The Koschei

When night approaches 

and darkness falls,

and the shadows come out to play.

When your safe in your bed,

laying down your head,

That's where you should stay.

for in theses shadows,

amongst the debris,

lays a terror of no hope and decay,

wating to take,

all hope and joy,

and to steal your soul away.

This is sung around the cold and hostile streets of a small village in South Russia known in English as ambiance village simply for the lack of atmosphere and character that this town brought with it. When you walked though it you could see men that looked like they had given up on life everywhere you went, they sat on street corners expressionless smoking pipes and staring at you without ever saying a word. The musky streets matched the brick built houses with your breath the only sign of life that could ever be seen here, shops and bars were open but if it was a social night you wanted then you would be better off staying in and talking to the local black cats that wandered proudly through the alleys of the village. The smell of mortar and industrial smoke took the place over in the light and when it got dark it turned into a dreary village of hibernation and loneliness. 

A writer once went here, he had heard of the reputation it had and he went looking for inspiration for a book about how the place you live in has a big impact on the person you are, both good and bad so he thought that this place would be a great for this social experiment. He stayed in what they called a hotel but in reality it was nothing more than an abandoned motel with the exception for the old lady that sat in the dark at reception, all that gave her away was the smoke coming from the corner followed by her harsh lengthy cough. He checked in but the only time he ever spent here was when he slept, he preferred to spend his day roaming around the depressing streets rather than spending it in the "Lavish, modern hotel room with all the up to date equipment needed for your leisurely/business trip" its amazing what they can get away really.

He travelled all over the world looking for evidence to back up his theory but never had he stayed somewhere like this before. Walking through the streets he couldn't help but be drawn to the negative feeling everywhere and that everyone had, a simple hello was greeted either by a cold stare or a groan in reply. One night the writer who went by the name of Wesley was coming back from a venture down to the cafe on the corner when he could feel the presence of someone following him, there was a shadow on the walls next to him but every time he turned around there was nothing there. The shadow he described was skinny and that of all bone, very skeleton like and seemed to float rather than walk, this was what he wrote in his journal. the next night he took the same walk home from the cafe and again he seen the shadow following him back to the hotel until it disappeared. 

This happened for about a week straight with Wesley trying to take pictures and record it but it never appeared on camera when he watched it back. Time came to check out and in he went to reception on one of the very rare bright mornings that this village saw but still the old lady manages to surround herself in darkness, she was standing still, smoke constantly following her breathing, she started laughing " Did you see it" she cackled. Wesley wondering what she was talking about responded "Um no, see what?" the old lady suddenly stopped laughing and rocking and sat right up from the dark corner staring into Wesley's face sniffing him, " You seen it I know you did, I can smell him off you now go, go into the shadows". She spoke with an accent but without an accent of familiarity, it had a Russian edge mixed with a Mediterranean twang. Wesley left and at the door was a black cat purring at him to which he tried to ignore but the cat kept following him and stopping in front of him, what did this cat want thought Wesley to himself, it walked back the way while looking back all the time, it wanted him to follow and follow the cat he ended up doing.

It led him to a shop that was called Lyev's treasure of love, he entered through the push door at the front, the cat waited outside as if it could read the sign saying "No Pets Allowed". The place itself was empty but filled with old ornaments and had a relaxing feel to it, certainly a change to everywhere else around here. Wesley walked to the back of the shop where through hanging door beads was a hand that signed for him to come in, little stumpy fingers curled back in a waving motion one by one. An old Russian man stood there , Wesley presumed this was Lyev, he was blind and didn't say much but he handed Wesley something ; a bracelet along with a small pamphlet and whispered to him "Wear this until it passes the 12th day of the month and never take it off especially when out in the streets" . Wesley accepted. hesitantly said thank you and left the shop, outside the cat was gone.

The torn pamphlet read "This chakra bracelet brings healing to the seven energy points in your body the solar plexus, the heart, throat, sacral, crown, brow and the base. However it is also used to fight off the Koschei who arrives every year in November and feeds off the souls of others by draining all their energy points until they are filled with negative energy. The Koschei comes in shadow form and leaves after the 12th day of the month after bending the town to its will" 

Wesley stuck around out of curiosity, everyone who lives here seemed convinced about this idea and it would explain the way the place is, besides if it is true what a story that would make he thought to himself. It was now on the 12th day of the month and Wesley waited for the night before going out in search of feeding his curiosity, along the smokey alleys he wandered for the night. The sound of cats purring started growing louder like they were scared of something, a swooshing sound of the wind knocked over the nearby trash cans, Wesley stumbled along entering down streets he didn't know in order to take cover from the swirling winds. He reached the end of one street where on his left there was a chowder of black cats blocking the way out and on his right was a large brick stone wall to which a shadow started to emerge and get larger and larger.

It was tall in stature but skeleton like in frame, exactly as the figure that was following him days earlier looked, he also noticed long pointy hands with nails as long as the fingers itself on the shadow and it hissed like the cats. Wesley looking perplexed was in awe of this figure, he quickly tried to draw it before his paper was pulled from his hands as if the creature had a magnet attached to it, he was lifted from his feet and thrown against the wall. Blood was trickling down from his face which got the cats excited , they hissed with a pleasureful ring to it waiting to go in for the kill, Wesley tried rubbing the chakra bracelet on his left wrist but nothing happened it only brought on a rather stuttering laugh from the Koshei who then picked him up by the throat, bent back his arms and reached deep inside of him. A ball of light appeared as it was sucking all the positive energy out of Wesley and taking his soul. It then dropped him abruptly and the shadow started to slide back down the wall until it blended in with the darkness, the cats gathered around Wesley in a circle and slowly enclosed on him, they scratched and clawed at him but never bit him - this was like there little reward for a job well done.

He was told a lie, he wasn't sold a chakra bracelet by the blind man he was given something which resembled one but it was in actual fact the very thing which released the Koschei, the cats were sort of the minions that led people to it. Wesley now works in that hotel he stayed in as a caretaker, his body and mind bound to the Koschei who has his soul and this is the same for everyone else here. On the 12th of November each year the people and the cats of this small dark and dreary Russian village work together to get another soul for their master the Koschei and this now includes Wesley. His theory was correct you are the place you live in.

When night approaches 

and darkness falls,

and the shadows come out to play.

When your safe in your bed,

laying down your head,

That's where you should stay.

for in theses shadows,

amongst the debris,

lays a terror of no hope and decay,

wating to take,

all hope and joy,

and to steal your soul away.

Side note; Thanks to Donna Gladman for the short poem, you can follow her on Twitter @F4ll3n4ng3l81, she is amazing at what she does.