Part - 1
Hallstatt was probably one of the most peaceful areas to live in anywhere of Colmar province.(I mean literally, it was as easy as gatecrashing your ex's wedding without being questioned.)The neighbourhood were always jovial. The king of Colmar, unquestionably was one of the most generous kings in about a blue moon. The fields never went dry and always provided surplus. People never knew what hostility was and it was all like a big family. However, that was it - Colmar consisted of about four provinces - Hallstatt, Duskvale, Somaris and Bleakridge. The other three were more or less deserted, with barren fields and almost empty villages. Even the king had lost hope of rebuilding those villages. It seemed those villages were still suffering from the effects of the Great War that took place between King Henry of Colmar and the Duke of Rosewald, around twenty years ago. All four villages suffered massive losses but miraculously, it was only Hallstatt that regained its prosperity. However, life still existed in the deserted lands, consisting of few families who probably had already lost hope in life and were living their days out. The king would often send reinforcements and supplies to the villages in hope of reinstating their former glory days. But there would always be some or the other unfortunate event that would prevent the king's dream from becoming a reality. Surprisingly though, the few remnants would always receive the supplies (and in case you're wondering if they were behind all of this, lemme tell you that even a lunatic would understand what's good for him). The soldiers would often return with one arm or one leg or even better, one person missing. The last time they could only salvage their missing comrade's left index finger, buried deep into the left eye socket of his head, the rest of the body:gone. Thankfully they didn't bring those remains to Hallstatt or else the king would have probably puked on them. But the king never did stop sending reinforcements, although as time progressed, the soldiers would keep the supplies at the border of the cursed lands, only to find them disappear the next time they visited.
Such was life in the province of Colmar. The Augustines were one such family who were really well-known among their neighbours and never really had the chance to complain about anything in life. The only thing they lacked was a successor - what it was like to be parents. But as luck would prevail, they were to be blessed with a baby boy on the coming fall.
It seemed the neighbours were more happy that John and Trina Augustine when the day arrived. Celebrations ravaged the entire day. After all, Hallstatt was based on the ideals of bonding and care. Even King Henry came to bless the baby boy. And oh my lord, it seemed the boy was a straight-up reincarnation of an angel. His laughs and cries filled the barracks and walls of the Augustines' house. Blessings poured in round the day. Slowly, time came for the people to return back to their daily duties. But for the angel, it was just the start of his life. He had so much to explore, starting from his father's cowsheds to his mother's wardrobe, to the Hallstatt neighbours, and even the palace stables. It was just the life he would have hoped for and would ever be thankful to God's; "I always wanted this kind of life. Thank you, O Almighty!"
Part - 2
Years went by as Marco grew up to be a handsome young boy who was adorned by the entirety of Hallstatt. People could recognize him from that melodious voice of his. As anyone would guess, he never felt the need for anything in his life. Early to bed, early to rise was his go-to routine. He would often help his father tending to the plantations or looking after the cows. His afternoon meal would often be followed by engaging in various mischiefs with his friends, or even catching fish from the nearby pond. However, he was often warned by his mother to not venture too much into the outskirts of Hallstatt, even if his friends pursuaded him to. He never got any suitable answer for this tho, and most of the people whom he asked would just avoid his question. As a child's mind would be, he never gave it much importance because of the numerous other things he still had to learn. Marco, unlike his father, was more of a books' guy and was more interested in History and Geography than using a sickle or milk extraction. He would often borrow books from the public library, which was actually built in honour of the king's great grandfather, Lord Geoffrey who was one of the most renowned scholars of his time. Marco never liked the idea of being confined within a routine, he was always keen on doing something different despite the results. He was once told by his friend Francis that fishes residing in the pond would never be able to survive in toilet water. Well, when John found that a 20cm cod was swimming in their toilet, Marco wasn't seen the entire day near their house. That night though, Trina did cook a spicy cod dish(and no, it's not what you think it is)to celebrate Marco's return...poor boy!
As years passed, Marco's interest in history grew. He would often spend countless hours with his father, talking about the history of Hallstatt and about the Great War two decades ago. Marco's grandfather Arthur worked in the infirmary in the war, but fell prey to the the Duke's army. He even found a reference to Arthur in one of the books from the library, however he couldn't find an image of his grandfather. Marco also tried asking his father about the other three villages, but was unable to elicit anything interesting. All such sneaky behaviour would often make him anxious and also thought about sneaking out. But the people would never allow him, and specially his mother, who was even more strict that his father in such matters.
One of Marco's close friends, Julien, was probably the only child who was more intrigued about such tight restrictions on Duskvale, Somaris and Bleakridge. Both of them had often planned to visit Bleakridge since it was the closest to Hallstatt, but never got the opportunity. Lately though, even Marco had given up hope of sneaking to Bleakridge, unlike Julien. He wasn't as known as Marco and probably in the back of his mind had always thought he could use this to his advantage. It was the rainy season and crops the fields were always full of crops. Julien knew this was his opportunity. He had always wanted to know what could have been the reason that even the elderly people were not allowed to speak, or rather, were afraid to speak of. He hadn't informed Marco about it because he knew otherwise, his plan would fail. His time to shine had come.
Part - 3
Julien hadn't thought about one crucial aspect, the paddy fields would have traces of his footprints. He would have to travel in the extreme dark. Fortunately, that day arrived soon. The day of the new moon that came on the second week of the monsoon season probably beckoned to Julien to put his plan into action.
He was barely able to scrape some rags, but that was enough. Being short statured, Julien did not have any difficulty in sneaking past the borderline of Hallstatt. The fact that even the torches were out further compounded to his assistance. And as it would have been, he soon lost his way after Hallstatt but that wasn't of any concern to him. Julien knew he only had to remember the way back to Hallstatt and would have to be back by sunset. As he set off for the deserted lands, the people of Hallstatt were in deep slumber.
As time went by, Julien did not find anything interesting nor did he come across any of the residents. He knew it was time to go back lest the king himself might come to search for him. He already had made a trail with pebbles and stones to mark the way back to Hallstatt(he learned this trick from Marco) and very quickly, picked up his trail, quickly and quietly descending into the darkness.
One month went by, Hallstatt was without Julien. His parents had fallen ill of crying for their only son, who, was already considered dead by many of the neighbours. The king's search party had failed miserably on both the occassions. King Henry decided himself to pay a visit to Julien's house. The house was in a disarray, the walls reeked of mold, the beds dirty; the sunshine had vanished from their house. No matter how much anyone tried, nothing would make his parents feel better.
As the king was about to arrive, suddenly Marco came rushing into Julien's house with the news that he had found almost all the fishes of his pond dead. John helped him clear the pond with a net, but that wasn't what he was there for. Marco had found five different shaped boxes floating in the center of the pond, which looked like they probably belonged to Geoffrey's grandfather. Upon seeing the king, he decided not to take matters into his own hands. Five soldiers were instructed immediately to retrieve the boxes and open them in front of the public. It wasn't easy to do tho, the boxes probably had ultra-adhesive attached to the lid. They even tried burning the boxes, but they were n't even charred. Just when the king was about to dispose of the boxes, Marco had an idea. Since he was the one to first find them, he wanted to give it a shot.
The first and the heaviest box, the lid creaked open, revealing an object within that sent shivers down their spines. At first glance, it was a grotesque mass, a twisted form cloaked in grime and decay. A pair of sunken orbs, lifeless and glassy, stared blankly back at them. Ragged tufts of matted, greasy hair clung stubbornly to patches of mottled, pallid flesh. The surface was a landscape of filth, marred by the marks of neglect and time, with patches of dark, congealed substance clinging to it. A gaping, misshapen maw was frozen in a silent, eternal scream, its edges encrusted with dried, crusty residue. The whole sight was enough to turn their stomachs, a vision from a nightmare that should never have been unearthed.
The second and third boxes were opened, revealing something that made them recoil in disgust. Nestled inside was an elongated, pallid form in each of the boxes, covered in a thick layer of grime and filth. The once supple joints were now grotesquely swollen and stiff, clinging to the ends. Splotches of discolored skin stretched over the skeletal structure, interrupted by patches of greasy, matted residue. The whole display, a tableau of neglect and decay, was repulsive, evoking a visceral sense of dread and nausea.
The last two boxes,(probably Marco wouldn't have opened them unless the king would have instructed him) the contents inside elicited gasps of horror. What lay within were two elongated shapes in each, caked in filth and decay. The skin, mottled and ashen, was stretched taut over the bones, riddled with lesions and patches of dark, oily grime. Veins, stark and purplish, crisscrossed the surface, adding to the grotesque appearance. Each grotesque limb seemed locked in a perpetual state of rigor, a haunting remnant of what they once were. The sight was utterly revolting, a macabre relic that exuded an air of despair and decay.
That night, the entire village did not sleep properly. They knew Hallstatt was going to be cursed soon enough. Their barrier would soon be breached. The crops would wither away. However, there was one guy who probably had the best night's sleep of his life: Juliene's body formed by arranging the boxes kept on the outskirts of Hallstatt, his tummy probably devoured by Bleakridge!