Дмитрий Мансуров - Invasion

“There’s someone outside!” she said worriedly. “He’s looking in the window!”

Yaroslav’s eyebrows shot to the sky when he imagined the size of this peeping Tom. His first thought was that a big-eyed owl had looked into the window, but the peasants must have seen owls before, right? Could Alena have confused the silhouette of a man with the shadow of a tree? No, there were no trees nearby. Or did some of the jokers decide to stand on each other’s shoulders?

Curious peasants? But what’s so interesting about a dark room? He was puzzled.

Babak frowned. The good-natured expression on his face faded away, replaced by the expression of a predator who’s preparing for an attack. He was always ready for trouble.

“Did you take a good look?” he asked. Alena nodded.

“He… he… he had strange eyes. They were glowing in the dark, and they were so terribly angry!”

“Probably he got hit in the face,” Babak suggested. “So he had huge black eyes as a result.”

Yaroslav shivered. The number of evil spirits grew rapidly as he got farther away from the capital. Among the educated and progressive residents of the capital, ghosts were non-existent. They were too scared they’d get kidnapped, dissected, and studied for the benefit of science. But the rural places… they were home to all evil. And if the real and legendary Baba Yaga lived here somewhere, then there had to be even more nightmarish creatures around here.

“This is something new,” Yaroslav muttered. “What a strange place. Evil forces are all around us! And in the palace, no one had ever mentioned such horrors.”

Outside the window, a silhouette flashed quickly. Yaroslav blinked, but the flash was gone. Had he imagined it or was it an attempt to add horror to the story of the alleged witness?

“Just great,” Yaroslav said, taking the sword from the sheath. “I don’t understand the varieties of these evil forces here, or if this is Yaga or some goblin who’s suffering from insomnia. I have no idea who it could be. I don’t even know whether my sword will work against this creature if it attacks, but I’ll fight ‘til the end. Mine or his.”

Babak nodded, and Alena asked,

“Are all princes so… verbose?”

“We talk more simply,” Babak said, glancing at the girl in surprise. “The enemy will die from his own weapon! Help me move the table to the wall. When they break in, we should have plenty of room for maneuvering.”

“They?” the Prince clarified. Babak nodded again.

“Here it is again!” Alena pointed at the window. The creature must have realized that it was useless to hide and make others panic, so it stopped and stared at them. Long fangs peeked out from the open mouth and flashed in the light of a dozen of candles.

“Does he polish them or something?” Babak wondered.

In the eyes of the monster, there was a seething, unquenchable rage.

“What a face you’ve got there, mate! I haven’t seen such before,” Babak said calmly, taking up his club. “We should fix it a little.”

The vampire blinked in surprise. Someone banged on the door.

“Hide upstairs!” Babak ordered Alena. “Close the door and let no one in. Shut the window and the shutters! Light the oil lamp. There are three on the shelf unless they were thrown to the floor. If anyone breaks in, throw something at them, and do it as strongly as you can!”

The vampire repeated his futile attempts to scare people, growing more and more confused, and the door and the walls continued to shake under the force of blows. The air was filled with cutting, creaking, and howling sounds specifically to achieve the same psychological effect.

“Well, come in, uninvited guests!” Babak offered, holding his club.

The knocking suddenly stopped. Yaroslav looked out the window incredulously. The monster had disappeared.

“Have you noticed that the frame flared with blue light?” Yaroslav turned to Babak in astonishment. “Or am I imagining things?”

“I have,” Babak said. “I can assure you that I have never seen anything like this outside my windows before… Have our uninvited guests grown exhausted?”

“They want us to open the door ourselves and check the street,” Yaroslav suggested. “Expect us to buy the calm before the storm?”

“Many would have bought even the idiotic ‘Give me some water!’ said by the man who has just tried to break into the house and kill the tenants.”

A battering ram made with improvised means crashed into the door.

“Ah, so you went to retrieve a battering ram? Why make everything so complicated?” Babak asked curiously and unlocked the deadbolt. Six running monsters crashed into the house with a thick log in their outstretched hands. With shouts of intimidation, the vampires galloped around the room excitedly, hit the table away, then rammed into the wall with the window and pushed it outside for some reason. Only then did they realize that something went wrong.

The flame of the candle flickered but didn’t go out.

“Fangy ones, where are you from?” Yaroslav asked. Not saying a word, the vampires turned and rushed to attack them, but they slowed down halfway to throw away the useless ram.

“Very funny,” Babak uttered grimly. He twisted the club, and before the first vampire could approach properly, he got hit on his forehead and collapsed lifelessly on the floor. Yaroslav raised his sword. The vampires bounced off, and the slowest of them clutched at his dissected chest, hissing angrily.

“Oh, at such pace, we’ll have them down in a minute!” Yaroslav exclaimed happily, but the smile slipped off his face when he saw how a wound that would be deadly for an ordinary person tightened and closed on the vampire’s body, leaving no traces. “Got another club?”

“No.”

The vampires were getting ready to attack again but something flared dazzlingly behind the prince’s back, so they jumped and covered their eyes. The prince broke the main commandment of the warrior that stated, ‘Never lose sight of the enemy.’ He turned his head to see what was crackling and burning behind him. Why was there no smoke?

The monster crushed by the club was burning. Judging by the faces of other vampires, they didn’t expect such a thing from someone of their own kind.

“The wood!” Babak realized quickly. “Only wood can kill them!”

Yaroslav jumped to the table in one single motion, swung his sword and cut off the wooden leg. The vampires rushed after him. Babak’s club whistled through the air, and the second vampire, who was already badly deformed, found his eternal peace. Babak hit the vampires several times while the Prince stabbed the nearest with a side of the severed table leg, punching another one in the jaw. The vampire replied with his fists, so Yaroslav was thrown back. The dead vampires were engulfed by the blue flames. The attacker jumped on the prince and grabbed him by the throat, but Yaroslav managed to put the tip of the wooden leg in front of him. The vampire was pierced by it and right away, he flared with bright flame. Yaroslav pushed the leg again. The vampire fell to the floor and quickly burned to a crisp.

The survivors retreated, their faces clearly reflecting their bewilderment at what was happening. Yaroslav shook his head and got to his feet. Everything was swimming and he was seeing double from the vampire’s powerful strike, but nothing was broken.

“You ok there?” Babak asked, not taking his eyes off the vampires. “Well, which of you is brave?”

“Not the dead one for sure!” Yaroslav said. “Though he was strong like a bear.”

“I’m used to fighting bears!” Babak whirled his club, and the vampires backed away. “Ha, look at that. They’re scared!”