The report from a village named Kisilova
he vampire Petar Blagojevich was pierced with a wooden stake and then burnt in 1725 in the village of Kisilova. This village is now known as Kisiljevo near the town of Požarevac (whereas the vampire has mentioned in Austrian records as Peter Plogojowitz).
Until recently, this case was known only through some accounts written by an Austrian service book, cesarean commander Frombald, published in the Viennese journal Wienerisches Diarium, as well as in some German papers, later on, that same year. The legends of my people have often founded on such creepy examples, so I didn’t let superstition guides myself. I am proud of the fact that reason and logic have always led me. Because of that trait of mine, which can be confirmed by my closest friends and relatives (people who know me personally), this case seriously undermined the foundations of my beliefs and threatened to affect my health. Dear reader, keep in mind that my logic and common sense fought to deny all the oddities that are described here, in the light of new evidence although I’d rather they had never appeared.
I wasn’t familiar with the case of Petar Blagojevich until one month ago when a senior man contacted me through the Internet. I will not reveal his identity since I was kindly asked not to; I will only say he lives in Požarevac. That man categorically claimed that he possessed the whole description of the events, narrated by Petar Blagojević’s wife, written in a notebook stored for years in their family. He remarked that except for the three missing pages that his mother used as kindling (to start a fire) during The Second World War, the rest of the notebook had been remarkably well preserved. Since I was very skeptical when it comes to supernatural phenomena, especially vampirism, I unkindly wanted to be provided with some solid proof so that it would deserve my attention. On my request, she sent a picture in which she was carrying the notebook in her hands. The coat of arms of Austria-Hungary Empire stamped into its linen covers, ochre and ragged by being so old. That was the kind of proof that the document was from that time. The man from Požarevac had also claimed that he was the successor and new owner of that notebook and he only wanted me to read it and convey its contents to the world under my conscience and my ethical sense. The credits this notebook might get should go to him – since he is its owner – and it could be sold on the same international auction when this case stirs publicity once again as it had already happened in Vienna in 1725. The content of the notebook is, I quote: „the reward, my boy, for your effort, you are our guy and very young, I think both of us will benefit from your authority.“
I must admit those flattering words were pleasant to my ears but did not influence my decision. I made my decision, like all other "men of letters before me, to preserve my people’s treasure and save it from oblivion. The fact that it has already survived couple centuries was enough to catch my attention. With uneasiness in my soul, with fluttering in my stomach, the feeling similar to that when you’re getting ready for a long journey, I kindly replied that I agreed to his suggestion and that I looked forward to this opportunity he was offering to me, although he didn’t know me. I asked him to take photographs of all pages of the notebook in good resolution and to send them to me so that I could read the pages. To my great surprise, he rejected my suggestion, with the excuse that the internet wasn’t stable. Instead, he suggested that he send me the photographs hidden in a folded piece of paper, in an envelope of a registered letter. Crestfallen because of the waiting which was inevitable since there was no other option, I agreed. After ten days of terrible waiting, an envelope from Serbia finally reached my Greek address. I opened it with the excitement of a child opening candy. I realized right away that the pictures were in very high resolution and of great quality, but the text was in Old Serbian which I couldn’t understand. Besides, the handwriting was illegible, so I called the man from Požaravac as soon as possible. I told him that I received the letter and that I needed some help from a Serbian linguist so that I could understand everything that was written in the notebook and then transpose those writings preserving their authenticity. After a small pause, the man agreed, provided that this third party is confidential since nobody else was supposed to know about these things. I was immensely happy and swore everything would be the way he demanded. After our conversation, I looked at the photographs again, and with a big smile on my face, I made a phone call to Veselin Vračar. He was a well-known linguist, a historian and a great expert in demonology but at the same time, he was my relative and a confidential man. When I told him about this challenge, he was delighted and said he would pack his suitcase and set on the first plane from Montenegro to Athens, so that we could work together on this case. Tomorrow morning, my beloved relative knocked on my door. He was excited. After saying hello, he wanted to see the photographs. I laughed heartily at his impatience – it was clear that we were somehow connected, and I promised him that we would withdraw after dinner to the salon to dedicate ourselves to the task, in peace. Knowing his adventurous spirit, I added it would be best that we only do the job at night and sleep from dawn till noon. In the afternoon, I wanted to show him around the city, as well as customs and some artifacts at some of Athens’ museums which would certainly be interesting for him as a historian. Due to our task's nature and my suggestion to do the work at night, my relative was delighted and called that "perfectum cogitatum" or the perfect plan.
After some exhausting nights when the both of us were disturbed by unusual and inexplicable events in the house, which went beyond logic and common sense, for the first time after two hundred and eighty-nine years, I exposed the notebook contents translated.
The First Night
An inexplicable event:
We entered the salon at 22.00. We lit some cigarillos near the fireplace, and then, to calm my relative’s impatience, without hesitation I grabbed the envelope with the photographs from the shelf. When I handed it out to him, the fire in the fireplace flared up so suddenly that we looked at each other in surprise. Since the flame got normal again, we continued our task.
We entered the salon at 22.00. We lit some cigarillos near the fireplace, and then, to calm my relative’s impatience, without hesitation I grabbed the envelope with the photographs from the shelf. When I handed it out to him, the fire in the fireplace flared up so suddenly that we looked at each other in surprise. Since the flame got normal again, we continued our task.
The notebook:
God bless you an’ poo’ me. If you still want to write this down, after everything I told you, I will {three illegible words } ... tell you everything in pen, my son.
We buried the unfortunate Peter, peace be with his soul, following the rules and customs, as God and emperor say. He was a sturdy man. {One illegible word} know best what suffering I saw of him. He was so heavy even when they lifted the coffin to carry it for the burial. He, my son, had never been fat, but it took six people to carry on the coffin, and God bless them all, they all died last Sunday. And three more people as well, God bless them, but I will go one by one.
An inexplicable event:
When we managed to clear out the text clear up to this point, suddenly, the old pendulum clock on the wall, which had been working correctly for years, stopped working. The hands of the clock were correctly put together at twelve o’clock.
The notebook:
I forgot to say, my son, my brain still serves me, that Milevica, while Petar was still being’served, had seen that some puppy jumped on Petar’s chest and then jumped over him. When they looked for the puppy, they couldn’t find it in the whole room. I hadn’t seen them, God bless me, but I believe they had {two illegible words } everything that had happened {one illegible word} she had been right.
The priest Radovan came, they said he dropped by to Marko Mojinic’s house, but he would arrive at the graveyard. Had we known that we would have to wait with a dead man until noon, we would’ve never left our house. The whole village of Kisileva went to lunch in turns. Nobody could come to our house for lunch. "It’s no good," they say until the deceased person has adequately buried. I didn’t move far from the coffin, neither did my sister Simana. At some point, we saw Radovan, the priest on the road. He was very drunk. Everybody was pleased to see him at last. But as he approached the graveyard, the lid of the coffin cracked, and there was a crack in the wood as thick as a finger. {couple illegible word} and many people are witnesses. Since raw beech wood made the coffin and it was exposed to the sun all day long beside the bier, deceased Todor, God bless his soul, said it was because of the sun and it was only reasonable to happen to raw wood {three illegible words }. Since there was no stench comin’ out of the coffin, nobody cared about the crack.
An inexplicable event:
The book “De Rerum Natura” by Lucretius Tutus placed on the shelf right above Veselin’s head moved from its place as somebody had just pulled it strongly. It fell on the floor missing my relative’s head for several inches. This event struck both of us, and we decided to continue the next evening. Since it was almost dawn, we went to sleep.
Appendix:
We got up refreshed, and my relative was delighted by the breakfast prepared by Mrs. Papadopoulos, my housemaid. We decided to visit the Parthenon first.
God bless you an’ poo’ me. If you still want to write this down, after everything I told you, I will {three illegible words } ... tell you everything in pen, my son.
We buried the unfortunate Peter, peace be with his soul, following the rules and customs, as God and emperor say. He was a sturdy man. {One illegible word} know best what suffering I saw of him. He was so heavy even when they lifted the coffin to carry it for the burial. He, my son, had never been fat, but it took six people to carry on the coffin, and God bless them all, they all died last Sunday. And three more people as well, God bless them, but I will go one by one.
An inexplicable event:
When we managed to clear out the text clear up to this point, suddenly, the old pendulum clock on the wall, which had been working correctly for years, stopped working. The hands of the clock were correctly put together at twelve o’clock.
The notebook:
I forgot to say, my son, my brain still serves me, that Milevica, while Petar was still being’served, had seen that some puppy jumped on Petar’s chest and then jumped over him. When they looked for the puppy, they couldn’t find it in the whole room. I hadn’t seen them, God bless me, but I believe they had {two illegible words } everything that had happened {one illegible word} she had been right.
The priest Radovan came, they said he dropped by to Marko Mojinic’s house, but he would arrive at the graveyard. Had we known that we would have to wait with a dead man until noon, we would’ve never left our house. The whole village of Kisileva went to lunch in turns. Nobody could come to our house for lunch. "It’s no good," they say until the deceased person has adequately buried. I didn’t move far from the coffin, neither did my sister Simana. At some point, we saw Radovan, the priest on the road. He was very drunk. Everybody was pleased to see him at last. But as he approached the graveyard, the lid of the coffin cracked, and there was a crack in the wood as thick as a finger. {couple illegible word} and many people are witnesses. Since raw beech wood made the coffin and it was exposed to the sun all day long beside the bier, deceased Todor, God bless his soul, said it was because of the sun and it was only reasonable to happen to raw wood {three illegible words }. Since there was no stench comin’ out of the coffin, nobody cared about the crack.
An inexplicable event:
The book “De Rerum Natura” by Lucretius Tutus placed on the shelf right above Veselin’s head moved from its place as somebody had just pulled it strongly. It fell on the floor missing my relative’s head for several inches. This event struck both of us, and we decided to continue the next evening. Since it was almost dawn, we went to sleep.
Appendix:
We got up refreshed, and my relative was delighted by the breakfast prepared by Mrs. Papadopoulos, my housemaid. We decided to visit the Parthenon first.
The Second Night
The notebook:
The priest Radovan performed a requiem, and then Petar’s coffin has been placed into the grave. God bless me, my son, something went wrong. {half line illegible words} I tossed a fistful of soil onto the coffin. When the loam fell on the coffin, I could see Petar through the crack on the lid squinting and rolling his eyes. I should’ve said that. God is the witness that I wanted to say that. I confided to Simana, and she was almost mad at me and whispered to me not to act foolishly. She convinced me that I only imagined things, so {an illegible word} I didn’t say a thing but rushed home to get everything ready for the dinner before they come back from the cemetery. The neighbors came and went home around eight o’clock. But, I felt some uneasiness, my son. Wherever I looked, I could see some shadow in the corner of my eye. I locked the house as dusk fell and went to bed. I rolled ‘round on my straw mattress as if I were lying on rocks. I couldn’t find the right position. Oh, and then, my Lord and all saints, somewhere at the witchin’ hour, I could hear dogs howlin’. All dogs in Kisileva were howlin’ as one. I crossed myself and turned on my back. They were howlin’ and growlin’, and it wasn’t long before they just went silent at the same time. Then someone knocked on the door {a line of illegible words} I jumped out of bed. I approached the door and listened carefully {an illegible word} and then hit again more loudly. I thought it was some distant relative coming late for the funeral, but who was it? I know that everyone who was supposed to be there was already there. I asked: Who is it? But nobody replied. Oh, how silly I was, my son, I lit a wax candle at the hearth, opened the door and protruded it out to light something. Outside was a bright moonlight shining more bright than one hundred, and I could see there was nobody in front of the house.
An inexplicable event:
Something hit against the window of the salon so hard that it moved off its frame. We got up to check what it was. My relative thought it was a palm branch in the yard, there was the wind coming from the sea.
(Veselin doesn’t agree this was an inexplicable event. I still decided to write it down since I know it had never happened before, even under the worst weather conditions).
The notebook:
I slammed the door and went back into the room. When I entered, I could see the closet door left open. I closed it and lied on the straw mattress. I almost sank into dreamin’, and in my dream, I saw Petar sittin’ inside the closet. He frowned at me gnashing his teeth. He asked me angrily: “why did you bury me without my galoshes?” I jumped out of my dream, my son, and God bless me, it was already dawn. I looked at the closet door, it was open, and I could remember that I had closed it. There was some small bolt that Petar had made. I remember I had bolted the door {two illegible words} … I say to myself, {an illegible word} … maybe I hadn’t.
An inexplicable event:
Mrs. Papadopoulos ran into the salon; this poor wife had been so scared that she wasn’t even dressed up; she came in her nightgown. She held one hand on her chest and crossed herself with her other all the time. Than sat near the two of us at the table and told us that the crucifixion which hangs above the bed in her room suddenly just moved and woke her up. And then when she turned the lights on, she saw it hanging upside down. My relative, though he didn’t understand a word of Greek, was driven by his sharp clairvoyance. He first got up from the table and decided we should check what had upset this poor lady so much. All three of us went to her room, but when we got in, the crucifixion was in the right position. The lady started crying, and she swore that cross was upside down. We calmed her right away and then we all went back to sleep.
The priest Radovan performed a requiem, and then Petar’s coffin has been placed into the grave. God bless me, my son, something went wrong. {half line illegible words} I tossed a fistful of soil onto the coffin. When the loam fell on the coffin, I could see Petar through the crack on the lid squinting and rolling his eyes. I should’ve said that. God is the witness that I wanted to say that. I confided to Simana, and she was almost mad at me and whispered to me not to act foolishly. She convinced me that I only imagined things, so {an illegible word} I didn’t say a thing but rushed home to get everything ready for the dinner before they come back from the cemetery. The neighbors came and went home around eight o’clock. But, I felt some uneasiness, my son. Wherever I looked, I could see some shadow in the corner of my eye. I locked the house as dusk fell and went to bed. I rolled ‘round on my straw mattress as if I were lying on rocks. I couldn’t find the right position. Oh, and then, my Lord and all saints, somewhere at the witchin’ hour, I could hear dogs howlin’. All dogs in Kisileva were howlin’ as one. I crossed myself and turned on my back. They were howlin’ and growlin’, and it wasn’t long before they just went silent at the same time. Then someone knocked on the door {a line of illegible words} I jumped out of bed. I approached the door and listened carefully {an illegible word} and then hit again more loudly. I thought it was some distant relative coming late for the funeral, but who was it? I know that everyone who was supposed to be there was already there. I asked: Who is it? But nobody replied. Oh, how silly I was, my son, I lit a wax candle at the hearth, opened the door and protruded it out to light something. Outside was a bright moonlight shining more bright than one hundred, and I could see there was nobody in front of the house.
An inexplicable event:
Something hit against the window of the salon so hard that it moved off its frame. We got up to check what it was. My relative thought it was a palm branch in the yard, there was the wind coming from the sea.
(Veselin doesn’t agree this was an inexplicable event. I still decided to write it down since I know it had never happened before, even under the worst weather conditions).
The notebook:
I slammed the door and went back into the room. When I entered, I could see the closet door left open. I closed it and lied on the straw mattress. I almost sank into dreamin’, and in my dream, I saw Petar sittin’ inside the closet. He frowned at me gnashing his teeth. He asked me angrily: “why did you bury me without my galoshes?” I jumped out of my dream, my son, and God bless me, it was already dawn. I looked at the closet door, it was open, and I could remember that I had closed it. There was some small bolt that Petar had made. I remember I had bolted the door {two illegible words} … I say to myself, {an illegible word} … maybe I hadn’t.
An inexplicable event:
Mrs. Papadopoulos ran into the salon; this poor wife had been so scared that she wasn’t even dressed up; she came in her nightgown. She held one hand on her chest and crossed herself with her other all the time. Than sat near the two of us at the table and told us that the crucifixion which hangs above the bed in her room suddenly just moved and woke her up. And then when she turned the lights on, she saw it hanging upside down. My relative, though he didn’t understand a word of Greek, was driven by his sharp clairvoyance. He first got up from the table and decided we should check what had upset this poor lady so much. All three of us went to her room, but when we got in, the crucifixion was in the right position. The lady started crying, and she swore that cross was upside down. We calmed her right away and then we all went back to sleep.
The Third Night
The Notebook:
Simana got up before me, and she told me she was ready to go home. I saw, my son, that somethin’ was wrong, but she didn’t want to say that {illegible words}
I went to the stable to milk the cow; I’d rather lose my hand than to see her lying dead. Her throat was slit, my son as if slaughtered and chewed by some animal, but there was no sign of blood. “What will I do without a cow?”, I thought. Afternoon, Bojan Stupar’s wife came in front of my yard and started crying. I went out to call her inside, but she didn’t want that, no chances. I fastened my scarf under my chin and went to the fence to ask her why she was moaning.
An inexplicable event:
I was hungry, so I suggested we take a small break. My relative very concentrated into his work, wanted to make the hardly visible word clear, so I left him alone in the salon whereas I went to have a sandwich with salmon which Mrs. Papadopoulos had made me before she went to sleep. Entering the kitchen, I was shocked to see a big black Doberman sitting in front of the fridge. It looked at me calmly for a few moments, and while I was planning to go away instantly and close the door, the animal just stood up and went out through the balcony doors that were open.
Appendix:
Mrs. Papadopoulos denied that she had left the door open the next morning. My relative couldn’t have done this since the two of us were together all the time. I thought that this kind lady still missed that, but I didn’t want to insist since I saw she had not been feeling perfect for the last two days.
Veselin and I are going to visit an archeological site today, the ancient Athenian Agora, the market and the center where all crucial events in ancient Athens took place.
The notebook:
She is crying herself out, my son, it’s unbearable to listen. Simana brought some Sugarcubes and some water to make her feel better. When she got better, she told us she had dreamt Petar; he came to her room, just stood there staring at her for some time and then he was gone. I crossed myself and told her it was just a dream and not real; what else could I say to her? And I knew it all well, Petar told me when we got married that he had once made eyes at her. I had never before mentioned that anywhere, God bless me, but I said it to your pen today, and I don’t feel sorry because of that. I walked her down the road and then came back. Since then until ten days ago, every day one animal died in the village. Each of them had its throat cut. Some misfortune hit the Kiselevo, my son. But, ten days ago, people started dying, one by one {illegible word} the first was poor Todor. That night, Petar came again to visit me. The knocking on my door woke me up in the middle of the night. I pretended not to hear it, but my heart wanted to jump out of my chest. The door creaked, and Peter’s hand opened it. The moon just lit through the window so that it got very bright in the room. He approached my bed and opened his mouth. His teeth resembled those of an animal; God bless us all. He was black around the eyes, and his fingernails were sharp as a needle. He opened his mouth and stood there, looking me straight in the eyes. There was some blood in the corner of his mouth, drippin’ down his chin. I was paralyzed with fear, covered my eyes with the quilt and called for God to take my soul or save me. I knew it wasn’t a dream, because I didn’t fall asleep until it was morning. When I heard the rooster in the morning, I looked underneath the quilt, but can't see Petar; in the place where he stood, I saw only a few drops of blood. I jumped out of bed and wiped the blood with a rag. To whom should I complain and what should I say {illegible words}
An inexplicable event:
While the two of us were getting ready to sleep, one shadow in front of our eyes, cast by the fruit bowl from the table elongated on the wall, swayed and then slowly went back to normal. The dish was affected by some force and moved to the edge of the table. Tomorrow we’ll check whether the table is entirely horizontal, I’m afraid it is.
Appendix:
We checked the table is indeed wholly horizontal. Now it’s evident that there’s some force in the house trying to distract us from our task. We make fun of it, but we can’t trick each other. I suspect that my relative can see in my eyes what I see in his – fear. Still, since today is a very bright day, our mood is right, we will visit a museum downtown. Mrs. Papadopoulos woke up very pale today. I gave her some days off and suggested her to see the doctor.
Simana got up before me, and she told me she was ready to go home. I saw, my son, that somethin’ was wrong, but she didn’t want to say that {illegible words}
I went to the stable to milk the cow; I’d rather lose my hand than to see her lying dead. Her throat was slit, my son as if slaughtered and chewed by some animal, but there was no sign of blood. “What will I do without a cow?”, I thought. Afternoon, Bojan Stupar’s wife came in front of my yard and started crying. I went out to call her inside, but she didn’t want that, no chances. I fastened my scarf under my chin and went to the fence to ask her why she was moaning.
An inexplicable event:
I was hungry, so I suggested we take a small break. My relative very concentrated into his work, wanted to make the hardly visible word clear, so I left him alone in the salon whereas I went to have a sandwich with salmon which Mrs. Papadopoulos had made me before she went to sleep. Entering the kitchen, I was shocked to see a big black Doberman sitting in front of the fridge. It looked at me calmly for a few moments, and while I was planning to go away instantly and close the door, the animal just stood up and went out through the balcony doors that were open.
Appendix:
Mrs. Papadopoulos denied that she had left the door open the next morning. My relative couldn’t have done this since the two of us were together all the time. I thought that this kind lady still missed that, but I didn’t want to insist since I saw she had not been feeling perfect for the last two days.
Veselin and I are going to visit an archeological site today, the ancient Athenian Agora, the market and the center where all crucial events in ancient Athens took place.
The notebook:
She is crying herself out, my son, it’s unbearable to listen. Simana brought some Sugarcubes and some water to make her feel better. When she got better, she told us she had dreamt Petar; he came to her room, just stood there staring at her for some time and then he was gone. I crossed myself and told her it was just a dream and not real; what else could I say to her? And I knew it all well, Petar told me when we got married that he had once made eyes at her. I had never before mentioned that anywhere, God bless me, but I said it to your pen today, and I don’t feel sorry because of that. I walked her down the road and then came back. Since then until ten days ago, every day one animal died in the village. Each of them had its throat cut. Some misfortune hit the Kiselevo, my son. But, ten days ago, people started dying, one by one {illegible word} the first was poor Todor. That night, Petar came again to visit me. The knocking on my door woke me up in the middle of the night. I pretended not to hear it, but my heart wanted to jump out of my chest. The door creaked, and Peter’s hand opened it. The moon just lit through the window so that it got very bright in the room. He approached my bed and opened his mouth. His teeth resembled those of an animal; God bless us all. He was black around the eyes, and his fingernails were sharp as a needle. He opened his mouth and stood there, looking me straight in the eyes. There was some blood in the corner of his mouth, drippin’ down his chin. I was paralyzed with fear, covered my eyes with the quilt and called for God to take my soul or save me. I knew it wasn’t a dream, because I didn’t fall asleep until it was morning. When I heard the rooster in the morning, I looked underneath the quilt, but can't see Petar; in the place where he stood, I saw only a few drops of blood. I jumped out of bed and wiped the blood with a rag. To whom should I complain and what should I say {illegible words}
An inexplicable event:
While the two of us were getting ready to sleep, one shadow in front of our eyes, cast by the fruit bowl from the table elongated on the wall, swayed and then slowly went back to normal. The dish was affected by some force and moved to the edge of the table. Tomorrow we’ll check whether the table is entirely horizontal, I’m afraid it is.
Appendix:
We checked the table is indeed wholly horizontal. Now it’s evident that there’s some force in the house trying to distract us from our task. We make fun of it, but we can’t trick each other. I suspect that my relative can see in my eyes what I see in his – fear. Still, since today is a very bright day, our mood is right, we will visit a museum downtown. Mrs. Papadopoulos woke up very pale today. I gave her some days off and suggested her to see the doctor.
The Fourth Night
The Notebook:
I suspected something would go wrong. Todor’s son dropped by and told me that Todor had died last night, so I should go with him and help them with the food preparations. And I went there, my son, God bless my soul, I entered their house, and Todor’s wife started crying as soon as she saw me: “your Petar took him away!” Their son immediately tried to intervene, I will not blame him, he took her into a room, and they stayed there for some time. What to do, I just approached the deceased; I couldn’t ask anybody why the healthy man died. Everyone turned their heads in another direction. I saw God bless his soul, two round wounds on Todor’s neck, red as if something had bitten him. I crossed myself and kissed him, and all the time I was thinking {three illegible words} … I cleaned this morning. I helped these women and went back at noon. I wanted to have some rest since I should serve the deceased. I went home when it was already dark. There was a bright moon in the sky. I went over the thrashing floor to find a shortcut to the house of recently deceased Todor when the big and black dog appeared suddenly in front of me – it was black as coal. {several illegible words} right towards me. I thought somebody from Todor’s house went to call for me, but when the apparition approached, I could recognize Petar. He was barefoot in ragged socks. He raised his hand, looked directly at me and pointed towards our house. The hair on my head stood on end, I crossed myself and tried to avoid him, but the dog howled, and Petar opened his mouth and showed his teeth, and I felt dark and not good. I woke up there, on the thrashing floor; it was pitch dark. I got up and went home, but I heard some hubbub in the village. I could hear some noise and cryin’ so I ran down the road. In front of Rados’ house, there were all the villagers of Kisileva. I approached the crowd, and someone shouted: “there she is” {several illegible words} your Peter, I saw him with my eyes. Alas, my people, help, Rados can’t stand up!” I went into his house, and I could see him on the bench; there was still blood on his neck. He rolled his eyes. “Who slaughtered you, Radoš, my brother?” I started crying, afraid that the answer could be bad for me. “Your Petar,” he replied, “because of that landmark in a cleared land.” How do you mean, Petar, my Rados? Didn’t we bury him together? You even carried his coffin, I shouted, and somebody added: Todor was also carryin’ his coffin, and he lies with the same wounds in his coffin.” I fell on my knees, next to Rados; it was dark before my eyes.
An inexplicable event:
Since I have some days off to Mrs. Papadopoulos, I expected she would not visit me for some time. She always used to be with her sister’s family when she had days off. But, our work has just been interrupted by Mrs. Papadopoulos, who, at two after midnight, suddenly rang at our door. The poor woman was so pale; I was wondering how she could stand on her feet. I helped her to the room and left her there. She repeated all the time that she could hear the leaves outside.
The Notebook:
At some point they called me; Rados died then. His wife started crying as well as his daughter, and somebody shouted that Petar’s grave opened. I rushed home because I couldn’t listen to that mournin’ anymore. At that time, it was already dawn. I cried all day long. Simana invited me to go with her, but I didn’t accept. I wish I had; at some time I went to the cemetery to see the grave. I wanted to make sure for myself whether Petar had gone out or if we were all mad. I entered the cemetery, and I could see a lot of people coming, the whole grass area around Peter’s grave look trampled. Somebody brought a St. George icon and put it on the grave.
{one page missing}
At night, Radovan the priest came at my door. He heard what the people were saying in Kisilevo, so he asked for Peter’s birth certificate from me; wanted to write down in books that his die, but I knew he only wanted to check whether is baptized. I gave the paper to him, he looked at it, but he said no word. I told him I had dreamt Petar; I didn’t dare tell him I saw him by my eyes, I was afraid they would think I was mad. He sensed the house and then said that people wanted the grave to be open, that he would inform the commander about everything and then he left. I stayed there, my son, sitting on a chair. It was night, and I didn’t move from it, my son, God blessed me when I wanted to go to sleep {several illegible words} at some point, someone knocked on the door. I instantly knew it was Peter. I didn’t move from my chair, and he somehow came to the hearth. He opened his bloody mouth standing there still, “who did you slaughter tonight, damned you,” I asked him, but my voice was feeble I could hardly speak. He was silent, his throat was wheezin’, he approached me and grabbed my throat so hard I thought he would strangle me, thank God this was when the rooster crowed at dawn and Petar turned around to leave; there was still some blood on the floor. I don’t know how he went out. I couldn’t move, I could hardly breathe. There was some noise and crying in the village. I knew somebody had hurt again.
An inexplicable event:
We finished the translation of the pages around three o’clock after midnight. My relative had a headache, so he went to his room. I stayed to finish this text. Tomorrow I will call the man from Požarevac to inform him that the job is almost finished.
Appendix:
There was a scream. I saw Veselin in the corner of the room, there was a broken chair leg in front of him, and poor Mrs. Papadopoulos was lying on the floor. Veselin claims she wanted to bite his neck. I drove her to the hospital. The doctors said she’d better stay and told me to inform her family about everything, which I did. Since I was her employer, I had no right to visit her. I came back; my relative wanted me to trust him. For the time being, until I hear her version of the story, I do not believe anything. Thank God Veselin didn’t hit her with a chair; he said he found her in that condition when he entered the room and that the lady had been crouching on the desk!
I suspected something would go wrong. Todor’s son dropped by and told me that Todor had died last night, so I should go with him and help them with the food preparations. And I went there, my son, God bless my soul, I entered their house, and Todor’s wife started crying as soon as she saw me: “your Petar took him away!” Their son immediately tried to intervene, I will not blame him, he took her into a room, and they stayed there for some time. What to do, I just approached the deceased; I couldn’t ask anybody why the healthy man died. Everyone turned their heads in another direction. I saw God bless his soul, two round wounds on Todor’s neck, red as if something had bitten him. I crossed myself and kissed him, and all the time I was thinking {three illegible words} … I cleaned this morning. I helped these women and went back at noon. I wanted to have some rest since I should serve the deceased. I went home when it was already dark. There was a bright moon in the sky. I went over the thrashing floor to find a shortcut to the house of recently deceased Todor when the big and black dog appeared suddenly in front of me – it was black as coal. {several illegible words} right towards me. I thought somebody from Todor’s house went to call for me, but when the apparition approached, I could recognize Petar. He was barefoot in ragged socks. He raised his hand, looked directly at me and pointed towards our house. The hair on my head stood on end, I crossed myself and tried to avoid him, but the dog howled, and Petar opened his mouth and showed his teeth, and I felt dark and not good. I woke up there, on the thrashing floor; it was pitch dark. I got up and went home, but I heard some hubbub in the village. I could hear some noise and cryin’ so I ran down the road. In front of Rados’ house, there were all the villagers of Kisileva. I approached the crowd, and someone shouted: “there she is” {several illegible words} your Peter, I saw him with my eyes. Alas, my people, help, Rados can’t stand up!” I went into his house, and I could see him on the bench; there was still blood on his neck. He rolled his eyes. “Who slaughtered you, Radoš, my brother?” I started crying, afraid that the answer could be bad for me. “Your Petar,” he replied, “because of that landmark in a cleared land.” How do you mean, Petar, my Rados? Didn’t we bury him together? You even carried his coffin, I shouted, and somebody added: Todor was also carryin’ his coffin, and he lies with the same wounds in his coffin.” I fell on my knees, next to Rados; it was dark before my eyes.
An inexplicable event:
Since I have some days off to Mrs. Papadopoulos, I expected she would not visit me for some time. She always used to be with her sister’s family when she had days off. But, our work has just been interrupted by Mrs. Papadopoulos, who, at two after midnight, suddenly rang at our door. The poor woman was so pale; I was wondering how she could stand on her feet. I helped her to the room and left her there. She repeated all the time that she could hear the leaves outside.
The Notebook:
At some point they called me; Rados died then. His wife started crying as well as his daughter, and somebody shouted that Petar’s grave opened. I rushed home because I couldn’t listen to that mournin’ anymore. At that time, it was already dawn. I cried all day long. Simana invited me to go with her, but I didn’t accept. I wish I had; at some time I went to the cemetery to see the grave. I wanted to make sure for myself whether Petar had gone out or if we were all mad. I entered the cemetery, and I could see a lot of people coming, the whole grass area around Peter’s grave look trampled. Somebody brought a St. George icon and put it on the grave.
{one page missing}
At night, Radovan the priest came at my door. He heard what the people were saying in Kisilevo, so he asked for Peter’s birth certificate from me; wanted to write down in books that his die, but I knew he only wanted to check whether is baptized. I gave the paper to him, he looked at it, but he said no word. I told him I had dreamt Petar; I didn’t dare tell him I saw him by my eyes, I was afraid they would think I was mad. He sensed the house and then said that people wanted the grave to be open, that he would inform the commander about everything and then he left. I stayed there, my son, sitting on a chair. It was night, and I didn’t move from it, my son, God blessed me when I wanted to go to sleep {several illegible words} at some point, someone knocked on the door. I instantly knew it was Peter. I didn’t move from my chair, and he somehow came to the hearth. He opened his bloody mouth standing there still, “who did you slaughter tonight, damned you,” I asked him, but my voice was feeble I could hardly speak. He was silent, his throat was wheezin’, he approached me and grabbed my throat so hard I thought he would strangle me, thank God this was when the rooster crowed at dawn and Petar turned around to leave; there was still some blood on the floor. I don’t know how he went out. I couldn’t move, I could hardly breathe. There was some noise and crying in the village. I knew somebody had hurt again.
An inexplicable event:
We finished the translation of the pages around three o’clock after midnight. My relative had a headache, so he went to his room. I stayed to finish this text. Tomorrow I will call the man from Požarevac to inform him that the job is almost finished.
Appendix:
There was a scream. I saw Veselin in the corner of the room, there was a broken chair leg in front of him, and poor Mrs. Papadopoulos was lying on the floor. Veselin claims she wanted to bite his neck. I drove her to the hospital. The doctors said she’d better stay and told me to inform her family about everything, which I did. Since I was her employer, I had no right to visit her. I came back; my relative wanted me to trust him. For the time being, until I hear her version of the story, I do not believe anything. Thank God Veselin didn’t hit her with a chair; he said he found her in that condition when he entered the room and that the lady had been crouching on the desk!
The Fifth Night
The notebook:
That night, Milorad Markovic died. He was the grandson of that Sima who, they say, came from Belgrade to live in Kisileva. He also had, they say, the same scars on his neck as Todor and Radoš. I didn’t {the rest of the page missing}
The whole village of Kisileva was upset. Some took their children to their family relatives. Many came to my door, asking me why my Petar wrapped them all in black. What could I tell them, my son? I said, everyone, Petar was dead. At noon there came priest Radovan again, and he told me they want to dig Petar out. I went with him to the cemetery. There were all the people of Kisileva; they tried to dig. Priest Radovan calms them down with gentle words saying that they couldn’t do it without the commander’s consent. He kindly asked them to wait for tomorrow, and he would see to it. People started to go away, but I knew they were right. The soil on the grave was dry and cracked. It looked barren. Radovan read the prayer; he sensed the grave, so we went home. I asked him to visit me, but he didn’t want to. I was thinking about where to spend the night; I didn’t want to go home. I decided to go to a hut and lay in the hay; I thought nobody could find me there. That is what I did, waiting for another morning in the name of our Lord. It was so hot under the hay, my son, that I couldn’t get any sleep. But at some point during the night, the dogs started howlin’, and I knew why. I could hear someone knockin’ on the door of the house. I peeped through the tiles and could see Petar looking back. He neither entered the house nor he moved from the doorstep. I was silent and motionless when he suddenly turned around and then looked in the direction of the hut where I was. I crawled under the hay as silently as I could, but I could hear the door creaking like someone wanted to open it. Something entered and pulled me from my legs. I kicked with my legs and hit him with force, but that didn’t help. He pulled me out of the hay and then looked at me; his mouth was wide open like he would devour me, blood all over him. I could hear crying outside, and then I saw a child, not more than ten years old. I crossed myself and ran to hold the child’s hand, and then we headed to the church.
{We concluded that at least two more pages were missing because, from the report of Austrian commander Frombals, can be seen that villagers reported nine dead people in seven days.}
{half the line missing}… Blagoje, Marko, Todor, Milivoje aged only 15, Ljutica and Rados’s wife died yesterday. Radovan, the priest, came again yesterday bringing Duško, another priest from the parish as well as the royal police constable. They went three times to the police constable, and then they managed to bring him along with them. I went to the graveyard and to see that they had dug out the grave and started opening Peter’s coffin. I moved closer and saw Petar – he looked the same as before was buried: blood coming from his mouth, black around the eyes and his skin looking much younger. They sharpened one wooden stake and stabbed it in his heart. Blood splashed from his mouth and ears. They put some branches on him and set the body on fire. They burned it until only ashes remained. Oh, God bless us, I thought everything was over. I went back home sad, but still happy because there was no evil man anymore. That night I could go to sleep in peace. I dreamt of him; he was standing young, laughing. I approached him. He had changed a little, looking like he did in the coffin. “I will follow you whatever you do.” I jumped out of the dream then and ran out of the house. I don’t know how I managed to walk for so long until I got here. I decided not to go back to Kisilevo, no matter what.
Appendix:
Mrs. Papadopoulos is in a psychiatry department. The doctor told me shes tied to her bed. He wanted to know more about her symptoms and some details about her illness while I was looking over his shoulder in yellow leaves scattered by the wind all over the hospital yard two floors below. I was listening that rustling sound clear like I was a leaf myself.
That night, Milorad Markovic died. He was the grandson of that Sima who, they say, came from Belgrade to live in Kisileva. He also had, they say, the same scars on his neck as Todor and Radoš. I didn’t {the rest of the page missing}
The whole village of Kisileva was upset. Some took their children to their family relatives. Many came to my door, asking me why my Petar wrapped them all in black. What could I tell them, my son? I said, everyone, Petar was dead. At noon there came priest Radovan again, and he told me they want to dig Petar out. I went with him to the cemetery. There were all the people of Kisileva; they tried to dig. Priest Radovan calms them down with gentle words saying that they couldn’t do it without the commander’s consent. He kindly asked them to wait for tomorrow, and he would see to it. People started to go away, but I knew they were right. The soil on the grave was dry and cracked. It looked barren. Radovan read the prayer; he sensed the grave, so we went home. I asked him to visit me, but he didn’t want to. I was thinking about where to spend the night; I didn’t want to go home. I decided to go to a hut and lay in the hay; I thought nobody could find me there. That is what I did, waiting for another morning in the name of our Lord. It was so hot under the hay, my son, that I couldn’t get any sleep. But at some point during the night, the dogs started howlin’, and I knew why. I could hear someone knockin’ on the door of the house. I peeped through the tiles and could see Petar looking back. He neither entered the house nor he moved from the doorstep. I was silent and motionless when he suddenly turned around and then looked in the direction of the hut where I was. I crawled under the hay as silently as I could, but I could hear the door creaking like someone wanted to open it. Something entered and pulled me from my legs. I kicked with my legs and hit him with force, but that didn’t help. He pulled me out of the hay and then looked at me; his mouth was wide open like he would devour me, blood all over him. I could hear crying outside, and then I saw a child, not more than ten years old. I crossed myself and ran to hold the child’s hand, and then we headed to the church.
{We concluded that at least two more pages were missing because, from the report of Austrian commander Frombals, can be seen that villagers reported nine dead people in seven days.}
{half the line missing}… Blagoje, Marko, Todor, Milivoje aged only 15, Ljutica and Rados’s wife died yesterday. Radovan, the priest, came again yesterday bringing Duško, another priest from the parish as well as the royal police constable. They went three times to the police constable, and then they managed to bring him along with them. I went to the graveyard and to see that they had dug out the grave and started opening Peter’s coffin. I moved closer and saw Petar – he looked the same as before was buried: blood coming from his mouth, black around the eyes and his skin looking much younger. They sharpened one wooden stake and stabbed it in his heart. Blood splashed from his mouth and ears. They put some branches on him and set the body on fire. They burned it until only ashes remained. Oh, God bless us, I thought everything was over. I went back home sad, but still happy because there was no evil man anymore. That night I could go to sleep in peace. I dreamt of him; he was standing young, laughing. I approached him. He had changed a little, looking like he did in the coffin. “I will follow you whatever you do.” I jumped out of the dream then and ran out of the house. I don’t know how I managed to walk for so long until I got here. I decided not to go back to Kisilevo, no matter what.
Appendix:
Mrs. Papadopoulos is in a psychiatry department. The doctor told me shes tied to her bed. He wanted to know more about her symptoms and some details about her illness while I was looking over his shoulder in yellow leaves scattered by the wind all over the hospital yard two floors below. I was listening that rustling sound clear like I was a leaf myself.
A short narrative The report from a village named Kisilova first time was published in the Collection of weird stories Anatomica de somniis, 2014.
