The Folveshch

7. The Folveshch

"What in God's name is wrong with you!?" I thundered, my nose a mere inch from his. I shoved him up against the burning woodstove and the pungent stench of his urine hit my nostrils.

He'd never seen me livid before. In fact, he'd never seen me be anything but a cheap imitation of my father, but I didn't care. I couldn't keep my feelings inside after he'd eaten a part of my father's friend. How would Papa have dealt with him? To Hell with that! It wasn't Papa's problem – it was mine.

"You're so sick, Aleksy. What went through your damn head?!"

"I-I ..."

"On second thoughts, spare me the devil." I took a deep breath to temper the growing tightness in my chest. "You've brought shame to me and my family. Utter disgrace... And now the Yakunins want you locked away like the disgusting little creature you are!"

"P-please ... no. I didn't mean him any harm."

"And why shouldn't you be? Huh? Our village has suffered enough heartbreak, and then you –" I swallowed hard. I couldn't bring myself to say the words. "Why did you do it Aleksy? Why did you have to go and make everything worse?"

Aleksy's knees buckled and he slumped to the floor, sitting on his heels with his face in his hands. He mumbled something I didn't catch and I tore his hands away.

"What did you say?"

He sniffed. "I said I had to."

I gripped his wrists a little too tightly. "You say you had to mutilate Iakov? Just like you had to mutilate your father?"

"Da."

"Why?"

"For the Folveshch."

"Bullshit!"

"No ..."

"You were eating them, not this Folveshch! Is that what you did to your father's eyes? Were you going to cut out and eat his tongue too? And Iakov? Was that next?"

"I said I had to –"

I dropped his wrists as quickly as if they'd turned to slime. "You enjoy doing this, don't you? I've heard about freaks like you, Aleksy. You ... You're a cannibal."

I swung around, unable to look at his sickly face, letting the word hang heavy in the air between us. It sounded that much worse out loud. Cannibal. A sinner. A deviation. A stain against my family name; perhaps even Renkassk as a whole.

I combed my fingers through my hair and let my eyelids flutter closed for a moment. I prayed for him then, for some light to help him through this dark path, and I prayed for myself, for the strength not to be frightened of him.

"I'm not a cannibal," he hissed behind me. I pivoted as he shot to his feet; his misty blue eyes pierced me.

"What do you –"

"Shut up and listen for once, Stefan. Have you ever seen the Folveshch?"

"No." I folded my arms across my chest. "And nor have you. It's just something the old folk made up a generation ago. Haven't you worked that out yet? They crafted Strangers' Pass so we could travel to school in daylight hours, and the Folveshch was no more than an old scare tactic to keep us on the path. Things like that don't exist in the real world, Aleksy."

"Is that what you believe? Because that's what your papa told you to?"

I thought of Aleksy's dead father, the contorted corpse that stood up and reached out for me as I shuffled through those drawings. Things like that don't exist, Stefan; practice what you preach. "I've no reason to believe otherwise."

"Then you're lucky," Aleksy spat, "because the Folveshch thrives on your fear of it. Papa and I first saw it eight years ago and one day I'll be in those pews at the kabina just like the rest of them. When I become a man my life will be over. Do you think I want to end up the same as the others? The reason –" he heaved a defeated sigh "– the reason I took Iakov's eyes was to stop the Folveshch claiming me, at least for a while. Iakov told me to have them if it helped me survive the hunt for another year. He said I'd been good to him."

I roared. "You're not making any sense!"

"The Folveshch calls my name every waking hour, Stefan! It never stops! Never! Why do you think I'm always around you? I feel safe with you!"

"It isn't real! Why are you so obsessed?"

"Because I'm next!" He beat his fist to his chest. "I swear it's the truth. It's been waiting for me since I was nine years old, when I found it in the forest, and not long after that Papa stopped speaking. Please believe me, Stefan. There hasn't been a single winter since that it's not haunted me."

I turned my back on him again, feeling frustrated and muddled. There was a time and place for tales of the Folveshch, and following Iakov's mutilation was not one of them. I asked myself again: What would Papa have done? He'd put aside his fears and think of our people, without forgetting Aleksy was still, grudgingly, one of us. In Papa's stead I had no choice but to deal with him the same way. I couldn't have Aleksy executed for the crime of growing up disturbed, which was no fault of his own, but nor could he ever be at liberty in Renkassk again.

It left me with one option and I hated myself for even thinking it.

I had to erase him from the community. It was for our own good.