Bony Legs

The cabin in the woods had been abandoned for years, but one night, a candle burned in the window. Life had awakened within its wretched walls, and the mysterious house stood up and walked into the forest.

Soon after, a sinister curse descended upon the village. On hushed nights, when the blood moon rose, children were stolen from their homes, and lost to the dark forest. Many disappeared during those times.

There were some who formed posses to search for the children. However, the evil that robbed them of their precious babies eluded even the most seasoned hunters. Over time the disappearances mysteriously stopped.

Eventually the village prospered, and grew with much wealth. Stories of the curse faded into legend, and tales from this time were used to scare children into behaving.

"Be home before dark or the monster will get you"

"Misbehave and the ancient beast will sneak through your window and eat your heart."

Then one day, like before, children began to disappear. The evil curse had returned.

The wealthy towns folk had become plump and slow, and no longer capable to combat such an ancient force. Leaders, judges and the village priests, held a council to assure people there was nothing to worry about. The children simply ran away, or got lost, and will soon be found.

A huntress named Zoya grew up in the village hearing folklore tales and songs of the dark past. She was one of the few not tragically kidnapped during those dark times. Her sister Anya, was not so lucky.

Obsessed with the death of Anya, Zoya became estranged from the rest of the village. While most people attended lavish parties, and purchased extravagant clothing, she wandered the woods studying, and practicing what some would consider, devilry.

Zoya knew that the upper echelon didn’t care about the missing children, sitting sloth with their riches in castles. It was up to her to stop the curse.

When the next blood moon finally rose, Zoya packed her bow, axe, and gear, then she entered into the dark forest. The Moon's red light shone down through the thick trees. Here Zoya discovered the red light had an interesting effect on the moonmoss that grew on the forest floor. Minerals embedded in the plant emitted a blue light. Zoya felt the need to follow these lights, which guided her to a glade deep in the woods. Situated in the center of this clearing stood a smooth obsidian standing stone. She understood this stone would help lead her in the right direction.

Frigid wind drifted from the forest across the dell, and for a quick moment, Zoya saw the ghostly face of an old woman among the trees, smiling, watching her. The blood moon can play tricks with your mind, she told herself.

The black rock leaned to the right, pulling up the soil beneath it. The triangular tip of the stone pointed to the constellation Corvus. The crow constellation. As the dove cheeps in the morning, the crow caws in the evening. This meant to travel west towards the Cliffs of Kazimir. She collected the soft soil that touched the obsidian rock, understanding that it holds mystical qualities, and placed it in a sheepskin sack. Zoya checked to see if the haunting face had returned, if it had ever been there to begin with, but saw nothing. The western path was clear as she entered back into the dreaded forest.

Under the blood moon's light, the trees appeared distorted, their roots moving against Zoya's peripheral view. All the while an unusual spectral shape lurked in the distance, fading in and out of view like a thin dreamlike cloud. At times Zoya thought she may be retracing her steps, almost losing her way in the chaos, as the trails seemed to reshape and twist. The journey would test any man's courage. Despite all this, Zoya remained steadfast, using the stars to help guide her west.

When she finally reached the monstrous Cliffs of Kazimir, she heard the faint sound of a cackling laugh, curling in the wind.

No one had ever made it over these ridges, famously named after Kazimir, a hunter who decades earlier searched to find the source of the curse. He tried to find the mountain's path, and failed.

Sharp rocks stuck out like serrated arrows, pointing in all directions. The cliff walls were predatory. Zoya walked along the stoney crags looking for a way that might lead over. The mountain spanned for miles. She needed to hurry as the night was getting long, and the hut may move at dawn's first light.

Just as she started to believe there was no way over the cliffs, Zoya detected a hidden path. A cavity in the rock face, behind an irregular boulder. It was the smell that gave it away, the aroma of cool, damp air, wafting out. If there was no way over the mountain, maybe there was a way through it. She fashioned a makeshift torch, and entered the stone fissure, into a narrow tunnel leading into the cliff.

Steadily Zoya pushed her way down the winding constricted passage. Cold wind fanned her torch, shadows danced on the rough walls. The tunnels forked, leading in many directions, twisting and turning. Her skin scraped the stone along the way. She squeezed between tight spaces, constricting her ribs.

Zoya tried to go back, but with so many tunnels she had become lost. This mountain was becoming her tomb.

"The village was counting on me." She thought. "I failed them. More children will be taken." Like needles pricking her psyche, panic consumed her as she hurried through the maze.

"Anya was counting on me. And I failed her."

Frigid wind blew across her cut cheeks, accompanied by a disembodied cackle. Horrifying visions filled her mind. Visions of Anya lost, and suffering. Determined, she pushed forwards, desperate to find an exit. The air was humid, she felt she was beginning to suffocate. With speed, she stumbled into a widened area, feeling eerily refreshed. Like being buried alive, then pulled back out. Her torch revealed a dommed cave. At the far side, slumped against the wall sat a hideous mass. Skeletal remains of someone who spent their final moments in the bowels of the mountain. As Zoya approached the petrified carcass, her light lit the wall revealing a message.

"Turn your back to the forest your front to me"

Zoya wondered what the message could mean. The human husk on the ground wore a crest on his tattered coat, she recognized it as the village crest of nobility. This skeleton was Kazimir, the hunter. This message carved in the stone was his final words, marked forever in his tomb.

Around Kazimir's belt hung satchels, filled with crystals, seeds, and dirt. One thing however, caught her attention. A violet bottle, filled with a mysterious oil. She ripped the jar from Kazimir's rotted leather strap and attached it to her own.

Zoya began looking for another way out. It was no use going back into the labyrinth from which she came. In the wall opposite Kazimir's dusty skeleton, there was a hole, big enough for her to squeeze through. A cool breeze drifted from the opening. Zoya took her axe, bow and gear, and wrapped it all in rope. She placed the kit in the hole. She snuffed out her torch, and crawled on her stomach and into the opening. With one arm stretched forwards pushing her gear, she inched her way through the duct. The rocks grated her skin as the cramped space became tighter and tighter. Sweat beamed down her face while she dragged herself for what felt like miles. Finally, there was light. The crimson gleam of the red moon. She wriggled and pushed, bleeding from her arms, face, and legs.

With one last push, her body burst from the side of the cliff and fell to the wet forest floor. She laid in the cool grass. If it weren't for the ominous red moon, the forest was almost peaceful. With only a few hours of night left, Zoya knew she needed to hurry west.

She followed an overgrown path. The woods became denser the further she went. Overgrown trees blocking out the night's sky. Without guidance from the stars, she would become lost. Continuing to follow the trail, hoping she was headed in the right direction, she noticed a murder of crows, cawing in the trees. Corvus. She was on the right path. It wasn't long before a thick smell of rot permeated the air.

Leaving the forest's gloom, Zoya found a clearing. In the center of the nightmarish space, on a small grassy hill, sat a horrific cabin. The walls were constructed from bones. The roof was made with stretched skin, dried, and tough. Each piece of the putrid hovel wired together with long strands of muddy hair, and veins. Encircling the Witch's cabin was a stout fence made of bones, with a gate. The odor of sweet, decaying flesh hung heavy in the air, getting worse as Zoya approached the bone wicket. She gripped the skull door knob and turned it. The gate quietly opened.

Cautiously, Zoya moved closer up to the hut. Crows circled above the cabin, the blood moon shining bright red. She could hear the faint sound of a woman humming from inside the structure. No doors or windows were on any sides of the hovel. Frustrated, Zoya struck the slimy bone walls with her fists, but it was no use. There seemed to be no way to enter the hell house. Zoya then remembered Kazimir's final words engraved in stone above his corpse.

Facing the front of the shack, and in a commanding voice she said, "Turn your back to the forest, your front to me." A rumbling radiated from within, and a door carved itself into the bone walls, fixed with a wooden handle. The humming inside continued.

With her axe ready, Zoya grabbed the handle and swung the door open and ran inside the hut. Immediately she became paralyzed by a paranormal force. Her axe fell to the dark wood floor.

The decrepit hovel was one huge room. Bones tied together in various shapes hung from the ceiling. Shelves along the walls held glass jars filled with putrid bile. In the middle of the room sat a massive iron cauldron, boiling a fetid green substance.

"You think you can enter my home and live."

Like a mist drifting off the morning lake, black smoke rose up through the floorboards, and formed a short haggard thing. Zoya had heard legends of a sinister Witch that lived in the woods. The Baba Yaga is real.

Using a cane an old woman hobbled over to Zoya, still frozen. The horrible Witch pulled back her hood, revealing her wiry mouth. Only a few brown teeth reeked between her gray lips. In the center of her face were two black holes for a nose, and nothing but wrinkled skin where her eyes should be. Baba Yaga lifted a silver beak up to her nose holes, and sniffed Zoya.

"I've been watching you." She said, in a hushed voice. "Why do you come here?"

"To kill you"

"He... He... Heeee..." She wheezed. "Kill me?"

"The village is finished with your malevolence" Zoya said, attempting to break free from the Witch's invisible hold.

Baba Yaga reached up with a gray, skeletal hand, and with a long fingernail cut along Zoya's arm drawing blood. She flecked the blood into the bubbling cauldron and looked in with her eyeless face.

"Ahhhh. Anya. That is why you are truly here." Zoya spat at her poisonous words. The old woman shuffled back across the wooden floor, black flies buzzing all around her head.

"You know, Anya's sacrifice made the wheat yield plentiful that year," a hot stink spewed from her mouth as she talked. "But I did not take your sister."

"You lie!"

"My dear, don't you know? A bargain was made with your elders long ago." Terrifyingly Baba Yaga began to slowly grow, and the entire cabin began to shake. The jars rattled, dust fell from the rafters like snow. The entire cabin lifted up into the air.

"Each youth was given to me by the people in your hamlet." She rasped, now towering over Zoya. "Sacrificial lambs to obtain wealth and power."

Baba Yaga's bony legs, arms, and neck extended. Her spine tightened the skin on her back. Her mouth stretched from ear to ear. Each of the Witch's fingers grew long, with sharp metallic nails on the ends.

"And with each sacrifice, I become stronger."

Once a short, haggard old woman, Baba Yaga had transformed into a menacing creature from hell that only exists in the devil's nightmares.

"Let me bargain with you." Zoya said to the monstrosity.

The gaunt demon arched down to meet Zoya's face.

"What do you have to offer me?"

"I will bring you more children," Zoya looked into Baba Yaga's hideous face. "All the children."

The Witches gaping mouth expanded into a pointed smile.

"And what do you wish for in return?"

"My sister. Anya."

The paralyzing force holding Zoya ceased. Baba Yaga ambled over to a dark chest against the bone wall and opened it. While she did this Zoya reached into the lambskin sack, and clenched a handful of obsidian stone dirt. Baba Yaga lifted an urn, filled with ash.

"These are the ashes of your sister," she hissed with a slippery smile, leaning in close to Zoya's face. "With it I can bring her back. But she will not be the same."

Quickly Zoya opened her hand and blew the black soil into the face of the evil enchantresses. She riled back letting out a piercing scream, as the mystic dirt burned her skin. The house shook violently. Zoya grabbed Anya's ashes, picked up her axe and jumped 12 feet from the Witch's hut, landing hard on the ground below.

The shack was stilted on two giant legs with talons, stepping around as if the cabin itself was alive. Baba Yaga screamed from inside the hut. The massive chicken-like legs stomped around the clearing, crushing the stout bone fence that surrounded it.

Zoya gripped her axe tight and swung it fiercely into an enormous talon, repeatedly hacking at the leg until it snapped. A thunderous shriek bellowed from inside the shack as it plunged into the ground. She stared at the sinister cabin, wrecked in a pile of flesh and bone splinters.

A low rumble exhaled from inside the broken hut.

"He... He... Heeee."

Baba Yaga burst from the skin roof and into the air. Sitting inside her large iron cauldron, she floated above the trees, using her cane to steer.

"I am the devil's grandmother. You cannot slay me!"

She waved her rancid hand and the earth began to crack open in an earthquake of power. Zoya fled into the woods, but the vile Baba Yaga followed closely behind.

Zoya took the bow off her back, and fired an arrow through the trees at the Witch, missing her. She shot another arrow, striking the hag in the arm.

"Your simple arrows cannot hurt me" She laughed.

In a ballet of wicked gestures, Baba Yaga commanded the trees to move, and the ground to shift. Zoya hastened through the forest as it transformed around her. Every root tried to snatch her feet. The soil turned to quicksand. Rock slides raining down from the Cliffs of Kazimir.

At that time she remembered the purple vial she found on Kazimir, and an idea struck her. Zoya took an arrow and dipped it in the strange oil. Baba Yaga circled around in her flying cauldron laughing. Zoya took aim, but a root whipped out and grabbed her leg, and started to pull her down into the mud. She steadied her bow as best she could, aiming for the crone flying through the sky. Waist deep in the ground she let her arrow fly, and it struck true. Baba Yaga released a blood-curdling screech, and crashed to the forest floor. The forest went still, and the land ceased to be alive. Zoya pulled herself from the dirt.

Baba Yaga's disgusting body lay dying on the forest floor, her cauldron cracked, and broken.

"He... Heee... Now you'll never see Anya again.``

Zoya picked up her wooden cane. It was old wood, runes carved in the sides, and fixed with a stone at the top.

"It was never my intention to bargain with you." Zoya lifting up the staff. "With this I can bring her back myself."

The Witch looked up with a coyote grin.

"At a price." she said. Her body bubbled, turning into a foul mucus, burning the ground around her.

The curse was lifted from the village soon after that, for a time. The corrupt politicians, and clergymen will not receive any more wishes, their rule is over. You see, this is my story. Once I have consumed all the children in the town, I will have enough power to bring back my Anya. Fear me, for I am no longer Zoya. I am Baba Yaga.