The Haunting March

It was almost evening now, the sun sinking past the horizon and bathing everything in a deep orange hue. Erel and Lyra had just reached the church, where the main celebrations were held, after spending hours touring the entire village, making sure they didn’t miss a thing.
The village was much bigger than Erel had expected, with almost a thousand people living here. Yet somehow, the whole community managed to find a common understanding that today was not only a holy day on their calendar, but also the day they could finally celebrate, thanks to the Piper dealing with the rat infestation.
The church sat atop a small hill, overlooking the village like a watchful guardian. It was a monument unlike anything Erel had ever seen, ancient, built from ashen red bricks, stacked high to form an imposing structure. Its roof ended in a sharp triangle, covered with a distinct black, slanting shed, and from this rose a separate tower, housing a large clock at its centre, a silent witness to all that happened below.
Villagers milled outside, engaged in mindless chatter, while the delicate sound of choir music drifted out from within the church, mingling with the evening air. Erel felt strangely at ease, almost lulled by the gentle harmony. Lyra, standing beside him, seemed content as well, quietly enjoying the choir as they waited for the mayor to appear since he was supposed to address everyone before nightfall, or so the villagers had said.
Erel noticed the crowd outside finally filing into the church, joining those already inside, humming along to the choir and bowing their heads in prayer.
“Looks like it’s starting,” Lyra murmured, just as the choir’s song died down, replaced by whispers and shuffling as people entered the church.
Inside, the church was exactly as Erel imagined: high, slanting roofs with ornate ceilings; coloured walls reflecting the last of the sun in shimmering shades; wooden floors that creaked beneath their feet; rows of worn benches lining the hall. At the far end, a raised platform was crowded with offerings, and above it all, a huge cross hung on the wall, overseeing everyone present.
They found an empty seat at the back and sat, their eyes scanning the hall for the mayor. Soon, an old man in a pompous white top and crisp black pants appeared at the front. His skin was deeply wrinkled, but he wore a comfortable smile. Despite his hunched figure, the moment he stepped forward, every whisper faded, everyone turned to watch him, small smiles lining their faces.
He looked over the gathering with kind eyes and spoke in a gruff voice, heavy with age and authority. “My dear people… Today, we gather not only to celebrate the ascension of two servants of God, but also to rejoice; the curse that has plagued us for years has finally been lifted.”
Even though his voice was low, it seemed to echo through the church, touching every corner.
“God has found it in his heart to forgive our vices, and He has driven the cursed rats away.” At his pause, a wave of cheers and applause broke out from the villagers, filling the old building with warmth and hope.
“Now our village is once again on the path to prosperity. With no curses, we shall rise again, to live lives of sustenance, happiness, and peace.” The old man’s voice reached a crescendo as he finished, stepping aside while the crowd erupted in celebration.
“We need to go, he’s leaving,” Lyra whispered, her eyes following the mayor, who was now making his way out of the church, accompanied by two others. The excitement of the gathering faded behind them as he disappeared through the exit.
They slipped through the crowd, dodging villagers and making their way outside. The evening was already growing darker, the last rays of sun slipping away beyond the hills.
“There! Come on, hurry,” Lyra urged, motioning to the three figures moving quickly down a path leading toward the distant forest.
“Wait, why are they going into the forest?” Erel asked, frowning in confusion as he kept pace behind Lyra, who was already moving with purpose.
“Who knows… Stay low, we can’t be spotted,” she whispered, crouching behind a swath of trees. The trio was just a few meters ahead, their steps crunching on dead branches.
The area was deserted now, nothing but the sound of hurried footsteps and the faint rustling of leaves. The forest glowed with a strange orange light, the last sunlight filtering through heavy, tangled branches. It was eerily still, the silence unnerving.
Lyra suddenly held up her arm, signalling for Erel to stop. Peering over a bush, Erel spotted the three men standing in a small clearing. The old man, the mayor, was glaring at the two others, anger written plainly across his face.
“What do you want? Is it the Piper again?” The old man’s voice was harsh, his previous friendly smile gone. “I told you not to seek me out in front of the villagers.”
“But si-sir, the Piper-”
“What? Spit it out.”
The man looked terrified, stammering before he managed to continue. “Sir, he’s asking for payment, he’s… he’s quite insistent-”
“I don’t care! I told you to tell him to fuck off. Why the hell should we pay when he was the one who led them in the first place?”
‘Damn, talk about being two-faced,’ Erel thought, remembering the mayor’s smile from earlier-now replaced by a deep scowl.
“But si—”
“Shut up and do what I tell you. Understand?”
“Y-yes…” The man muttered, bowing his head in apology.
Knowing there was nothing more to the conversation, Lyra began to turn before they could have been spotted.
“Come on, let’s go,” Lyra whispered, tugging on Erel’s sleeve and leading him back through the trees toward the village.
As they returned, leaving the trio still arguing in the woods, they saw the villagers slowly retreating to their homes after the long day of celebrations. Most looked exhausted, a few drunk, as they trudged down the hill. The festival’s energy had faded, replaced by a heavy quiet.
‘Not much time now.’
“So, what’s the plan?” Erel asked as they finally reached the edge of town. The sun had all but disappeared, the village barely lit by scattered fire lamps, their glow patchy and uncertain.
“First, we observe. We still don’t know which direction he’ll lead the children,” Lyra replied, her voice low.
“What about the three children?”
Lyra gave him a quiet smile. “Trust the narrative. They’ll come to us.”
“For now, let’s split up to cover more ground. I’ll go north, you go south.” She extended her palm, and a deep black obsidian crow formed from the shadows, its scales glistening.
“She’ll let me observe elsewhere,” Lyra murmured, sending the crow into the air. Strangely, its wings made no sound as it vanished into the night.
“Also, here, keep this feather with you.” She pressed a pitch-black obsidian feather into Erel’s hand. “Crush it if you see him. If it heats up, it means I’ve made contact.”
“Alright,” Erel said, tucking the feather into his inner coat pocket.
Before he could say anything else, Lyra was gone, melting into the darkness. The main village entrance through the marketplace was to the south, the area she’d told Erel to cover. Now, the village was completely dark, not a footstep to be heard. The adults were already asleep, and the silence pressed in from all sides, almost suffocating.
Erel climbed onto the roof of a house, nestling himself between the chimney stones. From here, he could see the entirety of the southern end of the village, including the main gate. He settled in, enveloped in the deep silence, his right-hand hovering over the serpent coiled around his neck, waiting for any sign of disturbance.
But the disturbance never came, not at first. Instead, what drifted through the night was the sound of a haunting nocturne, pouring from a flute, its melody seeping through every corner of the village. Every note was crystal clear, the music so vivid it felt as if the player was standing right beside him. The sound seemed to echo from every direction at once, impossible to pin down.
The melody was chilling, as if played for the devil himself, unearthly, full of strange frills and deep lows. It spread, house by house, until the whole village was saturated with its spell.
‘He’s here, but where?’
Erel scanned the darkness, searching for the source, but the music was everywhere and nowhere. It played tricks on his senses, making it impossible to tell where the Piper truly was.
‘The children…’
The sight was so sudden, so unreal, that for a moment Erel wondered if he was hallucinating. Hordes of children were walking toward the village exit, moving aimlessly, as if the life had been drained from them. Their legs dragged behind them, each step slow and desperate, as if they were puppets tugged along invisible strings. Most unsettling of all were their faces, empty, glassy-eyed, no emotion, no spark at all.
Snapping out of his trance, Erel yanked the feather from his pocket and crushed it in his fist.
‘But the Piper, where the hell is he?’
No matter which way he looked, the music kept him guessing, the Piper’s location hidden in the darkness. Erel leapt from rooftop to rooftop, following the horde. The children moved forward, oblivious to everything, unbothered by any disturbance.
‘The parents… they’re probably meant to sleep through it, locked in the narrative. Never meant to wake up tonight, no matter what happens,’ Erel thought, piecing it together as he moved.
The children were almost at the gates when Lyra appeared beside him, materialising from a patch of darkness.
“Do you see him?” she whispered, eyes wide as she took in the abnormal procession of children.
“No. There’s no sign of the Piper anywhere.”
Lyra closed her eyes, seeing through her raven’s eyes as it soared above the village, searching for any trace of the Piper. But there was nothing, no shadow, no figure, nothing at all.
“What about the villagers?” Erel asked, worry creeping into his voice.
“It’s useless. They won’t wake up, no matter what. I tried,” she replied quietly.
‘The parents, they are probably meant to sleep throughout, locked in the narrative, never meant to wake up tonight, no matter how much disturbance there is,’ Erel thought again, frustration building.
“What about the blind girl? She can help us find him,” Erel said urgently, scanning the horde for her, but she was nowhere to be seen.
That’s when he heard footsteps, small and soft, along with the sound of someone crying in the street below. Following the sound, he spotted the three children they’d met before, huddled together. The deaf boy was leading the blind girl by the hand, guiding her forward, while the so-called dumb boy followed behind, his steps uncharacteristically steady, though his eyes still darted wildly.
“What the hell are they doing?” Erel muttered, baffled. All three seemed to be untouched by the Piper’s music. Lyra seemed to be staring at them intently, lost in her thoughts, before the realisation finally dawned upon her.
“I see, the blind girl is affected by the music, but since she can’t see, she’s not able to follow wherever it’s guiding the others. The music is controlling them, making them walk somewhere, not just follow a sound,” Lyra said, her tone thoughtful.
“And the deaf boy can’t hear the music at all. The dumb one… maybe he just can’t understand it enough for it to control him.”
“Right,” Lyra said, a small, satisfied smile flickering at her lips.
“For now, let’s meet them and follow where they go.”
They nodded at each other before slipping down to join the children below.
The children, led by the haunting melody, continued to walk away from the village, the tune showing no sign of stopping, as the darkness closed in around them.

Chapter end