac tumbled through a broken window.

Dragomir sprinted forward and slid across the grass, catching it. “Got you!”

“We have to do something about that leg!” Milena looked at Zduhach.

Without a word, he fired.

The arrow pierced the chicken leg, forcing it to kneel. The sudden drop hurled Baba Yaga through a broken window.

She hit the ground hard.

“Curse you…” Blood spilled from her mouth. The Drekavac lined up along the porch.

One after another, they screamed.

Dragomir, Milena, and Zduhach dropped to the ground and covered their ears.

The one that Dragomir had caught leapt onto Baba Yaga’s chest.

Nothing but a gurgling sound escaped her throat. Before the Drekavac could draw another breath, Baba Yaga closed her eyes with one final wheeze.

But the creature was still about to scream directly into her face. Milena dashed toward it and pulled it into her arms, calming it down. “It’s fine… that murderer is gone now.”

The Drekavac curled up in Milena's embrace.

Dragomir and Zduhach climbed onto the porch and waited for Milena to join them. With Baba Yaga gone, the Chicken Leg no longer moved away. It simply stood still.

The trio entered the hut.

Shards of glass and broken plates littered the floor. Chairs lay shattered around an overturned table.

“My arrows!” Zduhach carefully gathered them, counted them, and returned them to his quiver.

Milena set the Drekavac down on a half-torn couch. “I know it still hurts. But I promise we’ll find a way to make it stop. Just hang on.” She gently caressed two of them.

“So what do we do now, Debilmir?”

Dragomir opened the iron door of an oven. “We go inside.” He pushed the Little Table through the enormous door.

Zduhach and Milena blinked.

But before they could say anything, Dragomir grabbed their hands and dove inside headfirst, pulling them with him.

“H-hey, wait!” Milena protested. But it was too late.

And just like that, Dragomir found himself in the middle of nowhere. Nothing but mist surrounded him.

“I’m so glad you decided to come back, Drago.”

That oily voice could send shivers down anyone’s spine.

“Veles.”

Chapter 19: END