A Stranger In The Snow

This is the sixth story in a multi-piece series with losely connected plots I call "Die Märchen von einem österreichischen Mädchen" (The Tales of an Austrian Maiden) and it is a somewhat different venture of the Viennese Ghost, where she takes on a more wholesome role, for a bit. All said stories will be regarding the misadventures of Elizabeth's Dietrichsditter, The Viennese Ghost. The other parts of the series can be found at the bottom of the page.

## **A Stranger In The Snow** *by Bloodyspaghetti*

Mikhailo held his daughter, Anastasia, by her hand as he walked her on the frozen path into the forest. Nastia didn’t question her father once he had told her she has to go hiding in the forest for a while. She knew about the famine, and she knew bad people could come to her house at any moment. For her juvenile mind, it made all the sense in the world when her parents decided to hide her away in the forest from all that bad stuff.

Nastia withdrew her head deeper into her woolen hood as the chilling winter blew across her face. She looked at her father with an innocent smile on her face, asking, “Papa, how long will I have to hide?”

Mikhailo’s heart sunk to his ankles, he didn’t know how to digest the little girl’s question for he had no answer of his own to offer. He wasn’t supposed to get her back home; there was no real danger. There was just not enough food to feed the whole family.

His wife, Martha, she convinced him to send his daughter from his previous marriage, little Nastia, to her death to make sure the three of them survived. Mikhailo became lost in thought. He didn’t even know why he agreed to send away his beloved child, his firstborn. If she had been a son; Martha wouldn’t dare to propose such an idea. Why even had to be Nastia, why not Martha’s child with her previous husband, Alissa? She was younger and didn’t offer any helping hand around the house.

The soft voice of his child disrupted Mikhailo’s pondering calling out to him, “Papa, are you daydreaming again?” She laughed.

“Ah… yes… I’m daydreaming again… Uh, I don’t know, my angel, it won’t be too long.” He responded to his child. He hated lying.

“Alright then, papa!” Anastasia proclaimed cheerfully.

Not too long after, the two reached a burrow in a snow-covered hill large enough to fit a group of people inside. Mikhailo picked up Nastia to his arms and carried her inside the burrow, hugging her tightly before placing her on the cold soil below.

“You stay here, little angel until the troubles at home are over.” He told her.

“Okay, Papa!” she smiled at him.

“I’ll see you soon, little pumpkin!” he waved her goodbye as he fought back the tears in his eyes.

“Bye-bye!” the little girl called out to her father.

Once Mikhailo was far enough from the burrow, he finally broke down, falling onto the snow and crying in despair. He had condemned his little girl to death.

After he had cried his eyes out, he crawled back home, like the defeated man he was. Back home his wife, Martha, greeted him with a warm kiss. “Is it done?” she questioned.

“Y-yes…”

“I love you”, she said as she showered him in kisses.

Mikhailo did not feel the bodily warmth of his wife as she attempted to make love to him, all he could feel was the burn of a frozen blade piercing at his heart.

\*\*\*

The hours passed slowly as Anastasia sat in the snow-covered burrow. At first, she entertained herself by playing with the snow, but eventually, her gloves had gotten soaked and her hands became too cold to play. Then she sang songs to herself, but eventually, the cold air surrounding her made it tough to sing. So, little Nastia slumped herself against the wall of the burrow and fell asleep.

That wasn’t hard at all, even though she had stopped napping a while ago, the winter air made a nap seem like a very plausible solution to the girl’s boredom problem. She felt herself becoming heavy and numb. Her muscles slowly relaxed as she took one deep breath after the other.

Softly yawning, her eyes finally shut themselves closed.

Little Nastia dreamed about making a snowman that had come to life and built her a massive castle of ice and snow adorned with red paintings of birds and trees. She dreamed of being a queen in a land made of ice until her father came to take her back home where she would live happily ever after.

the sound of feet ruffling in the ground beside her awoke little Nastia up from her blissful slumber.

Rubbing her still sleepy eyes, she called out, “Hello?”

“Hello, little girl. What are you doing here alone?” a woman’s voice called out back to her.

Little Nastia straightened her body into a seated position, still rubbing her eyes, “I am sorry, my mom said I shouldn’t talk to strangers…”

The woman laughed in clear delight, “That’s fair.”

“Aha,” little Nastia yawned, “Oh, pardon for asking, but aren’t you cold like this, Miss?”

The woman who stood before the little girl wore a simple cape around her form, to the little girl it didn’t seem warm enough to keep anyone safe from the cold outside. Her deep brown eyes seemed distant and aloof and the skin on her hands seemed a little pale to the little girl.

The woman chuckled once more, “Oh, no-no. Don’t worry, dear. I am alright.”

“That’s good.” Little Nastia smiled at the woman.

“I thought you’re not supposed to be talking to me.” The woman teased the little girl.

“I am not, but I try to be nice. You seem pale and that’s not good. Papa told me so.” little Nastia responded.

“He’s a smart man, your papa.” The woman knelt to the girl, petting her hair.

“The smartest!” Little Nastia called out at the top of her lungs.

The woman began laughing at the remark, before questioning again, “Can you tell me your name, after all?”

Little Nastia pondered for a moment and relented, “My name is Anastasia, but everyone calls me Nastia. Papa calls me his angel.”

The woman’s interest peaked, “Well tell me, Nastia, why are you here again?”

Little Nastia’s expression soured a bit, “Papa said there would be troubles and that he wanted me to be safe.”

The woman stood back up to her feet, a stern expression forming on her previously jovial face. She pulled out a loaf of bread from within her cloak and offered it to the little girl.

Nastia’s stomach rumbled as she saw the loaf and she immediately apologized for her unmannered stomach.

“That’s okay, you can have it, Nastia.” The woman’s facial features mellowed down again as she handed the little girl the loaf of bread.

“We’ve to keep you safe then.” She remarked as she began making her way out of the burrow.

“Thank you, Miss!” Little Nastia called out as she bit on the warm piece of bread offered to her by a stranger in the snow.

The woman merely smiled as she made her way out of the burrow and back into the snowfall.

\*\*\*

Three days had passed since Mikhailo had left his daughter to die from the elements. The pain was still fresh in his heart; He couldn’t stop thinking about his little angel. He would cry whenever nobody could see. He was wrestling with the idea that what he had done was the right thing for the sake of the family. To himself, he seemed like a monster. He knew he should’ve resisted the requests of his wife, but he couldn’t find the strength to do so.

That night, Martha approached her husband and requested he return the corpse of their elder daughter. Martha proclaimed that she wanted the child to have a proper Christian burial and with a great clenching pain in his heart, Mikhailo forced himself to agree.

Initially, he wanted to make the journey in the morning, but couldn’t make himself fall asleep and there was no alcohol in town to help him relax his racing mind. Thus, he made sure his wife and second child were both sound asleep before he made his way out of his little house and into the forest. He could hold back the tears and cried his eyes out the whole way to the burrow where he had instructed his little angel to remain.

As her husband made his journey to retrieve his daughter’s dead body, Martha dreamed of being in her field; In her dream, a massive bird followed her around, wherever she went. Eventually, she called the bird to descend from the sky and so the flying beast landed in a massive gust of wind in front of Martha, nearly knocking her off her feet.

The sight of the bird up close made Martha shutter in discomfort as a knot formed in her stomach. The creature had an elongated woman-like visage for a head. Its eyes blank like two orbs of ice.

In a voice that should belong to a toad, the beast proclaimed, “The… Angel… Will… Come… Home… On… A… Chest… Of… Gold…”

The voice of the animal cut its way through Martha’s eardrums causing her to cry in pain by the time the beast flew away once more.

The woman then woke up, tears flowing down her cheeks, the nightmare was finally over.

She turned to her husband only to find him gone.

Mikhailo at this point had reunited with his little angel, and his eyes formed rivers of tears streaming down his cheeks as he saw his little girl, his little Nastia, sitting on a wooden chest flicking her legs in the air.

“Papa!” she called out to him once she saw him approaching.

“Nastia… dear... How…” he cried out in sheer disbelief.

“Oh Papa, don’t cry!” she began crying, and the two embraced.

“I… I… I… just missed you, pumpkin!” Mikhailo cried out while squeezing his daughter’s body tightly.

“I missed you too, Papa!” Little Nastia cried out.

Mikhailo wiped the tears off his cheeks and stared at the wooden chest, “where did you get this?” he questioned as he pointed at the wooden structure.

“A woman in a cape gave it to me. There’s lots of food and some fancy jewelry there.” little Nastia exclaimed proudly as she wiped her face clean.

“Really?” Mikhailo was bewildered, who could get such a treasure box in such a time in this land.

There was a famine and a mysterious woman had been giving out food and jewelry. Something seemed wrong about the whole situation to the delighted father, but he didn’t press the matter too much.

“Open it, Papa! Open and see for yourself.” little Nastia urged her father to open the chest.

Mikhailo had no choice but to obey his little princess, and so he did. He opened the chest and his jaw almost unhinged itself from his head. He had never seen so much food and gold in one space. It was filled to the brim with goods, almost overflowing.

He ran his hand across the contents of the chest and his fingers stumbled upon a small skull made of gold. He picked it up and inspected it thoroughly. Something didn’t feel right about this, but his daughter kept on claiming that she had eaten this food for days and nothing was wrong with her.

Once again, Mikhailo let his weak character show itself and he conceded to the wishes of the girl to take the chest back home with them.

\*\*\*

Once in sight, Martha was shocked to see that Mikhailo was not carrying a corpse, but walking side by side with her stepdaughter, Anastasia. She was surprised even more by the large wooden chest they were carrying together.

“How… How was your time away, honey?” Martha asked, petting little Nastia on the head as she walked past her.

“It was fine, Ma, a nice woman kept me company and gave me lots of food.” The girl proudly exclaimed.

“Really now?” Martha inquired, not taking her eyes off the chest.

“Yeah!” Little Nastia called out.

Mikhailo kissed his wife on the lips before lowering the chest on the ground and saying, “Are troubles are over now.”

“Yes!” little Nastia reaffirmed it as they both opened the chest revealing the food and gold.

What must’ve looked like heavenly mana to Martha ignited her eyes, and she kissed her husband passionately, then hugged her stepdaughter surprisingly tightly.

“How… How… did you get… that?” she questioned, the shine of golden objects still glowing in her eyes.

“A lady in the snow gave this to me because I was a nice girl to her!”, little Nastia exclaimed proudly.

“I just found her sitting on this chest when I came to pick her up, my love,” Mikhailo explained.

The sight of gold had blinded Martha, and she couldn’t stop thinking about the wealth she had possessed. “I see…” she responded, almost in a deathly tone.

As she led her husband and stepdaughter back home, a plan began taking shape in her head, if someone was giving out food and money to children in need in the forest; she’d send her daughter, Alissa, there. Surely her biological daughter was a better child than this farm stock her husband brought with him into the marriage.

And so, as the night fell, Martha told her husband of her plan to get even further away from an impoverished life, urging him to take Alissa to the woods as well.

He tried telling her about the skull he saw in the chest, but Martha dismissed it as artistic.

He would have none of it, but Martha threw a fit, and he had to relent.

Once more, his weakness of character had led Mikhailo into the trap of his wife.

And so, the next morning; he took his younger daughter to the same burrow where his eldest had hidden from the snow. The whole trip, Alissa bickered with and complained to her father. She screamed and trashed at him for taking her out into the forest in this freezing winter. She cursed her mother when he told her it was her idea and belittled her whole family for falling to the tricks of some wicked criminal.

It delighted Mikhailo to have a little break from his wife’s awful child, he could never get along with her and only tried to for the sake of his marriage.

\*\*\*

Three days had passed and before Mikhailo was about to go into the forest and bring Alissa back home Martha had another dream, the dream was once more about the monstrous bird; Martha dreaded it. She wanted none of it, so this time, she didn’t call the bird. When that did not awake her, she began pinching and hitting herself, but even that would not help. Eventually, the bird lost patience. It screeched across the sky, sending the painful words etching into Martha’s eardrums, making her fall to her knees. The beast screamed out angrily in a demonic voice; “Ugly! Monster! Unruly! Wild! Undeserving! Death! Suffering! Hades!”

Mikhailo was getting ready to make the journey to bring Alissa back home when Martha woke up from her nightmare, teary-eyed she begged him to join. He agreed, seeing her emotional state. She kept crying about the nightmare the whole way to the burrow while Mikhailo tried his best to calm her down.

It didn’t work.

\*\*\*

While her parents were gone, little Nastia, sat at home and read her books. She had completed her chores, and she was free to do as she please, her parents, however, warned her to not open the door to anyone but them.

As she was preoccupied with the world she had imagined in her book, a knock echoed from the front door.

“Who’s there?” Nastia called out as she shot up from her chair.

“It’s me, Nastia.” A familiar voice echoed from the other side of the door.

Nastia smiled a wide smile and ran towards the door. It was her friend, the one who had helped her stay warm and gave her food and shiny jewelry in the burrow.

The little girl opened the door to the woman standing on the other side, the woman rubbed Nastia’s hair and asked if she could enter.

“Of course!” the little girl responded as she led her guest inside.

The woman knelt in front of Nastia and pulled a little object from within her cloak.

“This is for you, little angel, however, you’ve to keep it a secret from everyone for now… okay?” she handed the necklace to the little girl who grasped at the little white pendant.

Little Nastia smiled widely before placing her finger on her lips.

“Good girl! Now I must go, I’ll be back some day and just know, from now on, everything will get better for you, little angel.” The woman said as she walked towards the door.

The little girl stood there for a moment, waving at her friend goodbye before walking back to her chair and wearing her new necklace. The pendant, it felt familiar; like the bones, their old dog Bruce used to chew on. She dismissed the resemblance and sank back into the world she envisioned from in her book.

\*\*\*

As the couple approached the burrow where Mikhailo had left Alissa they saw two small legs standing behind a tree. Martha immediately thought her little girl was standing there, and she rushed towards the tree.

As she ran, she noticed something on the ground below her feet.

The snow was filled with red patches.

Her pace had slowed down as she kept looking at the red patches in the snow.

“M… Misha…” she called out to her husband who was lagging, her voice shaking.

Mikhailo didn’t respond.

Martha kept on walking, at a painfully slow pace, repeatedly calling for her husband who wouldn’t respond. She kept walking like this until she reached the tree behind which the legs stood.

She let out a blood-freezing scream.

Martha fell to the ground, screaming like a dying animal as she repeatedly pointed at a pair of severed legs planted in the snow. A pair of legs belonging to a little girl.

Mikhailo still didn’t respond.

Martha kept on screaming and crawling in the snow hysterically until she rolled down the small hillside slope.

She lifted herself off the snow in a pained groan as she tried grasping at her husband’s body.

He stood there, motionless, almost frozen in time.

“M… M… Mi…”

Her blood turned to ice once she saw what caused her husband to fall silent; it was the body of a girl bisected at the torso pinned to a tree by her ribs.

Martha shrieked inhumanly once she noticed it was her daughter whose lower half was sawed off and her guts were hanging like tentacles below her in the frozen landscape. Her ribcage broken off into the shape of wings on her back and lower jaw missing, leaving the tongue to hang loosely in the air. The girl’s arms were contorted in unnatural angles, and her eyes were dangling by their nerves from their sockets forming the shape of a demonic entity nailed to the tree in an unholy parody of the crucifixion.

Martha withered and rolled on the snow screaming and crying and cursing in tongues. She wanted to touch her daughter’s body but could not bring herself to touch the dismembered carrion. The more time passed the louder she shrieked and yelled profanities into the air. Her husband, he stood there, simply watching; his mind consumed by a cocktail of terror and disbelief.

The couple, they remained in their spots until the sun reached the noon sky, Mikhailo urged his wife to get up and call the police but she was having none of it. She just kept on wailing and thrashing like a child throwing a tantrum.

Mikhailo begged and pleaded with his wife. He even tried to drag her away. She, however, wouldn’t leave the site of her daughter’s remains.

Finally, the man had snapped; he let go of his wife and made his way back to his home. It hurt him nearly as much it had hurt his wife to lose the child, but he couldn’t bring himself to sit next to that wretched pile of bones and waste away. He knew he had to keep on living. He knew he had another daughter, his daughter at home, waiting for him. He knew this was not the way to deal with this.

He made his way home and knocked on the front door, a small voice came from inside, “Who’s there?”

He answered, “It’s me, little angel.” His voice was tired and weary but clear enough for his little girl to understand him and open the door. His daughter greeted him with a big hug.

Little Nastia clutched at her father’s coat and looked around, seeing that her stepmother and stepsister weren’t in sight, she asked, “Papa, where are Ma and Alissa?”

He knew he shouldn’t have been lying to her, but he was tired and broken, he had dealt with enough. He didn’t want to see his little angel break down and suffer as he had like his wife and stepdaughter had. He knew he had to bend the truth to uphold the peace. He knew his daughter would understand, after all, she knew what the world around them was like. He patted her on the head, smiled, and said, “They said they would be gone for a while. To do some… Mother-daughter stuff…”

Little Nastia scoffed and said, “Oh…” she paused for a moment and then broke her silence with a question that made Mikhailo's whole body stiffen; "Are we in trouble now, Papa?"

Mikhailo was at a loss for words, knowing all to well that his daughter had probably figured out he was lying. He stood there for a moment that felt like eternity contemplating his next move. The innocent gaze in his daughter's eyes seemed almost sinister. He knew he had to say something, swallowing his saliva he weakly responded with the voice of a man possessed by fear, "N..o... We are not."

Little Nastia didn't seem to notice the shift in his tone, enthusiastically answering, “Okay! I made dinner!”

“You made me dinner?” Mikhailo smiled and picked up his little girl into the air. “Wow, thank you, my little angel!”

Once Mikhailo sat down to eat his dinner, a thought crossed his mind, “Hey little angel, did anyone come knocking before me?” he inquired.

The little girl smiled slyly before looking at her father, “No, papa.”

\*\*\*

The Soviet authorities eventually caught wind of Martha, and they found her in the same spot, looking like a maddened bagger. They thought she had gone mad with the hunger because of the famine at first. Then they found Alissa’s decomposing remains on a makeshift altar, after that Martha was arrested.

She was later executed by a firing squad for the crimes of filicide and cannibalism.

It was surmised that Martha Prudius couldn’t handle the constant hunger and thus butchered her daughter and then ate what she could of the girl. Her husband had attested that she took their daughter, Alissa, and ran away from the house one night shortly after having a hysteric breakdown over seemingly nothing.

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