Disclaimer: this story is based purely on my fantasy. No character is based on a real, living or dead, person; this story will include explicit scenes of sex between teenagers under age of eighteen and mild scenes of violence of unnatural nature; if those topic disturb you, please do not read any further
Introduction: this story is about summer holidays of a 17 year old guy named Michal. After a last month at school, that he mostly spent inside after suffering rejection, he decides to spend a month at his grandparents house. His stay will be filled with sexy and scary of an unnatural nature, as he will get the opportunity to explore his sexuality with a help of ancient demon called Rusalek...
PROLOGUE
Footsteps, echoing in my head. Half asleep, I'm opening my eyes and remove an arm from above my face to see a white ceiling with decorative chandelier, which I would never let anywhere near my room. As yawn escapes my mouth, I remove a flowery duvet, certainly not my style, from over my chest. As sleep fades away, I'm remembering my yesterday's arrival at my grandparent's house. It's located in a village so remote from civilised world, that you have to travel seven kilometers to get to the nearest convenience store. There's also no internet and running water, even though it's already 2007. You must think, I'm crazy for choosing such place as a vacation spot. Well, maybe I am. Or maybe the world kicked me so hard in the ass, that I wanted to get away as far as I could. I'm looking around for my phone, only to realise, that it's still in my travel bag, as I'm still not ready to check my inbox and call log. I sit up, feeling my feet sinking into a soft, brown carpet, and throw on a zip up hoodie, that was hanging on the chair nearest to the bed. The room has retro feel to it, with heavy-looking, wooden furniture, white starched tablecloth, and pictures of Jesus and Holy Virgin hanging over the bed.
The only other room in the house acts both as a kitchen and living room, with TV set, standing just few meters away from the stove. The design of the room was completed by two sofas, each from different set, a kitchen table, white cabinet and tiled stove, a remnant of buildings fifty years long history, which hasn't been once used in my presence. My grandma, who's footsteps woke me up, is walking around the room. She is a thick woman with short grey hair. She wears plain clothes, as she doesn't want to stain her "church attire" while doing housework. Rubbing my eyes, I take a peek inside the fridge and take out three eggs and a slice of ham, which I transform into scrambled eggs by the stove. While I eat, my grandma asks me about school and whether I already have a girlfriend. We didn't have much time to talk yesterday, as she and grandfather were busy catching up with their children, my folks, who drove me here on the evening. To be polite, I ask in turn, where grandpa is. The answer is that he went to tend to the field. Though they are almost seventy years old, my grandparents are still very active and sharp, something I envy them big time. Despite their children keep convincing them to sell the livestock and enjoy their retirement, they refuse to do so, and year by year they keep sowing their fields and gathering crops. Once finished with my breakfast, I return to "my" room and take a peek into my travel bag. Today, I'm going to wear a black t-shirt with Stormtrooper print over, and glaring red shorts.
To wash myself in these conditions, I needed to bring fresh water from the well outside and excuse grandma from the kitchen. I place a washtub on a chair in front of the mirror that was settled into a cabinet. I put a foam on my cheeks and neck and look in the mirror. With a razor, I unveil a face familiar to me like none other. As I barely left my apartment throughout last month, my complexion is pale with freckles clearly visible, my thin lips seem bright red in contrast to the substance on my face. I chuckle to myself. It's almost as if I was a male Snow White. Skin white as snow, lips red as a blood and a mop of hair black as ebony. I wipe off remains of shaving foam with a rough towel as I stare into my hazel eyes and replace water in the wash tub.
After I get dressed, I'm trying to keep myself busy. I'm a big city guy so at home there's always something to do. Playing a video game, seeing friends, or going to the movies. But what do I do when I'm in a two room house in the middle of nowhere? First I turn to the TV and watch all the re-runs that were showed on the three available channels, most of them are a soap operas or silly mockumentaries, so I have my share of laugh, but soon get bored, as all of them seem to have identical plot with just different actors.
Then, desperate, I turn to the book. It 's some crime novel by author named Agatha Christie, the name unknown to me, but as someone who doesn't read much, I was attracted to a thinness of the volume. I decide to read outside. I walk out into summer heat. The sky is spotlessly blue and the sun is bright, even though it isn't noon yet. Ignoring a barking dog, I pass the fence of my grandparents' property which included a barn, cowshed, henhouse and the stable. I head for the tree, that stood in the middle of the meadow owned by my family. Cows are mooing, as I walk by them. Then I sit in the shadow and lean against the stub. The village was situated on a vast plains circulated with a forest, just a several dozen houses standing by the road and the lake. From what I remembered only few families with children lived there, with rest of villagers being around the age of my grandparents. However, my information could be outdated. Call me heartless, but I wasn't a frequent visitor. For the last five years, I was here only for big family reunions, as I found the lack of basic conveniences unbearable. However, before I was twelve, I spent every summer here, and had few friends.
Now that I think about it, my thoughts avert from the title page ("And then there was no one") and turn in the general direction of a house of my long abandoned friend. He was one year younger than me, so now he should be around sixteen. I'm hesitating. Will he remember me? And whether I would be better off if he does? What if he's angry? What if he has a girlfriend and doesn't have time for someone who disappeared five years ago and never contacted him since? And then there is a possibility that he won't recognize me and I'll make a fool of myself. Cause let's face it - I don't even know how would I handle introduction.
`Hey, I'm Michal, we were friends once, but then I got bored with coming here each summer and never even left you a phone number. Remember me?'
or maybe
`Hey, my name's Michal, I was just walking down the road and thought that someone my age may live here, look at my luck!'
I know that it's terrible idea, but as I look back at the book, I find myself more and more desperate. I guess I'm a pack animal. Finally I make my decision, close the book and head back to the house, to let my grandma know that I'll be gone for the afternoon. As I mention my friends' name, she smiles and tells me to be carefull. With her blessing, I leave and stroll down the road. I walk slowly and somehow reluctantly, still trying to conceive a plan for the moment of our reunion. In search of inspiration, I look around. As I said, on the sides of the road, there are houses, most of which are built of brick, but once in awhile I pass by a wooden hut covered with thatched roof and with a stork nest on top. But the walk can't last forever, as I happen upon yellow one-story house, covered with brown roof tile, that undoubtedly belongs to my friend. I pass the gate, walk up to the door and still with no idea on how to start conversation, I give a door three knocks.
After a dozen seconds, a time enough to change my mind about standing here three times, I hear someone behind the door, then clanking of the doorknob, and then I see him, dressed in a light blue t-shirt and plain black shorts . He is lot taller than at the age of eleven, but with the same features I liked about him back then. But I have little time to enjoy his looks, as the moment he realises it's me, he charges in my direction and hugs me tightly.
`Michal! Long time no see!'
`Hello Damian.' - I say and pat his back awkwardly, as obviously I wasn't expecting such a warm reception, and as I'm in general a person who enjoys having their personal space intransgressible. Still, I feel a sting of disappointment, when he lets go and abashed, takes few steps back, refusing me a delicate smell of shower gel mixed with just a hint of sweat. He must have showered not too long ago, as his house was one of the few in the village that was connected to the waterworks.
`Jesus, you asshole, I thought you were dead or had cancer or something!' - says Damian, frowning his thin eyebrows. The anger doesn't suit his golden-tanned face, with those big innocent eyes and thin, pink lips. I smile involuntarily, as I see he still wears his blond hair in crewcut, with top formed in spikes.
`Gee, sorry man. I had a lot going on. And besides...' - I interrupt my improvisation, as I see a mischievous sparkle in his eyes. There was no need for explanations. We're still friends, as if instead of five years, a mere day had passed since we last saw each other.
`Oh, just shut your trap and come in. You look like an idiot, waving your hands at the doorstep.'
`Lead the way then, wise-ass.' - I reply, and we chuckle. He moves aside unnecessarily, as we're both so thin, that we could stand in the door face to face and still be comfortable.
`Oh, and by the way, happy birthday.' - he says, as we walk up the stairs, me with a perfect view at his bony ass.
Thanks.' - I reply, stunned by his good memory - How come you still remember?'
`Well, some people aren't morons with memory of a goldfish.'
`Oh, give me a break. Besides, I remember that your birthday is August twenty fourth, so stop bitching.'
`It's on twenty fifth, you jerk.'
`And there we go again.' I sigh and we both laugh.
Damian's room is that of a typical teenager. A desk with the computer and the lamp, a bookcase and small bed, on which I sit, while my host chooses to place himself on a swivel chair. I look around the walls sticked with posters of rappers and r'n'b singers, most prominent those of Eminem, 50 Cent and Beyonce in her famous diamond top.
'So, what were you up to, for those last few years?' he asks, his voice giving an impression of polite curiosity.'
'Nothing much.' - I answer instinctively, but quickly decide to elaborate further - 'I've managed to enroll at Herbert High.'
'Whoa, congrats!' - he says with a cheerful smile. That's the Damian I knew, gentle and polite, not the one that calls me assholes and jerks - 'Girlfriend?'
'Yup' - I answer, protruding my chest - 'You?'
'I had once, but we broke up couple months ago. No luck since then. It gets hard sometimes.'
'That I can imagine.' - I reply and we burst into a giggle. My words have yet another undertone though. I literally was sometimes imagining hard dicks. I have a girlfriend for show, but really I'm one hundred percent gay. Although I'm still in closet in general, I've managed to come-out to few of my closest friends. Hearing about this, my bestest friend, Ola have offered to become my mock girlfriend in order to avoid suspicions and awkward situations. Not wanting to sound full of myself, I was considered a hot stuff at my school and in past I had to turn down few girls, which was both troublesome and unpleasant. Coming down from high horse of my grandeur, I ask Damian:
'Where are your folks?'
'At work till five PM. My sisters are home though.'
Damian is younger brother of identical twins - Karolina and Paulina. I, on the other hand, am an only child. We envied the others' situation and never were able to come to a consensus on whether it was better to have siblings or not. Damian's parents weren't farmers. They had a nine-to-five job in the nearby town, which left a house in Damian's and twins hands for most of the day.
'So, what brought you to this shithole all of a sudden?' - asks Damian after a moment's hesitation.
'Do I really need a reason? I just came to visit my grandparents.'
'Yeah, right. Then what about last five years?'
'Look, I've been through some serious shit lately. I need rest. I-I know that coming here was...Jesus, I feel so stupid! You must think, that I came here just because I was bored.'
'No, you did the best thing you could! I just thought that there was something you want to get off of your chest. If there is... I'm here for you.'
You bet there is, I think as I feel my heart melting as shy smile appears on his face. If only I could tell him...
'Nope, I was just bored at home. Needed a change of the scenery. Try something different. But thanks for the thought.'
'Well then, you couldn't pick a better time!' - he gives me a wider grin - 'Tonight there is a St John's Eve! There'll be music, girls and bonfires.'
'I don't know.' - I whine, as I don't feel confident enough to encounter crowds yet.
'Oh, don't be such a tight-ass, it'll be fun!'
'I'm not a tight-ass! I'm just not sure if it's my style.'
'There's only one way to find out .- he says matter-of-factly - Besides, you don't have anything better to do anyway.'
'I could go to sleep earlier.'
'What are you, ninety-nine? Trust me, you won't regret it!'
'Ok, since you're recommending. ' - I smile and have a rare opportunity to see his eyes full of triumphant glare.
We catch up on our lives in greater detail until his parents come home. They don't recognize me at first glance, but after reintroduction, they praise me on how much I have grown, and what a handsome young man I have become. After a bit of a small talk, I leave, and head back to the grandparents' house.
Once I get here, a heavenly smell surrounds me. As I enter the kitchen, my grandma, and grandpa, a short man with balding head and warm eyes, are sitting by the table. I quickly join them and begin to devour potato drop scones, and washing them down with curdled milk. As far as I know it's only popular in Poland and the rest of the East Europe, but trust me, if you never had chance to drink it, you're missing out big time! Once my hunger was satisfied, I ask them for a permission to attend the party, and we agree that they'll leave me a spare key under a doormat.
Three hours later, with a hoodie on my back, accompanied by Damian, I head to the lake outside the village, where the festivities are supposed to be held. Once we reach our destination, we meet up with three guys, Damian's classmates. A chubby redhead named Tomasz, scrawny-looking dirty blond guy named Marcin and Adam, a guy with brown hair and rather average built. Their unpopularity and awkwardness is palpable almost like a scent. We don't talk much, while taking a stroll at the side of the lake as they are pretty shy. Instead, each of us is looking around the festival. The high flames from the bonfires are reflecting in the water in the gathering darkness. The people, mostly families with children and few bored teenagers are already gathering. From the direction opposite to us, comes a tall bearded man with two kids, about ten years old far ahead of him.
'Wlodek, Adam, stop running off, or we're going back home!'
The kids giggle to themselves, but obediently come back to their father. At the end of the lake, there is a wooden stage, obviously raised for the occasion, on which a band is warming up.
'Hey, fancy t-shirt, I've never seen you before.' - I hear a voice from the crowd. I look around. Damian and the guys turn motionless. In front of me stands well-built ginger. At first, his eyes widen as we cross glances, but soon they narrow into thin crevices, his hostility almost sparking in the air. Behind him five guys are lurking as if they were his shadow.
'Maybe you shouldn't squint your eyes so much. Otherwise a lot can escape unnoticed.'
'My name is Lukasz and nothing in this village escapes my eyes.'
'Nice to meet you then. Can I go now, or maybe a bow is in order?' - I chuckle to Damian and the others,but it seems they're turned into stone.
'Watch your mouth, or they may end up bumping into my fist.' - grumbles Lukasz. What a charmer!
'I guess that depends on who's arm is longer. Wanna check?' - I ask defiantly, staring right into his eyes. Eyes that somehow seem familiar to me.
'Come on Michal, he's not worth it.' - Damian urges me, as he places a hand on my shoulder. I notice it's ice-cold.
'Yeah, Michal, run with the rest of the chickens.' - mocks Lukasz, as his minions laugh obediently. If only I was alone, I would rub that grin off of his fucking muzzle. Even in six to one situation, I could put down at least three of them, given my strength. But I'd hate to expose my new friends to danger, so I chose to fled, even if it meant being branded as a coward.
Soon enough, we leave the unpleasant encounter behind us and manage to enjoy festival. We eat sausages roasted over the fire, watch girls throwing flowery wreaths into the lake, and even ask few of them for a dance to the terrible country music played by a band. Marcin, Adam and Tomasz are clearly impressed by my handling of Lukasz and act more confident and friendly in my presence.
As the midnight is getting closer, some old guy (according to Damian, he's a provost) comes up to the stage, takes over the microphone and announces in overly cheerful voice:
'Hey folks! Are you having a lot of good time tonight?!'
'Yeah!' - shouts the crowd, part of the excitement caused by the beer they've drank.
'Wanna have even more fun?'
'Yeah!'
'Then it's time to begin our annual quest for the Fern Flower! Somewhere in the forest there are ten stashes with hidden clues which will lead you to the magical flower of fern! For a finder, or finders of a flower there'll be a reward! But hurry up, because there is only one flower and it will bloom in about an hour! -' he said and laughed at an unintended rhyme.
'Is this guy nuts? Ferns don't bloom! '- I asked guys bewildered.
'Oh, relax tight-ass, it's just a legend. '- laughs Damian. Guess I earned myself a new nickname.
'There is a legend - picks up Tomasz - that each year on this night somewhere in the forest blooms a unique flower...'
'Are you ok in the head?' - I ask, looking at their shit-eating grins.
'Whoever finds and conquers the demons that are guarding a flower...' - says Marcin.
'Will gain eternal wealth!' - finishes Adam in a mysterious tone.
'Oh, now I get it! - I say, struck by illumination - You want to go into that forest, collect some fake flower and get some cheap reward? Well, have fun while I go home and sleep through this madness.'
'Jesus, you're such a...' - Damian begins his defensive speech.
'Call me a tight-ass once again, I dare you.'
'Trust us, it'll be fun - says Tomasz agitated - I bet you haven't ever seen a forest at night. It's cool!'
'What a great idea! Getting lost in the woods and being eaten by some beast! That's the best thing I've ever heard!' - I snap.
'Don't be such a drama queen! Nothing's gonna attack you!' - exclaims Damian, spreading his arms.
'Besides, we'll stick together, and the forest's not that big.' - adds Marcin eagerly.
I contemplate idea for a moment. The night was bright, with stars clearly visible. In the worst case I could use them to navigate.
'FINE. But we are going back in an hour. I'm not spending a whole night out there.'
'Alright, alright. We'll get you safely to your home and bed - says Damian as he passes me - tight-ass.'
As I walk behind them, my fists are clenched, although I can't contain my smile.
An hour later we're still walking around the forest. We found shit, but only figuratively, as in reality even such achievement is out of our reach.
'Okay guys, I've held to my end of the deal. Now it's your turn.' - I say, tapping my finger on the face of my wristwatch.
'But Michal, I can feel it, we're just a few steps away from.." - moans Damian.
'From catching cold. I'm not taking another step, unless we head home.'
Just as these words leave my mouth, we can hear a loud screeching, clearly coming out of a throat of some big animal lurking somewhere to the east of us.
'W-what was that?' - I ask in a high-pitched voice. From arguing group of friends we suddenly turn into a scared-shitless group of friends.
'We should run. - suggested Tomasz in a trembling voice - Run as fast as we can.'
'Let's scatter. Whatever it is, we'll make it confused.' - I add.
'Okay, but we should get together by the lake. ' - agrees Damian.
After we agree upon it, we part our paths. Although at first I was going to navigate based on position of stars, now there is too little time to do it. As I run, I'm not sure whether I'm moving to the edge or the center of the woods. My heart is thumping, I can almost sense a wild eyes on my back. I'm accelerating. Suddenly my foot gets caught up in the root of a three. I trip and roll down the slope, feeling fern leaves slapping my face and sticks grinding into my body.
Feeling dizzy, I stand up and look around. I'm standing in the hollow, where strands of mist are larded with stems of fern. An otherworldly light is coming from the center of the hollow. I forget about my fear and desperate situation. The flickering gleam draws me closer and closer, as if I am a puppet. Finally I can see it clearly, although find it hard to believe.
One of the ferns has managed to produce the most beautiful and pure flower I have ever seen. It's heavenly scent was almost unbearable, like you could go crazy out of mere enjoyment of inhaling it. The petals of a flower are whiter than a snow and seem delicate as the mist. It's pistils and stamens resemble a dancing flame. The urge I feel to collect it is so powerful that my hand is reaching out on its own volition, while my mind is reluctant to even touch the flower, afraid that it will evaporate. Finally I grip the stem and tug. As I collect the flower, the blinding light engulfs me.
TBC.