An overwhelming breath brushed my face as I dreamed of monotonous images from the past. I opened my eyes, and there she was, right in front of me. Her eyes stared at me with a suffocating intensity. I jumped in fright and fell off the table where I'd been sleeping. Then I crawled backward, cornering myself against the wall.
Was it the same girl from before? Her dirty, dusty hair covered half her face. Her peasant dress was threadbare and dusty. Yes... it was her. The same one holding a saw in her hand, with that unnatural, wishful smile, as if she were about to do something to me, I couldn't even imagine.
Who is she? Where was I now, and why was I still alive?
"Good morning, my dear soldier," she said in a cheerful, surreal voice.
She was now approaching me. Oh, no. What is she going to do to me?
"Jill! What did we talk about last night?" A gruff voice interrupted from nearby.
It was him. The old man from last night. He wore the same dirty clothes, the same unbearable smell. He approached the little girl and scolded her harshly, and she lowered her head, pouting in disgust.
"Come on, go back to your room! I told you not to leave without permission!"
The girl shuffled away, then the old man turned toward me. I didn't remember him entirely, but now I could see him clearly: bald, with some white hair on the back of his neck, wrinkled and yellowish skin, a skinny body with a prominent belly. He wore a stained undershirt, old suspenders, and equally dirty black pants. He wore glasses, and some of his teeth were silver. From where I stood, I could smell burnt wood and a slaughterhouse on his breath.
I didn't know where I was or what they wanted from me. There was nothing normal about that place; it unsettled and terrified me. I didn't trust that old man at all; I wouldn't let them hurt me. I needed something to defend myself with, anything. A knife? The saw? But... What if they were armed? Damn! I was cornered. And worse…
I felt no pain.
"What the hell…?" I whispered to myself.
The wound didn't hurt anymore. What was happening?
"You look scared, boy, but don't worry. We won't hurt you," the old man said. "And you don't have to worry about that wound anymore. Check yourself."
"Huh?"
I lifted my shirt with trembling hands. The wound was healed, still tender, but not as swollen or painful as before. I couldn't remember anything. Was he the one who treated me?
"Calm down, take my hand," he said, moving closer.
His nails were black, and his fingers covered in grime. His face seemed kind… but his expression didn't inspire confidence. After a few seconds of hesitation, I accepted his help. He lifted me up and offered me a chair. He also grabbed a chair and sat across from me, staring at me as if peering into my soul. His yellowish eyes, riddled with veins and cataracts, didn't blink.
"You... you healed me?" I asked, my voice barely able to speak properly.
"Who else would? No one else lives here, just Jill and me."
So... This is a ghost town? Impossible. Why?
"Just… you two? In the whole town?"
"That's right, we've been alone for years. I've done everything I could to take care of Jill. She never got seriously ill, thank God. We're too far away from everything to go find a doctor."
"I see..." I replied, hesitantly.
He didn't seem like a bad person, despite his appearance. But the place... everything... gave me the creeps.
"I don't want to bother you, but... What happened to the rest of the town? Did the Unionists arrive?"
"No, the Yankees had nothing to do with it. What happened here was… different."
"Different?"
"You see" he sighed deeply. "This used to be a quiet town of farmers and ranchers. It didn't take long for everything to go to hell. Have you heard of the Hohchifos?"
"Hohchifos?"
"Yes. Legend says they're creatures from hell, the dark invocation of an eccentric wizard, who was sentenced to be hanged for practicing witchcraft in this town."
"What exactly did that… wizard do?"
"Things began to go wrong when that wizard practices led to extreme fears of madness, sending a powerful wave of evil toward the crops. Livestock died. Even newborn babies had deformities like multiple eyes and limbs."
I leaned forward, intrigued, but also fearful. The old man leaned closer to whisper to me, and his breath made me recoil in disgust.
"People believed it was divine punishment, perhaps for slavery. But when he was discovered, they hanged him. But his death wasn't the end. Before he died, he cast a curse."
"What happened next?"
"The wizard summoned the Hohchifos," he whispered. "Creatures of hell. Demons that brought misfortune."
I found it hard to believe. It sounded like an exaggerated story, something I'd never seen in any newspaper or heard of before. How could it be real?
"And those... beings? Were they the ones who destroyed the village?"
"That's right," he said somberly. "They took the souls. They slaughtered everyone and left the mangled bodies to rot in the streets until they brought the vultures to life. I survived; I was still young after what happened."
"And when did all this happen?"
"Fifty years ago."
"Fifty?" I repeated, puzzled. "And how did you survive?"
"You ask a lot of questions," he said with a tight smile. "Are you hungry?"
"Uh… n-no, thanks. I'm fine."
"Come on, I can smell the emptiness in your stomach."
"I don't want to bother you."
"You're not bothering me. It would be an honor to invite you to lunch."
I had so many doubts. Everything about this house gave me a bad feeling. The atmosphere, the smell, the confusing memories. With what I'd just heard and everything I'd been through, I'd completely lost my appetite. But I couldn't say no so easily.
"Wait here a moment."
The old man stood up and left. I stayed only a few seconds. My body tensed. When he returned, he was carrying a pot that gave off a familiar smell: stew.
"What's that?" I asked.
"Cow stew. I know you'll like it. Come, sit at the table."
I approached cautiously and sat down at the table. I didn't take my eyes off him.
"How did you get the cow? I don't remember seeing any animals in the entire town."
He bursts out laughing.
"I hunt in the woods. Cows, deer, whatever. I never miss a shot."
"I see..." I replied with distrust.
I looked at the stew, and it looked ordinary. I poured some onto a plate. The meat was tough, but the flavor wasn't bad when I sipped it.
"It's… delicious" I said.
"I'm glad to hear that," he laughed with satisfaction.
We ate in silence for a few moments. Then he broke the silence.
"Now tell me, boy. Who are you, and how did you get here?"
"Um… I don't remember it completely… but…"
"Jill! Come eat!" he suddenly shouted.
The girl appeared, walking with slow steps. She looked at me with a mixture of contempt and... something else. She sat at the table and ate eagerly. I, on the other hand, was losing my appetite with every second. This whole atmosphere continued to disturb me to no end.
"Now, then, what were you going to say?" the old man continued.
"My name is… Jonah."
"Jonah…? Hmm… it's a common name around here."
"Ah… Yes, of course. By the way… and you? Who are you?"
"My name is Phil, and she's Jill. She doesn't have a last name. I adopted her after her family fell victim to the Hohchifos. I've raised her ever since."
"I see. She's... a very nice girl," I said uncomfortably.
After saying that, Jill couldn't take her eyes off me while she ate. I didn't deny it, she was very cute, but something about her struck me as... off-putting. That night with the saw... I hadn't forgotten her.
"Thanks for the compliment, lad," Phil said. "She's always been cute since she was little, but don't be scared of her. She doesn't usually see new people, and she was surprised when she saw you."
"Ah… I understand."
"So tell me, Jonah? Where are you going? Are you a fugitive soldier?"
It didn't seem dangerous. They were Southerners, after all. I could trust him, at least a little.
"Yes, I escaped the war. I had no choice," I said, feeling undignified and ashamed.
"Don't feel guilty, lad. You didn't do anything wrong," he said passively, surprising me.
"Huh?"
"We've already lost that war, so... you're safe here. The Yankees don't come around here. If you want, you can stay."
"Thank you… but I must continue on my journey."
The old man was so kind to me, but… my purpose is not to stay here. I must return home, to my family—yes, my two cousins and my aunt are the only family I have left.
"You're a very sincere person, I like that. But no problem. You can leave whenever you want."
"Oh, really?"
"Of course, lad. I hope you enjoyed the stew."
That was… very unexpected, I was surprised by his willingness.
"But first..." Phil said, getting up from the table and walking over to a toolbox, similar to the one from last night. He took something out of it, a gun. He offered it to me.
"Come on, don't be shy. Take it."
I stared at the gun for a few seconds. It was a .51 Colt Navy. My hands were shaking, and then… I slowly grabbed the gun.
"That's the spirit, lad. Don't let the Hohchifos catch you."
"I'll… keep that in mind."
I didn't believe her story, but the gun was real, and I might need it on the road. Maybe the town had just been abandoned because of the war. Maybe Jill was like that because she grew up in such a strange place, with an even stranger man.
"Thank you very much for everything, Mr. Phil," I said seriously.
Finally, I will be able to continue on my path. Go home and pursue what I'd always wanted. A normal life.