Haunted Village: Truth

 The elderly couple were getting ready for bed. Their would-be son-in-law was sitting with them at the dinner table, and the old woman kept piling more potatoes onto his plate.
“Here, eat. You need to be strong,” she said, as she filled his plate.
This quiet moment did not last long. The door, which had only recently been rehung, was kicked in again by the same man.
“What are you doing here again?!” Gregor shouted. He had signed the contract, so what more did the chort want from him?
“Nothing. I’ve already done my job.” He stepped aside and bowed to make way. “She wants something from you.”

A true beauty stepped inside. She had golden eyes and beautiful black hair that flowed down her back. She wore a stunning navy-blue gown adorned with silvery threads that shimmered in the candlelight.
Although she was breathtakingly beautiful, her snow-white face was terrifying. Her arms and hands were exposed, revealing the joints. It was as if the woman standing before them was...
“... a doll?” Gregor muttered under his breath.
The beauty curtsied before them.
“Forgive this late intrusion,” she said, her voice sweet as honey and ringing softly in the ears of those present. “I am Leontina, a Soul Guide. I am here to convey the wishes of your deceased daughter.”
They all stared at her in astonishment and fear.
Gregor clenched his fist.
“Mozuta…” Leontina gestured to the boy, who swayed unsteadily as he brought her an axe with the name 'Gregor' carved into its wooden handle. Seeing the weapon, Dargorad smiled triumphantly. Retrieving it from the river had been worth the effort.
Gregor recoiled when he saw the blood coating the wooden handle of the axe.
“Your daughter was killed with this weapon, and the owner of this exquisite axe is standing right here among you.”
Both elderly people immediately looked at Gregor. They remembered that the man had bought the axe with his first hard-earned money and shown it to them straight away. The old miller took a step forward to look closely at the weapon.
“What are you saying, madam? Are you saying that our dear Gregor killed Lusa?” he asked, shaken when he saw blood on the axe handle.
Leontina looked at the old man with pity. She set the axe down on the floor in front of her and gestured to Mozuta again. This time, the boy handed her a scroll of paper.

“Please read this.”
The old miller grasped the scroll, unrolled it, and shuddered.

It was a pact with the chort.

It was the devilish contract that his would-be son-in-law had signed.
His old, wrinkled hands began to tremble.
He turned towards Gregor, his gaze burning with rage yet radiating bone-chilling coldness.
“But they’re lying, dear father!”
“Lying?” Dargorad interjected. He snapped his fingers and another scroll materialized in his hands amidst black flames. “You signed it with me, after all.”
“How dare you speak of it! You may be a chort, but you’re still human!” Gregor pointed a shaking finger at Dargorad, wanting to remind him about the agreement written down in their contract.

“Hey, I can talk about the contract. The only things I can’t speak of are your extraordinary deeds,” laughed Dargorad, shifting his gaze from Gregor to Leontina, who was a doll.

She wasn't a human, so she could reveal his sin.

It was her fault.
It’s because that doll came here.

“You...” Gregor felt something surge within him. It pulsed harder and harder.
He couldn't control it.
The woman, the doll, the thing before him began to blur more and more as he stared at it.
Just like the time he couldn't contain his joy with every swing of the axe as his plan unfolded.
"You have no right to say a word about what I did to that ugly hag!" he shouted, rushing towards Leontina. He grabbed the axe lying on the floor and swung it, but then smoke enveloped him.
Bony hands emerged from the smoke.
They were ice-cold, so cold that he ceased to feel anything at all.

“I love making deals with idiots,” the chort laughed. His laughter and mocking gaze were the last things Gregor saw before bony hands dragged him down into the abyss of Selew.
As the smoke cleared, the man’s stiff body fell to the floor. Moments later, a black flame engulfed the body, reducing it to ash.
At that very moment, the spirit of a plump, freckled girl appeared in the room. She looked sadly at the pile of dust, then turned to the elderly couple and smiled warmly at them before vanishing.

Leontina approached the miller and his wife.
“I offer my condolences to your family. Unfortunately, the only good news I have is that your daughter passed peacefully to Weles, and that the poludnica, which sowed chaos in the fields, has disappeared.”
Overcome with grief, the elderly couple sank to the floor.
Despair settled over their home.

It was a sorrow that would not soon fade.

Leontina left the house with Mozuta. Outside, a liho bounded towards her and nuzzled her cheek to offer comfort.

Only Dargorad remained inside.
He knelt before the elderly couple and asked, “Shall I burn this axe for you, too?”
They merely nodded. No words could pass their lips.
The chort granted their wish.
His black flame had consumed the weapon that had killed their precious daughter.

The clouds cleared to reveal a magnificent starry sky. A golden crescent moon shone brightly in the sky. This reminded Leontina of Mr Twardowski and their task.
“Mozuta, I know it’s late. Could you come with me to the dragon’s cave?”
“Heh,” the boy chuckled softly. "If I want to lead a quiet life, I've got to catch that count, right?” 

He would prefer to avoid the dragon and any blood-sucking counts, but for his own peace of mind, he has to face them.

Mozuta glanced back at the miller’s house once more, from which Dargorad had just emerged. The chort waved to them and went on his way, pleased to have secured the soul. The fact that he had known all along that a black soul was hiding in the miller's house could mean only one thing: he had used them to obtain it.

These events confirmed a thought that had been forming in the boy's mind for some time:

Truly, humans and ghosts are equally terrifying.