When I was younger, I was never allowed to leave my room after 9pm, one night I discovered why. (FINAL)

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Baba Yaga’s hut was walking toward me, the chicken legs quivering as they took long and slow deliberate steps. The ground shook as it walked.

I wanted to shout, to scream, to run but I’d learned by now that none of those things make a difference. All I could do was stand, transfixed to the spot as I watched in horror the things that were unraveling before me.

As the hut got closer, I saw it’s horrific detail. The windows were lit and burned a deep red and as it got closer, I could see that the windows possessed little blinking eyes, on each corner that stared down at me. The door, the door itself was a mouth and it snapped open as it approached, revealing hard metallic teeth. The hut was death personified, Baba Yaga was death personified.

The hut was adorned with human bones, there were skulls, torsos, hands, arms, legs at every little nook and cranny of the exterior. The closer it got, the more horrific it looked. The illustrations in my book did it no justice, they failed to outline the true terror of Baba Yaga’s abode.

It was then that the door with teeth opened and Baba Yaga appeared, holding the still-beating heart of her latest victim. She cackled as she looked down at me and I suddenly felt very faint, nauseous, and not myself. I felt compelled to walk over to my mother's corpse, I didn’t want to but my legs just ended up taking me there. I had no control over my body.

I stood over my mother's mutilated body with tears streaming down my face, unable to control what I was doing. Baba Yaga was next to me now.

She made me kneel. She wiped the sweat from my brow with her skinny, rotting fingers, and then, she made me eat my mother's rotting heart.

I had no control over this, as I mentioned so the deed itself, was absolute torture. I couldn’t do anything to stop myself, my limbs were alien, no longer mine, and were at Baba Yaga’s every behest. I could still feel though and I could still...taste. Now, how can I describe to you what a rotting heart tasted like?

They’re right when they say that people taste like pork. The taste was bitter, acidic and I don’t know whether that had anything to do with the decaying of the heart. The blood though, my god the blood. There was no metallic taste to it, I can’t quite explain the taste of it but it made me want to vomit. Have you ever smelt a rotting corpse? Well, it tastes as it smells. I remember feeling a horrible knot in my stomach, it made me recoil, I gripped my stomach so tight and cried out. I didn’t know what was happening to me. The pain was indescribable, like thousands and thousands of little knives stabbing me all at once from the inside.

I think I passed out again right then. All I remember is the sound of Baba Yaga’s shrill laugh.

When I awoke, I was inside the hut, strapped to a sacrificial altar. There were hooded figures all around me and they were chanting. I felt sick, faint and like something was crawling inside of me.

In the middle of the room, was Baba Yaga and she was holding another heart in her hands, high above her head. This one looked different though. It didn’t look human. It was far too big and it was so so black. The veins shone bright red and they pulsated.

One of the hooded figures approached me and removed its hood.

It was my father.

‘’Hello, Anna''. He said, smiling.

‘’Dad, what’s happening? Please help me, please let me go. I won’t leave my room again, I promise''. I said, tears streaming down my face. And I really was sorry. I really wished that things could go back to what they were, no matter how cruel they seemed, anything was better than this.

‘I am sorry, Anna. But that’s not going to happen. Your mother and I have tried our best to protect you as much as we could. You must understand, this is not what we wanted but Baba Yaga, she needs a new host. She is our god and we want to serve her well, we want to repay what she has given us and we must be forgiven for what we’ve done. How we’ve shackled her for so long. There are lives at stake here. Your mother already lost hers''. My dad replied, not a shred of emotion lining his cruel face.

‘’A...a host? What does that mean?? Why am I strapped in like this? What are you planning to do?’’ I cried out at him, I screamed, I writhed but it was no use.

‘’It is no use, Anna. You have discovered her and now you have to pay the price. I have to pay the price, as your mother has had to pay the price. Please, Anna, don’t make this harder than it has to be.'' My father said, gently stroking my sweat covered hair.

I didn’t say anything then, I just sobbed. I mean, what can you even say? My father continued.

‘’It is a special privilege, Anna. A great honor and you should consider yourself lucky to have been chosen. When the times comes, you will carry the Baba Yaga for centuries and you will do great things with her.'' He said as he began to walk away. He looked at the Baba Yaga and at the other figures and he spoke once more.

‘’We must begin the ritual.''

Baba Yaga began walking towards me, the hooded figures, including my father all knelt down as she passed. She was holding the strange black heart in her hand and she cupped it and brought it close to my face.

I turned my face away. Clenched my mouth shut because I knew what she was going to do. She was going to feed that heart to me.

‘’You must devour the heart Anna, it is a sacred heart, it is her heart. Eat it.'' My father said and I recognized that tone of voice. I have heard it so many times growing up. It was the voice of a father who if you didn’t do what he said, then you would be sorry you ever existed and defied the order.

I already was, sorry.

Despite, I fought against my shackles, I fought as hard as I could against Baba Yaga’s powers but she overcame me. I started to feel like I did back outside, next to my mothers corpse. Like I couldn’t control what I did. I was suddenly fighting against myself.

‘’Your efforts are futile, Anna. The Baba Yaga is strong, just please, do as she commands. Do as I command for god sake, I am your father and you will obey!’’ He bellowed. The Baba Yaga shot him a glance. She was in charge here.

My father quickly returned to his place. I could see the fear forming on his face.

I started shouting and screaming then but Baba Yaga’s powers quickly overwhelmed me and I lay, comatose but still conscious. I just couldn’t move any part of my body.

The Baba Yaga brought the heart to my lips and made me open my mouth and then made me bite down. Then, she made me chew.

Internally, I was screaming, I was gagging and for the love of God, I just wanted to vomit. But I couldn’t do any of those things. All I could do was lie there, still as a mouse, and chew the decaying heart of a century-old witch.

When that was over, I felt a very sharp pain in my chest, a pain so profound, so agonizing that I thought I was going to die right there and then, on that altar.

I had my bodily functions back and I writhed so violently that I felt all the bones in my back literally crack and bend. I screamed until my voice was hoarse and then, it was over. Just like that.

I looked up, hazily, my breathing shallow, and what I saw made me shout out once more. Baba Yaga held my heart, in her hands. It was my still-beating heart. She put it in some sort of cauldron that was in the middle of the hooded figures. She cooked it and then she ate it.

The Baba Yaga ate my heart.

‘’It is done''. The hooded figures said in unison.

My father approached me then.

‘’You are bonded to the Baba Yaga, you are one now. And when the time comes, it could be years and years from now, but the time will come and you will know. Then you will become the Baba Yaga. You, Anna, will be our god. You will be her.’’ My father said.

‘’Sleep now child. Sleep, tomorrow everything will be new, different.'' He said stroking my head once more.

I drifted away then. I dreamt of Baba Yaga.

——————————————————————

So there you go, that is my life story. I encountered the Baba Yaga and I have not been the same since and perhaps that is down to me not having a heart.

As I mentioned, I attended therapy for many years following my encounter and the ritual. My therapist said that it was the trauma of the cruelty I received from my parents that brought on the illusion of what happened to me. According to her, none of that ever occurred and it was just my broken psyche, attempting to make sense of my abuse. She said the stories I read as a child fuelled my overactive imagination and that the first step to healing, is to accept that.

After a while, I started to believe it myself but deep, deep down, I knew that what happened to me was real, I knew that one day, I would become the Baba Yaga.

I didn’t have much of a life though. I suffered from constant nightmares, I lived a very lonely and isolated existence. It wasn’t much different to how I grew up so I didn’t mind.

I am much, much older now and I still don’t truly know when the time will come or when she will come back for me. I will say one thing though, lately, I’ve been feeling strange. I’ve been feeling...hungry. All the time. The nightmares have been becoming more vivid, more lucid. I dream of eating hearts, I dream of burning children, men, and women, and devouring their hearts.

I’ve been seeing Baba Yaga too. At first, it was in my dreams but now I see her at night before I go to sleep. She crouches on the top of my wardrobe, waiting for me, watching me. Smiling, always smiling.

I think it’s going to happen soon.

Now, all I crave for, all I think about is...blood.