Where the Devil Says Goodnight (Folk Lore 1)

Adam tried to shake off the fuzziness clouding his mind. No matter how desperately he wanted to trust Emil, evidence suggested he shouldn’t take him at face value. It wasn’t impossible that Emil had lied to him, seduced him, and now had inserted himself into Adam’s life for good. Because with the house burned down, Emil would be staying at the parsonage. In the same room as Adam. Like a snake wrapped around Adam.

The crows, the black goat. The fact that when Emil couldn’t come up with a reason not to leave Dybukowo, the universe had come up with one for him. The way strange things seemed to always happen to Adam when Emil was around. It couldn’t all be coincidental. His grandmother was a Whisperer, and Emil had burned down his own parents’ house.

Maybe Adam should leave after all? Now that he thought about this morning’s events, Emil’s behavior made less and less sense. The demon had struck again. It had attacked the man Emil claimed to love, yet instead of supporting Adam’s decision to go, Emil persuaded him to stay in the very place where all the problems had started.

Adam hated his own thoughts but wasn’t this exactly how gaslighting worked? He wouldn’t know the truth until it was too late.

He would leave. If Emil didn’t want to join him yet, he could go first and call him from the safety of his parents’ home in Warsaw. If Emil was as innocent as he claimed, they could work things out after that.

“Adam? Are you awake?” Father Marek asked. His shoes made a lot of noise on the old kitchen floor, providing Adam and Emil enough time to pull away from one another.

“Yes. Is something wrong? I’m sorry I stayed in bed so long.”

The pastor entered, flushed as if he’d ran the entire length of the churchyard. “It’s fine, but you need to take over confession duty. Mr. Robak’s taken a turn for the worse, and I need to perform the last rites on him.”

Adam put the apple down and rose. “Of course,” he said, even though he had no intention to waste time in the confessional when his life was falling apart.

“You start in fifteen minutes.”

This was good. If Emil thought Adam was busy, he’d find himself something else to do and leave Adam to make up his mind about fleeing Dybukowo in such haste. Making any kind of decision would be much easier away from Emil and his lips. A hare wouldn’t stand still while the wolf explained it wasn’t hungry. It would run. And so would Adam.

Emil squeezed Adam’s hand as soon as the pastor rushed off. “Do you need me there?”

Adam smiled despite fear already being a cold presence in his veins. Was this Emil trying to keep tabs on him? “No. Rest. I’ll be back in an hour,” he said, rising before Emil could have gotten the kiss he leaned in for.

“I might go see the… house later today. I’m dreading it. Would you come with me?”

Sure. Just slice my heart open.

“Of course,” Adam lied, even though all his instincts screamed when he looked out the window and saw the pastor drive off in the only vehicle Adam had access to.

He was trapped, at least until the pastor was back and could lend him the car.

Glad that he didn’t have to finish breakfast in Emil’s company, he took a quick shower and dressed, plagued by suspicions that tightened around his chest and neck like tentacles about to squeeze the life out of him. The dark shadows of the confessional were his solace, and as he listened to old ladies confessing mundane things and spoke to a man going through marital issues, the discomfort eased gradually.

As if taking time to consider other people’s problems and daily pains eased some of his own. At least up until a point.

“It’s terrible business.”

Adam flinched awake from his own thoughts and peeked through the lattice at Mrs. Dyzma’s wrinkled face. Her features were set now, and her eyes glistened, as if she was done confessing her everyday misdeeds and wanted to talk of something less ordinary. “I’m sorry?”

“That poor man in Sanok. Killed by rabid crows like our Zofia. My son insisted to walk me here so I wouldn’t be out on my own. He’s such a good boy still,” she said, but Adam’s mind already plunged into a well of mercury, and every time he tried to come up for breath he was pulled back in.

“A man in Sanok?”

“Yes a young farmer with two beautiful daughters. We should all pray for his family.”

Adam’s chest frantically moved up and down, pumping air at a pace that had his head spinning. He had no way of explaining why, but knew who this was about, and despite the horror of this news, he couldn’t bring himself to feel sorry for Piotr.