Temptation

The night of this story was very hot and muggy. Everything indicated that a storm was approaching the gloomy and quiet village, bringing cold solace and fear to the inhabitants. Black clouds blanketed the starry sky with their tendrils, and the dead wind wailed from between the leaves of the ancient trees, unable to fly. As

midnight approached slowly and inexorably, the inhabitants of this beautiful and peaceful place returned to their homes, fearing a powerful storm. Fear filled the empty roads, and somewhere in the distance, the cries of angels could be heard, preceded by powerful flashes of anger from the sky. Another hour or two and burning clouds would dominate this land. Final preparations to secure homes occupied people's minds. Not everyone was afraid; in some families, one could meet people joking about the approaching powerful storm. People, confined to their small wooden huts, prayed with lit candles and crosses displayed in the windows, asking for protection. Children were settling into their clothes for bed, and adults were guarding their belongings. The next two hours would determine their fate. Thick air brushed against the houses, and the moon desperately tried to penetrate layers of jet-black clouds. Unable to sleep

,

Wojtek slowly rolled out of bed and quietly rose. He looked out the closed window at the sky burning in the distance. From behind the wall, he heard the terrified voices of his mother and sister. He was terrified, knowing that all it would take was one lightning bolt to set the house ablaze. With a trembling hand, he straightened his sweater and was about to lie back down in bed when a strange sight met his eyes. A beautiful white horse stood outside the window of his small, cozy room. Wojtek took a step back in surprise, catching his leg on a chair. After a moment, he regained his composure and approached the dusty window, wiping it, unable to believe his eyes. The wonderful beast stood directly in front of the window, staring at Wojtek. The storm was approaching faster and faster, and amidst the powerful flashes, the boy could see the horse's large, black eyes. Another clap of thunder shattered the silence like an old blanket, the cry of the old elms becoming even more ominous. At first, Wojtek wanted to call his father, but after a while, he gave up on the idea. He knew the people of the village and knew this horse wasn't theirs; it was beautiful, too beautiful. He decided to check things out for himself; after all, he was 16 and probably no longer a child

.

The sky burst into tears. The inhabitants had about half an hour to wait for the worst. Black tears rhythmically beat on the sandy ground, and the greedy earth absorbed them with delight into its warm interior. The horse remained standing fifteen meters from the slowly and quietly opening window. The excited boy pulled the waterproof blanket over his back, climbed onto the thick wooden windowsill, and gently jumped down, so that neither his praying mother nor his father, tending the animals, would hear. Even another clap of thunder could deter him.

The boy's feet sank into the wet, soft sand. A joyful wind rose and, with a smile, threw dead drops into Wojtek's face as he approached the mysterious white horse. That night, no one could sleep peacefully, and no one could notice the boy emerging. The horse stood gently shaking its blue, rain-soaked mane, its fur gleaming in the light of the heavenly fire. When the small figure of the boy got too close, he turned and calmly walked away toward the old forest and moors. Wojtek lost all trace of his imagination, and fascinated by the possession of the most beautiful animal he had ever seen, he followed the rapidly receding horse. A storm had settled over the village, seeping into the minds of the inhabitants like water into the lungs of a drowning man. Panic gripped every adult heart. Raindrops pounded on the roof in a mournful march, and trees slammed against windows, begging for entry. An ominous wind, gathering strength, toyed with the small houses. The end of the world merged with its beginning in an unparalleled dance of lights and powerful explosions in the dark, mournful sky. The claws of evil tightened, strangling the terrified inhabitants. The blackness was different than usual, and the air smelled of green leaves and dew.

***

Wojtek ran after the horse as fast as he could, surprised because it seemed the object of his dreams, the white beauty, was playing with him and deliberately avoiding being caught. They ran through a dense, old forest and found themselves in a large clearing. The rain had subsided, meaning the beast burning in the sky was directly above them. Lightning illuminated the earth with a crimson hue, and thunder like a bear's roar crashed against the sprawling, rotten trees. Suddenly, the horse stopped at the end of the clearing, its gaze fixed on Wojtek, expressionless. The boy, satisfied that this time he would succeed, began running with his last remaining strength toward the clearly visible white dot. When he reached the middle of the clearing, his heart was gripped by such terrifying fear that it seemed to radiate an external energy. Wojtek's legs began to sink into the ground…

***

At the height of the furious storm, fear gripped the hearts of all parents. It wasn't fear for their homes or themselves. Once a year, at moments like these, every adult resident remembered the promise made by the demons of this forest. This history stretches back two hundred years, when greed, desecration, stupidity, and disrespect for the ancient forest awakened the demons of the swamps and trees within. Since then, the demons have tested one child each year, capturing them in their claws. Helpless parents, under threat of complete annihilation, were forbidden to leave the village or speak of them to their children. During storms like this, every tearful mother recalled the cursed words... "In every greatest May storm, you will lock your children in separate chambers, and you yourselves will suffer and await the end, and when the fire in the sky dies down, then, upon entering, you will be able to see which child was condemned for your sin... And so, for three hundred years, you will suffer until all your sins are redeemed..." Since then, from generation to generation, fathers and mothers have passed on to their adult children this terrible story weighing on the hearts of the inhabitants of the cursed village.

***

Wojtek's thoughts shattered into tiny pieces. This swamp, a rotten, disgusting, and dark swamp. The arms of night were pushing him beneath the surfaces of the rotten water. All around, small human skulls could be seen, grinning in lifeless smiles. Wojtek beat the water with his hands with the last of his strength, and the more he moved, the more the black liquid drew him into its cold kingdom of the abyss. Strong thunder muffled the boy's screams. The water was already up to his thin neck when the boy noticed something as terrifying as death itself. The beautiful, strong white animal didn't take its eyes off him, and when their eyes met, the horse stamped its feet and suddenly began to laugh. And the sound was a terrible, human voice, bordering on madness and vengeance. It terrified everything, dead and living. Its eyes expressed joy and a sense of duty fulfilled. Terrified to the marrow, Wojtek sank, regretting leaving his warm room. After a moment, the white horse vanished in the mist, leaving only the faint, ghostly echo of a madman.

***

The storm subsided, and life returned to normal. The world in the light of the morning sun seemed so beautiful, so peaceful, and only the fear of opening the children's bedrooms disturbed the peace of this place. Only fear remained, then perhaps tears, or perhaps a sense of relief and peace...but only for a while....

The end.