Encounters Anthology

Lullaby

Not far from what would have been a bombing site, laid the unknown tomb of mothers. So many bodies had been piled up on top of each other over time that the site had become a hill overlooking the city's landscape. Now people saw it as a place to spend their evenings enjoying sundown and the horizon. The truth of this grave had been long forgotten as it was in a time where witches roamed and people feared them.

The blame of the creation of the hill belonged to a pregnant woman afraid of dying during childbirth; her name was Sara. Her pregnancy had been unwanted but the thought of raising a child excited her. It was just that she couldn't stand the idea of not being present during the baby's childhood. At least, that's the excuse she gave herself.

In her eighth month of pregnancy the woman began her search for a doctor that would guarantee that she would live long enough to see her child grow, but no doctor was able to say that the possibilities of her dying during childbirth were non-existent. In that time, a lot of women would die and their children would be left to be raised by their fathers or grandmothers. Sara knew that she could not depend on her baby's father, he wanted nothing to do with her, he had said that how could such a whore be certain that he was the father. Her mother was not an option either; she never met her, her mother had died at childbirth and her grandmother raised her.

Blinded by her own fears Sara decided to look for what she called "an unconventional solution". She went deep into the woods looking for an old woman rumoured to perform miracles, but most people stayed away because they knew that the woman was not a saint and the only thing she had in common with the higher realm was that she was Satan's pawn. But against all warnings, Sara still looked for something that would guarantee that she wouldn't die during childbirth.

As Sara approached a small cottage by the forest's lake a soft voice started singing into her mind.

Everything comes at a price

What you want is what I have

Over and over she heard those words, and as she opened the door a cold breeze brushed against her skin making her feel thousands of bugs crawl over her body, warning her of the consequences, but her will to see her child's infancy was too strong, so she stepped inside desperate for a reality where she would see her child grow.

The old woman sat in the middle of the room, waiting for Sara's arrival. Sara was scared; a circle drawn by chalk and illuminated by black candles surrounded the woman. There were no windows, but the dim lighting was enough for Sara to be able to see the white fabrics that touched the woman's wrinkly skin. The woman was beautiful. Her old skin wasn't enough to stop her overwhelming beauty. The woman raised her hand and invited Sara into the circle, the moment she leaned toward the woman she was pulled into the floor. Sara felt helpless, she could no longer move; the old woman stepped out of the circle and with a silver knife she cut Sara's skin from her lower back up to the nape of her neck. Sara couldn't scream; when the woman stood in front of her all the beauty had disappeared, Lucifer's daughter was in front of her, eyes reflecting a blood moon. The knife touched her belly and sank into her skin until the hilt stoped it from going any further, then the woman began making symbols using her cut skin. Sara was terrified, she wanted to run and to scream, but she couldn't. She could only lie there and wait for the pain to make her pass out.

Sara woke up safe in her house, no marks and no scars. The only difference was that she was now nine months pregnant and she had woken up from the labour pain. She walked out of her tiny home and yelled for help; the birth was long and painful but she didn't die. She survived and was able to raise her beautiful child; the night she had gone to the old woman's cottage seemed like a bad dream now and Sara had assumed that the price she had to pay was the lost time of her pregnancy and the pain of the labour, but she was wrong. The price for that was bigger than she had imagined and only the townsfolk would know what had been paid in exchange of a longer life.

The day Sara's child turned twelve, foam came out of her mouth and blood dripped down from a gash made long ago on her back. Sara died in pain and for the next ten years mothers whose children turned twelve died the same way. The people knew the mothers were cursed, so no one dared to go near the place where they had died, they were afraid the curse would pass on to them, but the stench of death never came from their death beds, instead, the smell descended from a hill that each day became higher and the only explanation to how this was happening was given by a boy who looked after goats. He said that every night a woman quiet as the stars took the mothers to that hill and let them rot with each other. Eventually there were no more children, the women were afraid of death and the only thing allowing them to live was their seclusion in the forest, always afraid of being lured into the old woman's song.