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An enraged scream tore through the haunting quiet deep in the forest. Maria ran blindly through the dark woods, relying on the streams of moonlight puncturing the thick canopy and piercing the compacted fog to guide her. The mist blanketing the ground parted and swirled, disturbed by her escape, but swiftly reformed as though she was never there. She had never meant for this to happen, she had only wanted a cure, she had only wanted to save her mother. Stealing the cure and knocking a candle over, setting the witch’s cabin ablaze wasn’t the plan.
Maria’s heartbeat thundered in her ears like a stampede of horses, so loud she was sure her town outside the woods could hear. The forest rushed past her in a dark, sparsely light blur. Low hanging branches cut and scratched her at her face and arms, trying to pull her back, whilst spindly bushes tore at the skirts of her dress.
She fumbled with the opening of her leather messenger bag as the bottle slipped from her palms, slick with sweat. Prying the bag open, she shoved the bottle inside. her world suddenly shifted and she fell face first into the mist. Her chin hit a sharp rock, drawing blood, and causing her to bite her tongue, sending a spray of blood through her mouth. Looking back, she found her foot caught in a large root, obscured by the mist.
A second angered cry from the witch echoed through Maria’s surroundings, seeming to come from every direction. Maria scrambled to her feet, swallowing a cry of pain from her injured ankle and sprint onwards.
“Oh dear, have you injured yourself? Let Ivanushka help you.” Ivanushka’s spine-chilling cackle reverberated off Maria’s bones as she skid to a stop, searching for a hiding place within the maze of a forest. She stood in front of an enormous tree and pressed her back against the gnarled wood, feeling each groove, lump, and bump. Clutching the strap of her bag, she attempted to calm her rushed, shallow breaths. Inhaling felt as though someone was twisting a knife deep in her lungs, causing a slight whimper to escape her lips. She clamped her mouth shut and shuffled back to further press herself against the ancient tree. She expected the heel of her boot to hit the thick trunk, but instead found nothing. Looking down, Maria found the tree had an alcove spacious enough to fit her adolescent body, and scurried into the opening. She manoeuvred herself furthest from the opening, as though she could fuse with the tree. She attempted to wipe her sweaty palms on her dress, but only succeeded in spreading blood, sweat, and dirt over the torn yellow fabric. Gingerly inspecting her injuries, Maria found her tongue and ankle swollen and painful to the touch and the cut on her chin caked in dried blood.
Snap! Crack! Maria’s body froze like a deer in headlights as the breaking of twigs flowed to her ears, accompanied by heavy footsteps. Ivanushka’s feet came into view, freshly charred flesh still sizzling, and stopped in front of the tree. Clamping a grime covered hand over her mouth, Maria stifled her frantic breaths. Ivanushka crouched suddenly and reached into the tree, searching the alcove for her. Maria squeezed her eyes shut at the tears suddenly spilling out, her heart dropping to her stomach in despair, her entire body trembling like a leaf in the wind. After a moment, the arm retreated, with a grunt of annoyance from above, and Ivanushka moved on.
After waiting for what felt like an eternity, Maria crawled out of the alcove, as quiet as a mouse, and followed the closest stream of moonlight. A sharp stick illuminated by the beam of light caught Maria’s attention. She bent down and grasped it before she let out a cry of shock at being pulled back by her hair and slammed to the ground, a heavy weight pressed against her back. With the side of her face pressed against the cold ground, Maria saw from the corner of her eye Ivanushka’s face. The putrid stench of burnt flesh and singed hair burned her nose and clung to the roof of her mouth as she loomed over her. Her eyes were livid, glowing red, and her face twisted like the gnarled trees into a horrifying portrait of disgust and rage.
Ivanushka snarled, revealing rotten black teeth and hauled Maria up by her hair, scalp screaming in pain. Struggling against the iron grip, Maria fumbled for a solid hold on the stick, but as Ivanushka lifted her other arm to hit her, she thrust blindly and felt the stick strike deep into Ivanushka’s eye. She released her scalp, howling in pain, as Maria landed in a heap. Shocked at what she’d done, she took off, her legs powered by a new rush of adrenaline.
Maria sobbed in relief as the trees thinned and the fog dispersed. She was so close to home. She could survive, her mother could survive. As she weaved through the foliage, a figure appeared on the outskirts of the forest. Maria flung her arms wide and cried for help, screaming at the top of her lungs. As she neared, she recognised the hunched posture and thin frame of her mother. Bursting through the last of the flora, she crashed into her mother’s arms, hugging her tightly like a vice, and sobbing in relief and exhaustion. Her mother’s bony arms wrapped around her, smoothing her tangled hair. Maria pulled back suddenly in confusion and looked into her mother’s kind eyes, grey like hers. “Why are you outside? You should be on bed rest.”
Her mother lifted a hand and cupped her cheek. “Oh deary, you needn’t worry about her.” Her mother shifted and morphed, her features ageing a hundred years and new injuries appearing over her face.
Where her mother was standing, Ivanushka now stood, grinning in triumph at Maria’s pure, unadulterated terror.