Board Thread:Writer's Workshop/@comment-35711173-20190702085504

This story comes from a prompt by Helel

A soldier wakes up on the battlefield after being knocked unconscious, and the terrors he witnesses there are the least of his problems, as he is unknowingly stalked by a monstrous undead being.

Rules:


 * 6000 words or less
 * The story has to take place in Medieval age or earlier
 * Optional: utilize Early Modern English where possible

I suggested a battle where one could involve vampires, but that was too easy. So, I wrote a story, then rewrote it when I was completely unhappy with it.

---

Everything would be so easy, Papal Legate Anselm said. Our crusade would fight with the power of Christ against the pagans and heretics to the East. We would be victorious, and the pagan's land is rich in meat, honey, grain, and birds.

Heinrich, Wilhelm, and I looked at each other. Our family had nothing. Legate Anselm said that this is an occasion for us to save our souls and become landowners at the same time. The Pope had even promised us the same indulgences as those who went to fight for the Holy Land. Absolution for all the sins we would commit during the crusade and for all our sins if we die. How could we lose?

That was before I woke up buried in Heinrich's entrails. I threw up, sobbing. He had been cleaved like a pig by one of their barbarian swords. The horrible stench of gore was all around me. My head felt like it was bursting, and I could feel blood was flowing down my face. When I tried to move, I saw bright stars and became dizzy. I looked around, making sure that the enemy wasn't near. Fortunately, the pagans were running after the retreating remnant of Christ's soldiers.

My helmet was so hot in the Summer heat. I took it off to examine it and saw the massive dent left by a heathen war hammer. What was the point of wearing it, and tossed it and my thick padded armor away.

I was so confused that all I could do was lay back down. By the time I felt I could move, the savages were plundering our dead. Those who still lived were run through with spears first. Others were following our Army towards the setting sun, the direction back home. To the East lay a forest. Death at the hands of some looting infidel had no appeal for me. I turned my back to my fellow Crusaders and went to hide.

As soon as I got into the forest, I heard voices. "Hermann," cried one. "Come this way. Come quickly." I thought it was Wilhelm, but this accursed ringing in my ears made it hard to recognize my own brother. When I tried to follow his voice through the trees, it always seemed to come from a different direction. Soon, I was lost. Then Wilhelm's voice stopped.

By now, I was hungry, tired and parched. Acorns filled my stomach, bitter or not. They didn't quench my thirst. The howls and growls of wild beasts surrounded me. Amid all of this, I heard singing and splashing.

The forest grew around me as I followed the sounds. When I reached the river, I spied around carefully. All I saw a basket of laundry and clothes spread out on tree branches to dry. I scanned the water, and my eyes met those of a woman trying to hide behind a bunch of reeds. "Come out, silly," I laughed.

She moved away from the reeds and stood in the middle of the river. "Don't hurt me."

"Show me your hands," I said, clutching my ax.

When she stood up in the water. I saw that her hands were empty, and her wet clothes revealed far more. This was no big nosed, yellow skin, sack of hay tied in the middle Slav woman. Her features and skin were fair, with bright green eyes and hair the color of gold. A heathen cross sat between the most marvelously sculpted bosoms. "Stay back there."

"I only want to drink and to bathe," I said, bending over and drinking before disrobing and entering the water. That is what I said, though truthfully, I did want more.

Tossing my clothes and ax in a pile, I entered the water. It felt so marvelous, so refreshing. I enjoyed washing the sweat and the stench off.

"What is your name," she called.

"Hermann."

She shrugged. "Army man. It fits. Not after a Saint."

"What is your name?"

"Maria, after the Mother of God." She swam closer, looking at me as I scrubbed. "Those are great scars."

"From swords, in battle."

She swam closer, tracing her fingers down one. "And such big muscles." She looked up at me. "You know, you are kind of cute," and kissed me delicately before stepping back.

I smiled. This would be better than I had thought, and the sin had to be less if she wanted it too. Not that it mattered. I was still absolved. "You are such a beauty, like a perfect flower."

She smiled too, as she took off her bodice and flung it onto the river bank. Her rose buds were perfect pink jewels. "Come where it's deep and cool."

How could I resist? She led me by one finger, then took off her dress and tossed it by her bodice.

When I held her, she was warm and lovely. Our mouths met. Soon my thundering loins met hers as her long hair wrapped about me. As I neared paradise, I could feel that her hair was now about my neck and choking me. When I tried to pull myself away, my loins held fast inside her as if by the bite of a mighty dog. What had been joy turned into pain and then to torture.

She pulled me down under the water. With both of us under the water, the very breath of life escaped me. Yet the witch still spoke. "Do you not recognize me, Army man?"

I shook my head, silently praying for deliverance from this terror.

"You are the one who made me a rusalka. I was washing clothes.  You beasts took me and used me, but that wasn't enough for you.  Just for fun, you held me under the water until I died."

"Not me, not me," I mouthed.

"Then I will kill you all until I have vengeance on the one who did this to me."

* * *

They told us to ration our water. That was easy for Field Marshall von Küchler to pronounce from the comfort of his base. By now, my canteen was empty. My orders were to scout the edge of the forest for enemy troop movement. Scouting meant kilometer after kilometer of walking sweltered in the Summer heat. The weight of my rifle killed my back as I crept low along the edge of the forest, trying to avoid any Red Army bullets.

I heard the sound of singing and water splashing and followed it. A woman was washing clothes in the river. No washboard, no washing powder. These barbaric Asians hadn't changed in centuries. I crawled on my belly to get closer and saw that she was no ordinary Russian sow. This was a fine Aryan. Her blonde hair, green eyes, and gorgeous figure would have been the envy of the League of German Girls.

She slipped into the water, trying to hide behind the reeds, but those eyes shined like stars.

I filled my canteen, watching her. Finally, I asked, "What's your name?" 