Shadows in Marotinu de Sus
The moon cast long shadows over Marotinu de Sus as winter winds whistled through the tiny Romanian village. Old wooden houses creaked in the dark, their windows glowing with dim candlelight. It was 2004, but in this remote corner of Romania, time seemed to move slower. 🌙
"Something is wrong," Maria whispered to her children as they huddled around the fireplace. "Ever since Petre Toma died, strange things have been happening."
The children leaned in closer, their eyes wide with wonder and fear. Everyone in the village knew Petre Toma - the quiet farmer who lived at the edge of town. He was a simple man who tended his crops and kept to himself. But now, six weeks after his death, people were starting to talk.
"The chickens won't lay eggs anymore," said one neighbor.
"My cows give sour milk," said another.
"I hear footsteps at night, but no one is there," whispered a third.
In Marotinu de Sus, these weren't just strange happenings - they were signs. The older folks remembered the ancient stories their grandparents told them about the strigoi - the undead who rise from their graves to trouble the living.
Little Ana tugged at her mother's sleeve. "What's a strigoi, Mama?"
Maria looked nervously at the window before answering. The old tales said that strigoi were special kinds of vampires. They weren't like the scary monsters in movies. These were regular people who, after death, became restless spirits.
Here's what the villagers believed about strigoi:
They could appear as normal people during the day
They visited their families at night
They made people and animals sick
They drained the life force from the living
They could only be stopped through special rituals
"But those are just old stories," Maria said quickly, trying to comfort her children. Yet her voice trembled as she spoke.
🚨 Important Note: In rural Romania, many people still believed in supernatural beings in 2004. These beliefs came from very old traditions passed down through families.
More whispers spread through the village each day. People said they saw Petre walking at night, wearing his favorite red scarf. Others claimed their relatives fell ill after dreaming about him. The village doctor couldn't explain why so many people were getting sick.
"We must do something," said Old Ioan, the village elder, during a secret meeting. "Before it's too late."
The villagers gathered in small groups, speaking in hushed tones. Some wanted to follow modern ways and ignore the signs. Others remembered the old customs and feared what might happen if they did nothing.
Young Stefan, who had studied in the city, tried to calm everyone down. "These are just coincidences," he said. "We live in modern times now."
But his grandmother shook her head slowly. "Some things don't change, child. Some dangers are as old as the earth itself."
As January turned colder, more people reported strange events. Gardens withered overnight. Children woke up with mysterious bruises. The village priest found scratches on the church door.
The fear grew like shadows at sunset, stretching longer and darker across Marotinu de Sus. Something had to be done - but what could they do in a world that no longer believed in vampires?
In the Toma family home, Petre's daughter couldn't sleep. Every night, she heard knocking on her window. Every morning, she felt more tired than the day before. When she looked in the mirror, her face was pale and drawn, as if something was draining her energy away.
The modern world said vampires weren't real. But in Marotinu de Sus, facing the longest nights of winter, the old fears felt very real indeed. The villagers had to make a choice: follow the old ways or trust in modern science. And they had to decide quickly, before more people got sick.
A cold wind blew through the village, rattling windows and doors. In the cemetery, dried leaves danced over Petre Toma's grave. And in their homes, the people of Marotinu de Sus waited, wondering what darkness the next night would bring.The Gathering of Fears
The village meeting hall was packed tight as a jar of pickles. Everyone in Marotinu de Sus had come, even those who usually stayed home. The room smelled like wet wool coats and worry. 🏠
"My daughter hasn't eaten in three days," said Mrs. Popescu, wringing her hands. "She says her grandfather Petre visits her dreams every night."
Old Ioan stood at the front of the room, his white beard glowing in the lamplight. "We have counted seventeen sick people this week. The doctor from the city says it's just winter flu, but..." He paused, looking at the worried faces around him.
"We all know what's really happening," whispered Ana's grandmother. "The signs are clear as day. Petre Toma has become a strigoi."
The room got very quiet. Even the children stopped wiggling in their seats. Stefan, the young man who went to college in Bucharest, stood up. His modern jacket looked strange next to all the traditional clothes.
"Friends, neighbors, please listen," he said. "It's 2004! We can't just dig up a dead man because we're scared. There must be a normal explanation."
⚠️ Village Worries:
Many people getting sick
Animals acting strange
Bad dreams about Petre
Mysterious noises at night
Gardens dying in winter
"Normal?" Mrs. Popescu shouted. "Is it normal that my chickens lay eggs filled with blood? Is it normal that we all see the same dead man walking at night?"
The village priest, Father Mikhail, cleared his throat. He was new to the village and tried to be modern, but even he looked worried. "The church has... procedures for such matters. If the community believes there is a genuine threat..."
The old ways said a strigoi must be stopped before too many people died. But following the old ways could get them in big trouble with the police.
"What exactly happens in these... procedures?" Stefan asked carefully.
Old Ioan's voice was grave as he explained: "First, we must watch the grave at midnight. If we see signs, then we dig up the body. If the body shows marks of a strigoi, we must remove the heart and burn it with special herbs."
Some people gasped. Others nodded like they expected this. Little Ana held her mother's hand tighter.
"That's against the law!" Stefan protested. "We could all go to jail!"
But Mrs. Popescu stood up again. "And what about my daughter? Should I watch her waste away while we worry about modern laws?"
🌿 Traditional Signs of a Strigoi:
Fresh blood in the heart
Red face and plump body
Flexible limbs
Growing fingernails and hair
Open eyes
The arguing went on for hours. Modern thoughts fought with old fears. But as night fell and the wind howled outside, more people started agreeing with Old Ioan.
"We'll need special tools," someone said.
"And holy water," added another.
"My grandmother's book has the ritual words," whispered a third.
Father Mikhail looked troubled but didn't stop them. Stefan kept arguing, but his voice got smaller and smaller.
Finally, Old Ioan raised his hands for quiet. "Tomorrow night, we will watch the grave. If we see the signs..." He didn't need to finish. Everyone knew what would happen next.
As the villagers left the meeting hall, they walked close together. No one wanted to be alone in the dark. The moon was almost full, casting sharp shadows on the snowy ground.
In her bed that night, little Ana asked her mother, "Are we really going to dig up Mr. Toma?"
Maria tucked the blanket tighter around her daughter. "Sometimes, child, we must do scary things to stop scarier things from happening."
Outside, the wind carried sounds that might have been footsteps, or might have been something else. The village of Marotinu de Sus held its breath, waiting for tomorrow night.Dark of Night
The moon hung like a silver coin over Marotinu de Sus. Forty villagers huddled near Petre Toma's grave, their flashlight beams dancing on the frost-covered ground. 🌕
"Remember," Old Ioan whispered, "no loud noises. We don't want to wake the dead... or the police." His breath made little clouds in the cold air.
"First, we must check for signs," Father Mikhail said, holding his prayer book tight. "Does anyone see fresh dirt? Strange lights? Animal tracks?"
Mrs. Popescu pointed with a shaking finger. "Look there! The ground is disturbed, but no animal made those marks." 😨
🚫 Warning Signs Found:
Strange marks in the soil
Dead flowers on nearby graves
Weird shadows in moonlight
Cold spots around the tomb
Dogs howling far away
Stefan stood back, his modern jacket zipped up tight. "This is crazy! We could all go to jail for this!"
"Quiet!" hissed Ana's grandmother. She sprinkled holy water in a circle around the grave. "The old ways must be followed exactly."
Four strong men stepped forward with shovels. They looked scared but ready. The dirt made soft scraping sounds as they began to dig.
Time seemed to move like honey dripping from a spoon. The hole got deeper and deeper. Nobody spoke above a whisper.
"I hear something!" little Ana squeaked. Everyone froze.
*thunk*
A shovel had hit wood. The coffin.
"Now comes the hard part," Old Ioan said. He pulled out a bag of special tools: wooden stakes, red string, and herbs that smelled like grandmother's garden.
📝 The Traditional Tools:
"Each thing has its purpose," Old Ioan explained. "The stakes hold down evil. The string ties up dark magic. The herbs clean the air of bad spirits."
Father Mikhail began to pray in a low voice. Some villagers joined in. Others just held hands and trembled.
The men cleaned dirt from the coffin lid. It looked newer than it should, like it had been opened before.
"Wait!" Stefan called out. "Please think about what you're doing!"
But Mrs. Popescu stepped forward. "My daughter is dying. We must know the truth."
Old Ioan nodded to the men. "Open it."
The sound of creaking wood filled the graveyard. Flashlight beams pointed down into the open coffin. Someone screamed.
Petre Toma's face was not the gray color of the dead. It was pink, like he was just sleeping. His hair and nails had grown. There was fresh blood around his mouth.
⚠️ What They Saw:
"These are all the signs," Old Ioan said grimly. "He has become a strigoi, just as we feared."
Even Stefan stopped arguing. He stared into the grave with wide eyes.
"Quick now," Ana's grandmother said. "We must finish before midnight!"
The villagers moved faster, setting up candles and spreading herbs. Father Mikhail's prayers got louder. The wind picked up, making the flames dance.
"Form the circle," Old Ioan commanded. "Hold hands. Whatever happens next, don't break the circle!"
Little Ana squeezed between her mother and grandmother. "Will this stop the bad dreams?" she whispered.
"Yes, dear one," her grandmother answered. "But first, we must be brave."
The ritual was about to begin. Overhead, clouds started covering the moon, as if even the sky knew something big was about to happen in the little village of Marotinu de Sus.The Midnight Hour
The clouds parted just enough to show the full moon hanging over Petre Toma's open grave. Old Ioan lifted his wooden stake high. 🌕
"Hold the circle tight!" he shouted. "The time has come!"
"We break no laws tonight," a new voice boomed. Flashlight beams swung toward Police Officer Dragos, standing at the cemetery gate. "Step away from the grave!" 👮
Panic broke out among the villagers. Some ran into the shadows. Others stood their ground, holding their crosses tight.
"My daughter needs this!" Mrs. Popescu cried. "She gets weaker every day!"
🚨 The Scene at Midnight:
40 scared villagers
2 police officers
1 open grave
Many wooden stakes
Lots of frightened tears
"Look!" little Ana pointed at the coffin. "Something's moving!"
Officer Dragos stepped closer, his flashlight beam showing fresh blood drops on the coffin lid. His hand shook slightly.
The wind picked up, carrying the smell of wet earth and something else - something old and wrong that made everyone's skin crawl.
"Please," Old Ioan said to the officer. "You grew up here. You know the old stories. Look at his face - see how it's changed!"
Officer Dragos peered into the grave. His face went white. "Mother of God..."
📝 The Changes:
"His skin is pink, not gray like the dead should be," Ana's grandmother explained. "His nails have grown. There's fresh blood on his lips. These are the signs!"
A reporter's camera flashed from behind a tree. More lights appeared as news vans pulled up to the cemetery.
"The...
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