The Cursed (The Unearthly)

We pulled out of the inn. Now in the light of day, I could see that we were in fact on the edges of the city. The inn rested on a hill, giving me a panoramic view of Cluj-Napoca.

 

Everywhere I looked I saw red roof tiles, domes, and spires. The city was a thing of the past, at least to my California-grown eyes. The closer I looked, the more modern architecture I saw tucked away between rooflines. But the effect wasn’t lost. No wonder the supernatural world so easily made its home here. Everything about the place seemed a little fantastical.

 

 

 

The car ride took us further and further out of the city, until trees replaced buildings. A short while later Grigori pulled off the road.

 

We got out of the car, and Grigori passed Caleb and me each a pair of latex gloves. “Use these once we enter the woods. Anything in there could potentially be a part of the crime scene.”

 

I removed my knit gloves to put on the latex ones. As soon as I did so, I could practically feel my warmth leaving me through my fingertips.

 

I could be enjoying hot chocolate right now in the comfort of my dorm room.

 

Grigori’s gaze moved from us to some distant point in the woods. “I have to warn you,” he said to us, “this forest will play tricks on your senses.”

 

Already I could feel some ominous presence press down on me. I wondered what Leanne would think if she were here. I smiled sardonically. She wouldn’t come within ten miles of this place … unless it was to protect me. My smile fell from my lips. I shouldn’t be here, I didn’t want to be here—especially after talking with Andre last night—but that didn’t stop me from following Grigori and Caleb into the forest.

 

A chilly fog hung low in the woods; it dampened my jeans and made my surroundings appear all the more sinister. The trees around me stood straight and tall, their branches bare of leaves.

 

 

 

I saw no woodland creatures, but I heard scuttling and saw barren trees rustle. If I listened hard enough, I could make out the quiet heartbeats of the animals that lived here. Haunted or not, at least something lived in Hoia Baciu forest.

 

We trekked through the woods for ten minutes before I glimpsed the crime scene tape. Beyond it was … nothing extraordinary. It looked like every other square foot of forest I’d passed. Barren trees, fallen leaves, some scattered rocks.

 

My nostrils flared. While I hadn’t seen anything unusual, my nose picked up the sickly sweet smell of blood and decay.

 

Next to me I noticed Grigori scent the air. I furrowed my brows, wondering what kind of supernatural he was. Something with a good sense of smell. If I had to guess, I’d place money on a therianthrope—a were-creature.

 

When we reached the tape, Grigori lifted it so that Caleb and I could duck through. Once the three of us crossed the barrier, the smell of blood and carnage became sharper and more complex. I closed my eyes to better focus on the scent. Something pure overlaid the tangy, fetid smell of death.

 

Angel blood.

 

So many residual scents flavored this most overpowering smell, but before I could read further into them, Caleb’s breath caught. I let my eyes flutter open.

 

We stood in the middle of a small clearing. The trees around us contorted into unnatural shapes. But that wasn’t what had caught my partner’s attention.

 

 

 

In the center of the clearing rested a stone altar. Vines twisted up its sides, some dead, some living. The victim’s scent was strongest there.

 

“What is a stone altar doing in the middle of forest?” I asked.

 

“We don’t know,” Grigori said, his voice frustrated.

 

I crept closer. A maroon stain had dried on the altar’s surface. Nausea rose at the sight. I put the back of my hand to my mouth and collected myself. A stone altar resting along a ley line—that couldn’t be good. It looked as though it had grown up from the ground, as though the earth itself demanded payment for its magic.

 

Behind me a twig cracked. I threw a glance over my shoulder, thinking Caleb was behind me. I was wrong.

 

Something shifted between the trees, but then it was gone. The tempo of my heartbeat increased. It felt as though the whole forest was watching us.

 

“Have you seen anything like it before?” Grigori asked. If he felt foolish for asking a teenager such a question, he didn’t show it.

 

I turned back and stared at the altar, seeing it even as a different image played out in my mind’s eye. One where the altar was located in a cathedral made of bones. On it my friend lay, unconscious, and then later, dead.

 

“Yes,” I said solemnly, remembering the things that had crowded around that altar. “I have seen something like it once before.”

 

I felt Death’s finger draw down my spine.

 

 

 

“And … ?” Grigori prompted.

 

I took a deep breath. “I saw it on the night of Samhain, when the devil took me.”

 

I glanced at Grigori, just to make sure that he knew what I was talking about. He nodded. “I have heard the story of your abduction..”

 

“One of the places he took me to was an ossuary,” I said. “When we arrived, my friend’s doppelganger lay unconscious on an altar not so different from this one.” I swallowed the lump in my throat before I spoke again. “The devil ordered her killed, and …” I worked my jaw, “a group of beings the devil commanded slit her throat.”

 

Both Caleb and Grigori were silent while they processed my words. “Did they drain her blood?” Grigori finally asked.

 

“They didn’t,” I said, “but I don’t know if they were planning to. The ossuary … exploded right after this.”

 

A grim silence descended once more as we turned our attention back to the crime scene. Dread and something like acceptance cloaked me. This murder might very well be the work of the devil.

 

 

I circled the altar, eyeing its bloodstained surface.

 

“Do you know what the beings were that stood around the altar in the ossuary?” Caleb asked.

 

I glanced up at him, thinking about the robed things that had killed my friend. They’d seemed to be made of shadow.

 

I shook my head. “I have no clue.”

 

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