Something

The village of Großberg slept in the mid-summer’s eve, eclipsed by the mountains far above as the full moon hung overhead. A shape stirred on the bare peak that towered above the rest, wings unfolding as the creature took its shape. Clothed in shadow, it was vaguely humanoid, horns cresting on its head as the snow tumbled down its shoulders, forming its hair. One clawed hand reached into the sky and gestured forward, casting its shadow across the settlement.

Awake and be merry, a voice commanded. Not heard from the creature’s mouth, but within their minds. A raucous gathering of spirits and nightmares dancing in the sky upwards towards their summoner. Men and women shivered in their beds, feeling the cloying touch of the mountain’s master. Trumpets and other musical instruments could be heard from the gathering of spectres as the shadows danced across the valley below the mountain.

Braziers lit of their own accord, waking villagefolk and drawing them to the streets. Their minds were hazy, it was not a time for fear and pain, it was a celebration! A grand sabbath! The blacksmith’s wife reveled in her newfound physique, full breasts and hips jiggling as a porcine tail sprung up from her backside. The innkeeper’s son finding his sister to have become a Kikimora, her docile smile bringing his lust to a high summit.

Farther and farther the strings were plucked, the figure on the mount waving its arms like a grand maestro conducting an orchestra. The sounds of merriment and copulation increased as men bedded their wives in the streets, rutting not unlike animals. Gone was their humanity, the womenfolk moaning and becoming increasingly lively as the shadows passed over them.

Their husbands paid no mind, and why should they? The God they had only spoken of in fearful whispers had delivered unto them their ideal waifs! Praise be to the Lord of the Bare Mountain! Praise be to the witch’s sabbath on this most glorious of evenings! But a sound could be heard, a growing gonging in the distance in the peaks above their valley. The sun crested above the peaks, slowly rising.

With it, the people of Großberg shivered, and somehow new that the dawn brought only one thing. The end of the fantasy, the figure on the mountain’s peak recoiling as the sun’s ray penetrated its obscuring aura. Wings folded onto its body, and the peak was stone and snow once more.