Tender Kiss of a Russian Werewolf

By Dragan Vujic

An American professor of folklore visits relatives in Russia. Initially, he comes to do research on aspects of Russian epics, which have been passed down orally and have literally survived on the lips of the peasants. However, the American soon abandons his primary purpose and decides to pursue loftier goals. He falls in love with a Russian lady. Their romance flourishes. Then, something unexpected occurs and the American discovers the true nature of his lover. Vasil Donskov experiences first hand the tender kiss of a Russian werewolf.

• Language: English
• Publisher: iUniverse
• Release date: Jun 10, 2002
• ISBN: 9781469767727

Dragan Vujic

Dragan Vujic is a writer and an avid outdoorsman. He resides in rural southern Ontario, Canada where he enjoys a quiet, serene lifestyle. Dragan may be contacted at: [e-mail] or [e-mail].

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All Rights Reserved © 2002 by Dragan Vujic

No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping, or by any information storage retrieval system, without the permission in writing from the publisher.

Writers Club Press an imprint of iUniverse

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Any resemblance to actual people and events is purely coincidental. This is a work of fiction.

ISBN: 0-595-23277-9

ISBN: 978-1-469-76772-7 (ebook)

Contents

Chapter 1: A FAR AWAY LAND

Chapter 2: THE AMERICAN NEPHEW

Chapter 3: ROAD WAR

Chapter 4: CHANCE ENCOUNTER

Chapter 5: LARISSA SUKA

Chapter 6: FAMILY GATHERING

Chapter 7: NOCTURNAL ACTIVITY

Chapter 8: FRIDAY

Chapter 9: THE FEAST OF PECHORIN

Chapter 10: STRIKE OF THE DEMON

Chapter 11: THE FOLLOWING DAY

Chapter 12:DRAGO VOLKOV

Chapter 13: TO KILL A WEREWOLF

Chapter 14: THE LAST SILVER BULLET

Chapter 15: FINAL CHAPTER

EPILOGUE

1

A FAR AWAY LAND

Osena was a relatively large Russian village located approximately one hundred and twenty kilometers northeast of Moscow. Although it had never acquired the status of a town, the settlement boasted a population of roughly four hundred inhabitants. Most settlements outside of the larger cities seldom had more than one hundred residents. The creation of Osena occurred at the conclusion of the Second World War. Returning veterans had been granted sizeable plots of land encircling a five-acre oval shaped fresh water lake. Initially, fifty meters of shorefront encircling this body of water had been reserved for a communal beach. A gravel road had marked the boundary where public property ended and private property began. Five years ago, this roadway had been paved and expanded slightly to accommodate the flow of modern motorized traffic, despite the fact that gas powered vehicles were a rarity in this vicinity. The majority of the residents still moved around either on foot or on bicycles.

Each allotted rectangular piece of land approximated one acre. They were arranged two deep and then separated by another ring road. Thus, every owner had easy access to his or her property by land. There were four circular roads in total. Thereafter, wilderness encompassed the tranquil, secluded village. Internally, every block of twenty real estate holdings, composed of ten across and two thick, was divided by a pathway perpendicular to the ring roads. One of these paths led to the main highway. Although all of the ring roads had been asphalted relatively recently, only about a dozen of the intersecting paths had been paved. Some had overgrown with lack of use. Others had been seeded with fruit trees a long time ago and currently displayed mature orchards. Although a few pear trees could be found, the majority were apple trees. Everyone came and picked what they required. Having high regard for their neighbours, no one ever took in excess of his or her needs and no one ever hoarded fruits.

One of these twenty lot sectors, located between the second and third ring road had been allocated for the village center. Therein, the government had constructed and subsequently operated a general store, a grocery store, an elementary school, which taught the basic academics for grades one to ten, a public library, a government administrative building, and a communal bathhouse. These simple facilities adequately satisfied the basic needs of the villagers. The inhabitants of Osena did not require much to accommodate their rural lifestyle.

When Osena was created, most of the residents were retired war veterans who, in addition to their land grant, also received a sizeable government pension. Some of the present day survivors were currently paid an old age supplement. The relatively large plots of reasonably fertile land were conducive to farming. The landowners usually established organized gardens and grew sufficient fresh vegetables to feed on in abundance during the fall. Any surplus was canned and preserved. These preserved perishables were eaten during the cold winter months and early spring sessions. Thereafter, the harvest for the coming autumn season was planted. In addition, some of the veterans raised a variety of livestock, consisting mostly of chickens, goats and pigs. Cows and horses were nowhere to be found.

Due to the rural nature of this particular settlement, there was no industry in Osena except for a sawmill that was located on the northern outskirts. This sole enterprise employed roughly two dozen individuals. A large number of the original landowners had died and had passed title to their offspring. Thus, there was a mix of age groups within the community. Although, the lake itself had been fished out a long time ago due to the non-existence of any conservation programs, the children still scurried to the shores to try their luck. Occasionally, someone caught something and this unusual event commanded a celebration. The adults lacked the patience of their children and rarely, if ever, fished on the spring fed lake. However, the outlaying forests still provided a hardy harvest of rabbits and squirrels. The larger animals such as deer, boar and moose had been hunted out decades ago.

The prime waterfront lots had been granted to the most valorous of the Russian war heroes. Vanya Lomonosov was one of these fortunate few. He had built a rudimentary dwelling out of rough hued lumber. It was a rectangular house with a steep pitch roof to withstand the heavy snowfalls. There were seven windows and one door. Two of the windows were located on the front of the dwelling and overlooked the lake. It was a very picturesque view. A large wooden door graced the left side of the wooden house. Beside it, there hung a huge pad lock, which had rusted with age. No one in Osena ever locked the house doors. There was no need. Everyone respected the rights of others. The trim around the door and windows was painted a pale blue, whereas, the rest of the humble hovel had been treated with a stain to preserve the wood.

Prior to constructing this edifice, which measured roughly fifteen feet by twenty feet, Vanya had dug out the basement by hand with a shovel. Bulldozers and other earth removal equipment were scarce and not available to these landowners. Thus, in order to break the frost line of four feet, each resident was required to dig out a hole of approximately six feet. Needless to say, this was a time consuming task Subsequent to excavating the basement, walls consisting of large rocks and cement were erected. Thereafter, the house could be built on this quasi-concrete foundation. However, despite their crude construction, these solid foundations had withstood the numerous harsh tests of time.

Originally, the place was lit with kerosene lamps in the evenings and on dark days. About fifteen years ago, the government had provided everyone with hydro. Everyone’s home was wired and outfitted to accommodate the relatively new power source. The government had paid for all of the installations. However, the acquisition of light bulbs proved to be a difficult matter. They arrived three months later. There were not enough for all of the sockets. At the moment, everyone had sufficient light bulbs, but they were prone to burn out every four months. Therefore, the residents usually stockpiled these precious commodities.

There was no indoor plumbing. Since this had been a communist country where individuality was frowned upon, everyone’s home looked the same with a few minor exceptions. The entire community was devoid of any diverse personality. Most often, the colour of the trim constituted the sole difference that distinguished individual homes. Four communal wells had been dug equidistance from one another inside of the first ring road. Everyone still carried water to their home by means of a wooden yoke and two metal buckets. A fifth well was drilled inside of the communal bathhouse. Thus, water was readily available for bathing. The men and women took turns bathing, frequently alternating weekend days. Predominantly, the men gathered, socialized and bathed on Saturday. Sunday was reserved for the ladies. No one had either the time or the inclination to wash thoroughly during the week.

Usually, the outhouse for each individual property was located in the furthest corner of the estate in an effort to avoid the stench during the hot summer season. On occasion, a wind blowing in the wrong direction foiled the intentions of the inhabitants. The locals would call these days the cruel jokes of Mother Nature. Toilet paper was unheard of. The owners employed newspapers and pages from old books. Bibles were sought after commodities because they had many pages and the pages were softer in texture. It was a hard life. But, then again, these people had never been exposed to anything different. This was their norm. They assumed that everyone shared similar hardships.

Unlike most settlements that either evolve or vanish, Osena stagnated. Despite its proximity to the nation’s capital, this village had remained virtually unaltered during the past fifty years. The introduction of electricity and the paving of the roads had been the only changes here. Perpetual progress as a critical variable of time had no impact on Osena. The majority of the populace consisted of second-generation landowners who had inherited their estates from their parents. However, a few of the original veterans, who had aged considerably since their arrival, were still active farmers. When they would pass away, there would be no problems in replacing the vacancies. Land ownership was a coveted privilege in Russia.

Vanya Lomonosov had married Zyna, the youngest sister of his best friend. Together they lived a happy, simple life with a primary focus on day-to-day subsistence. Vanya and Zyna had three chil-dren—Ivan, Volodja and Natasha. Lacking the aptitude and predisposition for education, Ivan, the eldest son, stayed close to his parents and learned the art of agriculture. He became a farmer. However, his true passion became apparent in hunting. He simply loved to hunt. It became his ultimate passion. In time, he became very proficient at this utilitarian sport. The family always had fresh wild meat for the diner table. Often times, Ivan would kill more than they could eat. Being of a generous nature and kind heart, he freely gave his surplus to neighbours and friends. Meat was a scarce commodity in rural Russia. Thus his gifts were greatly appreciated.

Volodja chose to pursue a loftier goal. Having completed the required tenth grade, he attended the prestigious Moscow University and became a medical doctor. Since private practice was prohibited in a communist state, Vanya’s second son worked at the communal hospital in the nearby town of Borisov. He also took an interest in cancer research and published two articles on the speculative theories advocating that all disease comes through the mind. His conclusions assertively stated that if one could cure a patient’s mind, the illness would automatically vanish. This was a radical proposal, especially for a medical doctor. At the time, his colleagues mocked him and commenced calling him the Mind Surgeon. He took their criticism in stride and continued his research nevertheless.

Unfortunately, Volodja did not live long enough to prove his hypothesis. In his third year of practice, he was stabbed to death one late night while returning from the government liquor dispensary. The perpetrators had murdered him for a bottle of vodka. Alcohol was rationed in Russia. Each person who was of legal drinking age was allotted only one bottle of vodka per month. Due to the fact that capitalism and free enterprise did not exist in this country, one could not purchase an additional bottle of vodka anywhere. Given the drinking habits of the Russians, vodka became a highly coveted commodity and often sold for astronomical prices that exceeded a month’s wages. Obviously, some criminals placed a higher value on money than human life. This was a blatant paradox in the socialist system.

It was indeed a sad day in Osena when Vanya and Zyna buried their son in the local cemetery. Almost the entire town was in attendance at the funeral. It had rained heavily that late spring day and there was mud everywhere. Ivan comforted his sister who cried more than her mother. She had been really close to Volodja. They had similar interests. At the moment, Natasha had completed her grade ten and had been accepted into the faculty of medicine at the University of Moscow. Little did she know at the time that life intended a radically different destiny for her.

Two years later, Natasha met and married an American Journalist, Andrei Donskov, who had come to do an article on Moscow. After a weeklong celebration in Osena in true Russian fashion, the newly weds departed for Williamsburg, Virginia in the United States. Andrei was of Russian descent and spoke the language fluently. Natasha had learned to speak English to an understandable degree at the University. Time passed quickly in the new land. Cultural differences were soon understood and absorbed by the Russian lady. Natasha gave birth to a son whom she and Andrei named Vasil. Their marriage had been blessed with happiness. But, Vasil was their only child. Natasha could not bear any more children.

Ivan also married. He wed a local farm girl by the name of Masha, approximately three years after his sister’s marriage. They lived with Ivan’s parents for another five years. Then, Vanya and Zyna died within days of each other in the cold winter month of December. Their frail bodies could no longer endure the hardships of everyday life. The brutal ravages of time had taken their toll and the grim reaper had readily harvested the souls of the elderly couple. Vanya and Zyna were buried next to their deceased son, Volodja in the cemetery of Osena. Thus, Ivan and Masha became the exclusive and undisputed heirs to the Lomonosov estate. Natasha was extremely happy in America and had no desire to return to Russia. Although she did not come to the funeral of her parents, Natasha had promised Ivan that she would come to visit him sometime in the future. She had kept her promise and had returned with her husband and son to visit her brother.

Within the next seven years, Masha gave birth to five children—three boys and two girls. Another thirty years passed quickly. Nothing much changed. Some of the locals had acquired transistor radios, but no one knew what a television set was. All of the Lomonosov children had grown up and had gotten married. Only Maria, the youngest daughter, remained in Osena with her husband. In due course, their children started to arrive. She worked in the village library as the head librarian. Her husband found employment in the local sawmill. The three boys, Alyosha, Kostja and Maxim, and their respective families lived and laboured in Moscow. Tamara, the eldest daughter, had followed her husband to Leningrad. There, they both worked in a meat processing plant. At this time, Ivan and Masha had eleven grandchildren in total. More were promised.

Today was September the twenty seventh—the last Saturday of this month. Summer had long passed and the autumn season was making its presence known. The deciduous trees had already lost at least half of their foliage. Only the conifers maintained their natural stately appearance. Ivan had just closed up his small stable that was located near the outhouse at the rear of the property. The out building measured roughly ten feet by eight feet and had a height of approximately six feet. There was only one door in the front and a large window in the back.

Ivan and Masha had bought a piglet in the spring. The small pig had grown considerably since then. Soon, the bore would be butchered for a special occasion. Lomonosov’s nephew from America was coming to visit his relatives in Russia. It would be Vasil’s third sojourn in Russia. He had accompanied his parents on two previous occasions. This time he was coming by himself.

Ivan was a big boned, stocky man of short stature. He barely broke the five foot five inch mark. Yet, despite his age, he was still as strong as a bull. Last month, this hardy Russian had turned fifty-six. Ivan had rugged facial features that exuded their own brand of pulchritude. Although his once black hair had turned to silver, his deep-set blue eyes still sparkled with life. A thick white moustache separated his nose from his upper lip. One could also notice that his ears were larger than normal. He was as hard as the land that he called home.

After making a stop at the outhouse, Ivan proceeded to the door on his dwelling. It was located on the left side and was the sole entrance. Inside, his wife, Masha, and the two neighbours, Vadim and Marusja Banturov, were already sitting at the kitchen table. They would play many hands of Durock, which was a national Russian card game, and then retire for the evening. These two couples always gathered on Saturday evening for the weekly card game. The cards had long outlived their useful life and were barely readable, but there was no other deck. Perhaps, the American nephew would bring one. Masha started to deal as soon as Ivan walked through the door.

The interior of the abode was dimly lit with two light bulbs. It was of a simplistic design that featured two discernable sections-a combination living room/bedroom with a couch that folded down into a bed, and a kitchen. However, partition walls were never built. There was a relatively large armoire in the living room that contained the sparse belongings of the Lomonosovs. Only a rectangular table and four wooden chairs decorated the kitchen. A hole had been drilled out near the front of the house in order to feed in an electrical wire, which ran across the ceiling. At the middle of the living room ceiling another wire had been spliced in. From it hung the first light bulb. The second light bulb was located in the kitchen, having been attached in a similar crude fashion. There was only one switch, located near the entrance door that operated both lights. A kitchen counter had been built into the back wall. However, there was only a large washbasin. A sink had never been installed.

Also, there was an enormous wood stove that had been constructed of metal and cement at the back wall. It was situated on the center of the