Haunted Village: The Midday Apparition

 A field of oats stretched out before them. The harvest was long over, leaving only ploughed earth behind. Any traces that might have remained at the spot where the girl died had long since vanished. The sun shone brightly overhead, signaling the approach of midday. Leontina looked around, but saw nothing but ploughed fields stretching to the horizon. The only landmark in the area was a tall windmill. When she turned, she could see Vavel on the opposite side of the mill, towering above the village in the distance.
They decided to head to the mill and explore the surrounding area. Just as they neared their destination, the wind picked up.
The field, which had been empty moments before, was now golden with stalks of grain. The sky turned azure and the sun shone brightly overhead.

Leontina stopped and looked back. Mozuta staggered and clutched at his head. Breathing heavily, he began to plead for water. Dargorad looked at the boy with disgust. He shielded himself from the scorching sun with a parasol-shaped black flame. He snapped his fingers and a similar parasol appeared over Leontina and Mozuta.

"You know what this means, don't you?" Dargorad asked Leontina, helping Mozuta move along.

The wind became even stronger.
The wheat stalks swayed violently in the breeze, like waves on the sea.

Leontina pursed her lips beneath her mask. That was the worst thing they could have come across today. She had been tasked with investigating Wawel’s cave, but she couldn’t bring herself to go in after hearing that there was a ghost roaming in the nearby village. 
Especially since someone died because of that spirit.
But this was no ordinary ghost.
“R-run to the mill as fast as you can!” she screamed, her voice filled with panic. Visually, the surroundings might have changed, but it was still the same place. Both Mozuta and chort could hide in the building.
After all, evil can’t enter the house uninvited.

Without hesitating, Dargorad grabbed Mozuta and threw him over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes, then ran to the mill. Leontina ran after them, glancing back over her shoulder as often as she could.

Amidst the grain stalks, the wind stirred up dust that gradually took the shape of a terrifying humanoid figure. It wore a long, tattered white dress that revealed its ragged calves and feet. The creature’s face was deeply creased and, instead of a mouth, it had a snout with huge fangs. Its eyes glowed like golden grain. Its long hair shared the same golden hue and was adorned with the only beautiful element of its appearance: a wreath of flowers.

Leontina clenched her fists. This was no ordinary apparition.
Before her was poludnica. It was a corrupted soul of a woman who had died just before or after her wedding, usually in cruel circumstances. Her spirit only appeared at high noon, tearing to shreds anyone who crossed her path. Sometimes she showed mercy, killing only by strangulation or paralysis.
But this was no time for jokes. Leontina knew that this spirit would not vanish until the person who had taken her life was punished.

She glanced towards the mill. Dargorad was already stepping inside, with Mozuta slung over his shoulder. She breathed a sigh of relief and started running towards them.
But she was too late.
The poludnica seized Leontina’s head in its long claws and tore it off with great force. It cast aside the head of its new victim and set about the rest of the body. First the right arm, then the left, then the legs.
Leontina was torn apart.

As soon as noon had passed and the sun was obscured by clouds, turning the sky from blue to a greyish hue that heralded approaching rain, the apparition vanished.
Looking out from the mill, Dargorad noticed that the girl hadn't managed to join them.
“Damn it!” he exclaimed, slapping Mozuta on the cheek to rouse him.
“What is it?” the boy asked, his senses returning as the glaring sun disappeared.
“I think your boss has been defeated,” he stated, running outside.
“What?!” Mozuta ran after him. A moment later, he froze when he saw Leontina’s torso lying on the ground. Her arms and legs were nearby, too. Her head was missing. A shiver ran down his spine.
“What happened?” he asked, trembling.
“It's a poludnica,” Dargorad declared. “A very powerful spirit. Fortunately, it only appears briefly at noon, but as you can see, the devastation it leaves behind is immense.” Dargorad crouched down beside Leontina’s dismembered body and picked up her arm. He examined it closely. “Your mistress is far from human, too,” he remarked, gathering up the remaining body parts.
“She’s a doll,” Mozuta revealed. He had decided that there was no point in hiding it. Although the body was torn apart, there wasn’t a single drop of blood at the scene, which was clear to see. Furthermore, despite it being daytime, the body had reverted to that of a doll and its joints were visible.
“I can see that much myself,” said Dargorad, as he began to reassemble Leontina’s body, joining the parts together. Once he had finished, he started looking around for her head. With a wave of his hand, he instructed Mozuta to search for it. The boy ran obediently across the field until he finally found the head, framed by dark locks. When he picked it up and looked at it, he was startled. The eyes were open, but the sockets were empty. He dropped it for a moment, but quickly caught it again. Dargorad ran over to him. Glancing at the doll’s face, he began to look around. Beside the spot where the head had lain, two pearly spheres rested on the ground.
“These must be the soul’s vessels,” he said as he picked them up. Dargorad took Leontina’s head from Mozuta and attached it to the rest of the body.
Mozuta watched the entire process very closely. He wondered if he might have to do something like that himself one day.
But how did the chort know what to do? He wondered.
Two pearls in particular caught Mozuta’s attention.
“You said that those are meant to be those soul vessels, right?” he asked.
“Yes, the doll won’t move without a soul. Some believe the eyes are the mirror of the soul, so that’s likely why it’s kept there,’”Dargorad explained.
“But there’s only one soul. And here you have two eyes,” noted Mozuta.
Chort looked at Mozuta. His face was devoid of expression, as cold as stone. “It would be best if you dumped those thoughts somewhere and never revisited them.”
Mozuta flinched. Had he said something wrong?
Dargorad placed the pearls into the doll’s eye sockets. The moment he did so, a silvery light enveloped the entire figure and, a moment later, the hooded, masked girl in a dress reappeared.

Leontina opened her eyes and sat up. Gently rubbing her temples, she looked at Mozuta, whose gaze held a mixture of worry and terror.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “I must have scared you.” She stroked the boy’s head.
Seeing this, Dargorad sighed. “Instead of apologising, you'd do better to be thankful for being put back together.”
Leontina turned towards the chort and bowed her head. “Thank you.”
“Well, you’re welcome. Now, I have some great news,” announced Dargorad. “Our little friend bumped into our would-be groom and his true love. It seems he was after the fortune. You know, win over the in-laws, get rid of his future wife, and then marry the woman he was actually interested in once he became the miller.” He stood up and reached out to help Leontina and Mozuta to their feet. “So, we’ve got some work to do. The lad needs to be punished. Otherwise, the poludnica won’t vanish.”
Leontina bowed her head. "As a Soul Guide, I cannot punish the living."
“You can't,” Dargorad grinned sinisterly. Mozuta felt a shiver run down his spine.
Right. That guy was a chort.
A chort that for some reason was willing to help them.