Arnaut Pavle

By V. Zaporozki

Did you know there is an official document about vampires from the year 1732 which was put together by Doctor Flukinger and titled 'Visum et Repertum'? It was published in newspapers that year and it caused fear and commotion among the Europeans. The document mentions Arnaut Pavle which Doctor Flukinger registered as the first ever case of the unknown vampire disease.

Learn all about Pavle's evil fate, how he fought the nasty illness that overcame him in the end, about his military life in Greece, the return to his homeland, the development of vampirism and the hidden world around us. Enjoy this adventure which is based on true events from the 18th century.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Zaporožki Books
• Release date: Nov 27, 2023
• ISBN: 9798223896012

Book preview

Table of Contents

V. Zaporožki | Arnaut | Pavle | Visum et Repertum

Part one

Part two

Part three

Part four

Epilogue

The end

V. Zaporožki

Arnaut

Pavle

Visum et Repertum

Based on Visum et Repertum, the first scientific document about vampires from 1732

©2019, V. Zaporožki

E: [e-mail]

All rights reserved.

No part of this book can be used nor reproduced in

any form without the written consent of the author.

Translated from Serbian by Sonja Ilić

Part one

At the end of the 17th century, riots in Serbia surged one right after the other. The people demanded lower taxes, rebelled against authority, accusing them of excessive pecuniary sanctions. In central Serbia, in the Morava district, a group of soldiers revolted under the leadership of knez[1] Mileta. After one battle at Stalać, they won the territory and suppressed the Turks to the other side of the Morava river. The knez decided, after negotiations with the Turkish vizier, to render his territory and retreat the army. At a gathering in front of the church in Stalać a fight broke out with knez Mileta, they accused him of selling them to the Turks for a fistful of gold coins. The rebel group was made up of able heroes, young, but already experienced in battle. Among the most prominent ones, there was Pavle Joksimović. He was the loudest one, he cursed the knez and threatened to behead him, whirling his sabre at his subjects. Among the rebels, there were also his brother Sreten, a childhood friend Radovan, Vasa, Petar, Jevrem and Yanis the Greek who fought side by side with them. Pavle, straightforward, known for seeking justice, assailed the knez, overcoming his people, not caring for his own life. The others followed, pushing the knez's subjects aside in order to tackle Mileta. This hustling led to a smaller conflict between former companions in arms. Hidden by his people who protected him from the raging crowd, the knez threatened to kill them all, and mentioned Pavle's name many times.

- You will remember me, Pavle, or my name isn't Mileta - he sat on his horse and sped off, still threatening.

His companions could barely calm Pavle, the anger within him was making his entire body shake. He was clutching the sabre, ready to go after the knez. He was only 23 at the time, and already a battle hero. He had been handling weapons since he was 17, together with his brother and friends he charged at the Turks with no fear. He didn't care for injustice, and injustice was everywhere around him. After the knez's treachery he decided to leave Serbia. He said goodbye to his comrades-in-arms and brother, promising that he'll be back in a year - two, not knowing what fate lay ahead. Together with Yanis the Greek and another fifteen or so comrades he set off for Greece. During one conversation Yanis told him that the Greeks paid their soldiers in gold, since they're already fighting the Turks, they might as well get something out of it. In any case, the fight against the Turks is the same, wherever it takes place. This way they will defend the faith and the church that the enemies tore down and set on fire, unafraid of God. They set off through Serbia towards a country that was unknown to them. The journey was long and strenuous, the scorching summer days slowing their horses down. Because of enemy troops they were forced to travel through forests and mountains. Finally, they arrived to the deep forests of Epirus. On the way, Yanis was explaining customs and teaching them basic words in Greek. They joked, clumsily pronouncing the foreign words. The camp they were headed for was located west. It took them another two days of riding including the occasional rest.

- We can set up camp here until the morning, we have no more food, we'd better hunt something down - Yanis spoke to his travel companions.

- Pavle is the most skilful at that, he always catches something - Jevrem added as he took the load off the horse.

- I'll go then, it's still not dark. At night I can only hunt owls - Pavle jokingly added - Jevrem, you unsaddle my horse while I prepare your feast.

Everyone laughed at Pavle's joke. It didn't take him long to set up the traps, skilful as he was. As a boy his grandfather taught him how to do this. He sat next to a tree and waited for something to get caught, he pulled his black hat down to his eyes, listening to the wilderness of this unknown forest. The sun was slowly dying out, with just a few rays still coming through from the west. The forest was getting darker. There was a rustling sound behind his back. He jumped to his feet, thinking he had finally caught something, and made his way towards the trap, without realizing that he himself had become someone's victim. Something was preying on him and scratching the ground with long, broken claws, waiting for the prey to come closer. Pavle was distracted by voices coming from the opposite direction, one of which he recognized immediately, it was Jevrem. The clamouring interrupted the lurking of the dark-eyed visitor. Hungry and unsatisfied, he silently left his hiding place, disappearing between the trees.

- You're so loud, you're scaring all the animals away - he scolded his compatriot.

- We came to help, I figured you might have caught a wild hog and you can't drag it back on your own - Jevrem grunted, imitating the animal.

- It's getting dark, and still nothing - just as he let these words out, a cry came from the direction of the trap.

All three of them ran that way. There was a fawn in the trap, trying to get away, tugging its leg entangled in rope. Pavle calmed the animal, while his battle companions were breaking a long, thick branch in order to easily carry the fawn back to their campsite. They were all soon feasting on the tasty warm meat which put them in good spirits. They started singing battle songs, moistening their throats with rakia[2]. The song spread through the forest, the silence letting it travel far. Yanis sang with them, he had learnt many Serbian songs from his companions, his voice was deep. When he would start singing, many would fall silent, he was pleasant to listen to. An animal cry mixed into their song. They all looked at one another, and Pavle and another two men grabbed their swords.

- What's this? - someone asked.

- It must be a night bird. I have never heard such a thing, I'm all in a sweat - Jevrem added as he wiped his forehead.

- People say it's the cry of the vrykolakas[3], but no one has ever encountered it - Yanis added.

- What's that, some sort of bird? - Pavle was curious.

- No, no, they say it's a man who drinks blood, man - beast - the Greek man scared them and started telling the story.

- I used to live in a village where the only fear ever came from an enemy sword. Not far from it, there was a small church with a few elderly monks. Everything was ordinary, we were mostly shepherds and agricultural workers, and at the same time we fought against the Arnauts. In the village, there was a well-to-do household, the Panadopulos family. I remember this man Herasim very well, a good man, of a brave heart, who had a wife, Sofia, and two sons old enough for battle. Their house was the last one in the village, slightly separate from the others, surrounded by pastures. That Herasim fed half of the Epirus rebels, as he had herds of sheep. But suddenly something happened to that family. They neglected the estate, their cattle were supposedly dropping dead, until there were no sheep. Nobody suspected anything until they found a girl by the river, her body livid and her neck torn. Then, not long after her, another two shepherds were found in the same state, drained, somehow withered. One of them had a bite mark under his ear. One of the villagers swore that one of Herasim's sons had attacked him and bit his arm, but that he managed to slip away from him. He ran away to the church and told the monks that the young man had teeth like a wolf and bloody eyes. Other villagers had noticed that something was going on with that family, they said they never left the house during the day. After the bitten man's complaint, the village chieftain and the monks made their way to their house, but didn't find any of them there. The monks asked the villagers to find them, explaining that they weren't people anymore, that they fell sick with an illness that only allows them to survive if they drink human blood. The entire village started searching, but for as long as I was there, they never found them. The only thing they kept finding were traces of slaughtered animals and people. Exactly like the ones we stumbled upon in the village. Whatever happened then, I don't know, the road led me elsewhere. All eyes were staring at Yanis, while some felt strange chills run through their bodies.

- I've heard similar stories, but who can say if they're true, people make all sorts of things up - someone shouted from the group.

- Let's avoid these stories during the night - a man named Dragutin said as he rubbed his arm full of goose bumps.

- It's just stories, Dragutin, what are you, scared? - Jevrem teased him.

They heard the same cry once more, but now from afar. A number of them turned to see what was behind them, and Dragutin cursed out loud. They teased one another throughout the night, imitating the cries such as the one coming from the forest. Dragutin was so scared that he pulled his wool coat over his head, although he could barely breathe underneath it. Just before dawn they set off further towards the campsite, some relieved to see the daylight, although many had kept their eyes open all night, hiding their fear from their companions. The campsite was finally in sight. As they drew nearer, people started to gather round, looking to see who was coming. Yanis, when he saw that some had drawn out their swords, yelled out in Greek:

- Here come friends! - he waved his hand hello. 

The campsite was situated by a river, there were some more than fifty men. There were tents set up along the grass meadow, it all looked like a small village. There were horses all around, who were peacefully grazing, and a few goats and sheep, poultry, as well as skin and wool hanging from a rope. A relatively short, stocky man stepped out of the group. His head was shaved so smoothly that it beamed in the sunlight. His most prominent feature was a scar over his left eye which stretched down to his upper lip. Right where the scar ended, a thick black moustache began, which descended underneath his beard. He approached the visitors and spoke to them in Greek.

- Good day to you, what brings you here?

Yanis got off his horse and took his hat off hoping that his friend would recognize him.

- Yorgos, my brother, don't you recognize me?

The man stretched his lips into a smile and spread out his arms.

- Yanis - he hugged him tight, then lifted him off the ground.

Pavle and the others got off their horses upon seeing the friendly encounter. Yanis introduced the others telling his friends that they had come with him to fight.

- More soldiers are always welcome.

And that’s how a group of Serbian heroes joined the Greek rebels in the fight against the Turks and the Arnauts, defending the borders, fighting the enemies fiercely. That entire area was under the Turkish rule, but the Greek rebels had set their own borders in order to keep these areas safe from the Arnauts and all sorts of other Turkish allies. Year after year went by, Greek became their second language, the Greeks became their brothers. Battles unfolded one after the other, and each time they came back from battle, someone had lost their life. Pavle’s feelings and grief for his war companions became numb, this became normal over time, but in each new battle he would charge more fiercely and aggressively with his sabre, for the sake of avenging his friends. He was appreciated and respected by his comrades-in-arms, they considered him a man of great heart, courage and loyalty. In battle he would always cheer the army on, imbuing them with strength with his courage. He would be among the first ones to charge and he was always ready to face his opponents. Known for his bad temper, but righteous. His only fault was that he wasn’t a forgiving person, he took pleasure in revenge, he enjoyed it. He didn’t even forgive his closest friends or family if they offended him. He would always seek to pay them back equally. His enemies were intimidated by him. Word of his skilful hand and heroic heart reached the Arnaut leader and the Turkish Pasha[4]. On the enemy side, there was a certain Musa, a well-built man, great hero. He had cut many Greek heads, burnt down many villages, killed women and children, he cared for nothing. He was rumoured to be able to lift a horse upon his back and carry it a hundred steps. Then rumors about Pavle reached him as well. In one battle, while they were fighting, Pavle was skilfully handling the sabres, while the Arnauts were falling down all around him, beheaded. Musa happened to be in the same battle and he saw how able his was, so he challenged him to a duel. Giving precedence to his experience and size, he didn’t fear the likes of Pavle. They charged at one another crossing their sabres. Pavle, who, although young, was a seasoned soldier, fiercely charged at Musa, until he threw him off his horse. Musa realized that his one wasn’t to be messed with, so he jumped to his feet, ready to take him. Pavle got off his horse, holding sabers in both hands. They attacked each other and sparks flew off the metal blades. The battle stopped, all eyes were staring at them, people starting cheering. Pavle, agile and fast, raised his right arm at challenger. As he was blocking his sabre, Pavle plunged his left sabre under his belly button, then pulled it all the way to his throat. Musa fell down like a cut-down tree, his turban fell of his head, then rolled down the slope. Then the Arnauts started running, throwing their sabers behind them. That’s when Pavle got the nickname from the Greeks, Arnaut Pavle, for exterminating the enemies. After this duel with Musa, the enemies were even more intimidated by him, even the Turkish Pasha offered a bag of gold coins for his head, and the Greeks considered him one of the greatest heroes. After that, whenever someone would mention that duel and Musa’s strength, that he could lift a horse, Pavle would just smile and say that he was heavier than a horse and that’s why Musa couldn’t lift him. Known as a fearless man, they awarded him as the leader of the exploration group that would patrol the villages and forests near the border, in order to protect their people and faith from enemy invasions. He was the only Serb left, some returned home after a few years, some died in battle. The last one to leave was Jevrem. While patrolling the village of Koileda, the villagers welcomed them upset. They were lamenting that some villagers had gone missing.

- Nine in one month. That never happened before, they went to the woods and never came back - an elder villager was saying in a worried tone - the last three men went to look for two girls who had gone to the river to wash clothes.

Pavle and the other soldiers exchanged looks, they knew that something was off. Some of their soldiers had gone missing as well.

- It must be an Arnauts group that managed to sneak in, and is now raiding the woods. - Yanis, who was in Pavle’s group, replied - we’ll search the grounds, they must have left traces - they headed towards the river on horseback.

They searched everywhere and didn’t find any traces. They went towards a spring where there was a ditch right next to it. One of the soldiers jumped off his horse to get some water, when something red from out of the ditch caught his attention.

- There’s something red over there - he pointed.

Pavle and Yanis got off their horses and started walking down towards the bottom of the ditch. Yanis tugged on the red cloth, and someone’s hand came out along with it.

- There’s something here! - he shouted.

He started moving the branches that were thrown on top and the others joined him. They soon found more livid bodies, some looked shriveled, and some had already started decomposing. Among the bodies, there were the two missing girls and villagers, a few of their friends who stood guard, but a few Arnauts as well. They were dumbfounded.

- What are these Arnauts doing here? - a soldier asked Yanis.

- And what should I know? Can’t you see they must have been killed by robbers? What else can it be?

An older soldier budged the body of an enemy soldier with his foot only to see a huge wound, more like a hole. His whole throat was missing.

- Look at that, they really slaughtered him!

They started moving the bodies, only to see that all of them had a similar wound. Some beneath the ear, but all in the neck region.

- If they hadn’t been neatly arranged and hidden, I’d say it was a wolf - Pavle said, convinced that this was the work of a band of merciless robbers.

- But, people, look, this one has his money bag! - one soldier bent down and untied the small bag off one of the corpses that was hanging from his belt - these aren’t robbers - opening the leather bag, gold coins flashed in the light.

Yanis remembered the story about the vrykolakas, he shook his head, twisted his lips a little not believing it’s true. As if he marvelled at himself for even thinking it.

- We have to let Yorgos know about this - Pavle said.

Yorgos was surprised when they told him what they had found.

- We will reinforce the guard and we’ll patrol the grounds very often. We’ll surely catch them - he said and although he was a little suspicious about it being robbers nothing else came to mind.

Together with his friends, Pavle patrolled and explored the forest. The group he was leading would often come across bodies just like the ones in the ditch, their throats torn, livid and shrivelled.

- Still nothing, we only found Vasilis and some other unknown bodies. Judging by his clothes, one of them is a Turk. All of them covered in twigs and branches, their skin full of bruises - Pave was reporting to Yorgos.

- We have been after these villains for years. I don’t understand what’s going on? - the Greek was asking himself - some months pass by, and they turn up again - he twitched his eyebrows, astonished.

***

The deep Epirus woods hid great secrets, which were retold from father to son, but nobody believed in them, these were just stories. The Turks and the Arnauts were advancing and aiming to conquer Epirus, there seemed to have been more and more of them. The Greek rebels fought bravely and suppressed the enemies further with each new battle. The campsite grew with each passing month, people had massively started coming in to defend what was sacred and preserve their faith. The year 1723, a group of horsemen went to check the forest led by Pavle. He was handsome, tall, and his broad shoulders were covered with somewhat scruffy, black hair, with a couple of grey ones which only spoke of his maturity. His head was adorned with his distinguishing black shubara hat[5] with long flaps that fell down his face and united with his black moustache, which neatly descended down his face yet clearly showed a pair of tightly sealed lips underneath. He had dark eyes that gleamed with a certain crazy flare. His low, black eyebrows gave an air of respect to his face, and one could even say they sparked fear in the people who didn’t know him. His white shirt, always unbuttoned, showed his chest which was full of scars, both old and new. It’s late in the evening, and it’s already starting to get dark, the sky is still crimson from the sun. It looks as if someone spilled all the celestial colours over it. The word had reached them that an enemy group had been spotted not far from the forest valley. The task was to check out this part of the forest and not to allow the enemy to reach the villages, to save the people and stop them from being displaced. They spent the whole night patrolling the forest. Riding toward the designated place, they had just entered the big valley near the old oak tree when the enemy attacked. The Greeks, always ready for battle, took out their sabres, in spite of being outnumbered. Even though it was late at night, the moon was bright, so you could see well. The nocturnal silence was broken by the clanking of metal against metal, every once in a while, the cries of the wounded fighters could be heard. The enemy leader recognized Pavle, so he resolutely charged at him, his horse running at full speed. He waved his sabre clearing his way, slaying the Greeks who tried to pull him of his horse. They attacked one another with their swords, Pavle rushed at him, not leaving him with time enough to raise his sword. The Arnaut skilfully defended himself deflecting the blade. They’re still on their horses, both proud and determined to win. At one point, one enemy soldier who had already been thrown off his horse approached Pavle from behind and hit his left leg with his sabre. He turned to the left, still on his horse, and bent down and plunged his sabre into his gut. Just as he got up to continue where he left off in his fight with the enemy leader, he saw him pointing his flintlock gun at him. He ducked and lay down on his horse. The gun fired, the horse pranced out of fear and threw Pavle off. Pavle hit his head on something and it became silent and dark. While he was lying unconscious, his wounded horse fell next to him as well. The Arnaut got off his horse, approached him, raised his sword to finish him off, but Yanis prevented his blow with his sword. Yanis was strong, an experienced fighter, he fought to save Pavle’s life. After a long fight, he plunged his sword through the Arnauts chest, but two enemies jumped at him as soon as they saw that their leader was dead. While he was stabbing on of them in the gut, the other shot him in the back with his gun. After some time, everyone was now on the ground. Some dead, some only wounded, only a few of them alive on both sides after the battle. One Arnaut was pouring water out of the waterskin over his wounded abdomen. He was just about to take his shirt of and rip it up to cover the wound, and just as he lifted his head, he saw some kind of creature in front of him. He saw a hand with big claws stretching out and lowering onto his wound, he didn’t manage to make a sound, his head simply dropped. The Greek soldier who was sitting there, leaning on a tree stump, saw what happened, unaware himself of what that was, he grabbed his gun that was lying next to him. He gawked, not believing what he was seeing. Although it was dark, he could clearly see something similar to man with bear claws ripping the Arnaut’s guts. It was tearing the flesh off his abdomen with its teeth, yanking its head with every bite. Out of fear, the soldier raised his gun at this creature, when a few other such creatures appeared in front of him, he didn’t have the time to fire. One of them grabbed him by the neck and ripped him apart like a beast. They began their feast, ripping the flesh off dead bodies and sucking the blood. As the day approached, their bellies full they retreated back to their den. One of them stayed behind to finish its meal.

***

There were bodies lying all over the field. Some of them were still alive. Day was breaking, the light was feeble. There, among the bodies, lay Pavle, next to some rocks. With his head and leg wounded he was slowly coming to. He was awakened by a sharp pain in his left leg. He tried to open his eyes. His head was heavy, and the pain grew stronger. He felt someone tug at his leg and heard a strange growl. He pulled his leg in, bending it at the knee, but someone pulled it back. This time the pain was much stronger, and it cleared his head immediately. He got up on his elbows, saw someone, a silhouette holding his leg with both hands. He thought it might have been tending to his wound. As his vision and head cleared, he saw that something was eating his leg and heard it slurping, drinking up the blood from out of his wound. He abruptly pulled his leg away, and the silhouette stood up and flashed his teeth at him. His eyes flared like a flash of lightning. Pavle let out a cry out of fear, felt a sword next to him, raised it to hit the creature with it. The screech echoed through the forest. It was eerie. Pavle’s blood froze. He couldn’t believe what he saw with his wide-open eyes. It was a man but it also wasn’t one. A true monster. With protruding sharp teeth, and glaring eyes of a beast. Its chin was dripping with blood. Its skin was wrinkled as if steamed with water, and some blue veins started spreading around his eyes and lowering all the way to its wrinkled cheeks. The body was human, legs and arms with long, sharp nails, you could say claws, slightly bent downwards. Its head was almost hairless, and the rare strands of hair were sticky with blood. Pavle was so scared that he waved his sabre at it once again, then started yelling off the top of his lungs:

- Aaaaaaaaaaaaa - in order to scare the beast away.

The beast, wounded by the sabre, turned around and started fleeing. It moved both as a man and as an animal, sometimes on two, sometimes on four feet. Pavle looked around, he was surrounded by dead bodies. Some were ripped into pieces, just like the ones they had found in the woods. His dead friends were lying there as well. Some of them were unrecognizable. He felt an anger beating in his chest. He’s been in their company for years. What have they gotten into? Even Arnauts were lying there, and some of them had also been ripped apart. He looked around, and the anger and sadness made the tears come on their own. Further down toward the forest, he saw the monster dragging itself. Pavle stood up leaning on his sword, he hastily tied up his leg with a piece of cloth, and picked up a couple of flintlock guns and tucked them into his belt. He took a sabre in each hand and went after it. He passed his dead friends, recognizing every one of them. Nobody survived but Pavle. Further down he saw a few dead Arnauts. One of them was lying with his gut torn. His intestines were scattered on the ground. His neck half slain. Pavle looked around disconcerted. He set off to see where the beast was headed, he was shaking with fear, but didn’t give up, he resolutely followed him. The day was slowly dawning. The creature was moving heavily, more like dragging, as Pavle had wounded him badly. He could see traces of blood here and there, when he came out to a clearing, he could see it in the distance. His leg hurt, he would stop to rest and press on the cloth he had used to tie up the wound. It crossed his mind that the beast wanted to eat him, so he shuddered at that thought. His heart was beating in his chest as if it were about to fly out, the fear made him sharpen his senses. He was breathing heavily, his mouth was dry, he grabbed his belt to take out the waterskin, but it wasn’t there, he had dropped it somewhere. He was careful not to be noticed by the beast, he carefully chose his every step. Everything was so quiet, there was no wind, the grass was dewy. Nothing out of the ordinary, everything appeared normal. He saw the creature climb a small hill, he was far away from it, but he could see it well now. The sun was out, shining light on the entire forest, the visibility was high. He got as close as he could, hid behind a tree, he didn’t breathe, he just stared in the direction of where he last saw it. It’s gone, it has disappeared, he scanned the surroundings left - right, in order to spot it. He held his breath and focused all of his senses. He was listening carefully. He had just decided to move on, when he saw two creatures sticking their heads out from behind a rock, he even saw the cave they hid in. He felt his throat clench from the fear. He hugged the tree with both his arms wanting to becoming embedded in it. He saw them sniffing the airs like dogs, he watched them, he didn’t have the courage to blink, he was afraid they would hear every hum. One of them stood straight, then let out an eerie shriek that echoed through the woods. Flocks of birds flew to the sky. He startled, terrified, he saw a slope and ran down it, so fast that he didn’t have the guts to turn around. He didn’t even feel the pain in his leg anymore, nor did he remember that he had been wounded. He just kept running, god knows how long. His lungs will burst from panting, he could hear himself fighting for air, but he couldn’t stop. He saw people in the distance. He couldn’t yell, he tried, but no sound would come out of him. He lifted his arms and started waving them. The people were on horseback, galloping towards him. He didn’t even consider that they could be enemies. Now he was only afraid of what was behind him. Those were his men, he recognized his friends, and among them Yorgos, their leader. Pavle then stopped, he couldn’t go on anymore, he bent down and put his hands on his thighs. He was trying to catch his breath. Yorgos quickly got off his horse, threw the reins to one of the soldiers and ran up to him. Pavle was standing in front of Yorgos, flustered and still out of breath.

- Help, people - he barely muttered - there in the forest there.... something’s there - he turned to the forest and indistinctly pointed with his right hand.

He tried to swallow his saliva. His throat was dry from running, he was still panting. He lowered himself to the ground and sat down. His eyes were filled with fear.

- What is it, Pavlos, what has gotten into you? - Yorgos got down on one knee right next to him - easy, easy, take some water - Yorgos spread his hand out asking someone to pass him the waterskin.

Pavle took several sips of water. His breathing slowed down, but his heart was still racing.

- What happened to the others? - Konstantin asked.

- Dead, all of them - he swallowed another sip of water then continued - our men and theirs, something attacked us - he started telling - we were fighting, when I passed out, I don’t know what from - he told them everything that had happened until that moment - Yorgos, they eat people. D’you understand, people eating people. Look, it bit my leg - he untied the cloth he had put around his ankle, and showed them the wound.

The wound was big, still dripping with blood, a few spots showed teeth marks.

- What do you mean, Pavlos, how can it be people, are you sure? - Konstantin intervened.

- I swear that’s how it is, it’s a man, but it looks like a beast - he had his hand on his chest as if he was swearing an oath.

Yorgos called Konstantin to the side.

- What could he have seen? Pavlos is serious, can’t you see he’s terrified, he saw something and something wicked at that. He’s not even afraid of bears, and this scared him - Yorgos said in a worried tone.

Konstantin turned around, looked at Pavle, he had never seen him like this.

- He’s seen something, I’m sure of it, what could have scared him this much? - Konstantin scratched his beard inquisitively.

They spent some time trying to calm their friend down. They asked him about where he last saw these people, but he only waved his hands. He didn’t want to go back there, so he kept the part about the cave to himself.

- Put a bandage on his wound and take him to the campsite to have the giatros[6] take a look at him - Yorgos gave the order to two soldiers, while looking at Pavle who wasn’t exactly himself - we’ll go to the battlefield to bury the dead, and maybe we’ll find something out as well.

Soldiers approached Pavle who was terrified, one of them held out his hand to help him get up and on his horse.

- Can you ride? - the soldier asked him in a worried tone.

He just nodded his head looking over to Yorgos and the others. He saw them going further and disappearing in the forest. Chills ran through his body, he was shivering all over, every muscle twitching. He had never felt such a thing before. The soldiers asked him questions about the event on the way. He barely answered their questions, his voice was still trembling and he suddenly felt weak and somehow beside himself, as if he wasn’t himself anymore. The image of that creature flashing its teeth at him kept coming back to his mind, so he often looked over his shoulder, it felt as if it were breathing down his neck. He barely endured the horse ride back to the campsite. His leg hurt with every swift trotting pace of the horse. When they rode into the campsite, he tumbled off the horse and hit the ground, lying there unconscious. The soldier called for a certain Tanasis who was known as an apothecary. He knew the most about medicine.

- What happened, where are the others? - he asked, helping the soldier set the wounded man down.

- It’s not good my Tanasis, there’s trouble. They went to the battlefield to bury the dead, he’s the only one who survived - he gestured towards Pavle with his head.

Pavle came to as the apothecary took the bandage off his leg. He pulled his leg away in fear, as if Tanasis was going to bite into it as well. He looked at him confused. He knew him well, he’s not a coward, he had tended to many of his wounds. He was never afraid, and now he can see him shaking.

- Ah, it’s deep. What has bitten you like this? - he looked up, confused.

- Leave that now, bandage my wound - he whispered barely making a sound.

Tanasis treated his wound, put some greenish oil on it, all the while looking at the wound in awe.

- Rub this oil in every day and wrap it with a clean cloth so it doesn’t get infected - he gave him some ointment in a small bottle.

***

The valley was covered with bodies, the vultures were already coming down to desecrate them. They gave a shout to scare them off. Some flew away, but some wouldn’t give up their meal. One soldier saw a vulture tearing the flesh off some Arnaut, so he took the waterskin, and threw it at the vulture. It only jumped off, then returned to continue its meal.

- What’s this? - someone shouted.

The bodies were massacred, mostly slain, you could even see one’s lungs. A few of the bodies had their insides taken out, and the flies had already started gathering. One Arnaut’s head was hanging from a stump and another one was missing an arm. They checked all the bodies, but no one was alive. An elder soldier from a