The village of Korva was small and unassuming, surrounded by thick woods that whispered in the wind. Elias arrived with a tattered cloak and wild eyes, proclaiming himself the hand of God. He spoke of demons hiding among the villagers, wearing human skin, sowing discord and corruption. Most dismissed him as a madman, but his fervor was infectious—to some, even convincing.
The first killing shocked the village. Margit, the baker's wife, was found dead in the market square, her body mutilated with symbols Elias claimed were holy. He didn't flee. Instead, he stood over her body, praying loudly as villagers gathered, horrified.
"She was no woman," Elias proclaimed. "She was a demon sent to poison your souls. The Lord revealed her to me."
The constables arrested him, but Elias escaped before he could be brought to trial. That was when the pattern began.
Elias moved through the village like a ghost. He struck in the dead of night, accusing his victims of harboring evil. A shepherd, a midwife, even a child. No one was safe from his righteous fury.
Each murder left the village more fractured. Some denounced Elias as a lunatic and a murderer, while others whispered that he might be telling the truth. After all, hadn't strange things happened in Korva before his arrival? Livestock dying without cause, crops failing, shadows seen in the woods? The constables hunted him relentlessly, but Elias always seemed one step ahead, vanishing into the forest after each attack.
One day, Elias returned to the village openly. His appearance was more haggard than ever, his eyes sunken and wild. He held a bloodstained knife in one hand and a parchment scrawled with strange symbols in the other.
"The final demon hides among you," he announced in the town square, his voice hoarse but resolute. "I will finish God's work tonight."
Before the constables could apprehend him, he disappeared once more into the woods. The villagers, terrified and divided, locked their doors and windows that night. But Elias was not deterred.
In the dark hours before dawn, the constables found Elias in a clearing deep in the woods. He was standing over the body of a young woman, his knife still wet with blood. Her face was peaceful, almost serene, even in death.
"It is done," Elias said, dropping to his knees. "The last of them is gone."
The constables didn't listen to his ravings. They dragged him back to the village, where he was tried and condemned. No one mourned Elias when the gallows took him, though a few wondered if they'd made a mistake. Those doubts were buried with him.
Weeks passed, and the village began to heal. The deaths stopped, the livestock thrived, and the crops grew strong. But then, strange things began to happen.
One night, a farmer's wife awoke to see her husband standing at the edge of the bed, his eyes glowing faintly red. Another villager claimed to hear whispers from the woods, voices that spoke in tongues. A constable found claw marks on his door, too deep to have come from any animal.
Finally, a group of villagers, desperate for answers, dug up the young woman Elias had killed. They peeled back the shroud and froze. Her face was no longer serene. Her mouth had twisted into a snarl, and her eyes—though closed—seemed to glimmer faintly in the moonlight.
Clutched in her hand was a scrap of parchment covered in the same symbols Elias had carried. The village elder, who had dismissed Elias as insane, recognized the markings immediately: wards of banishment. Holy symbols meant to repel evil.
Elias had been right all along.
But as the villagers turned to leave, one of them stumbled on a pile of discarded tools nearby—rusty knives and makeshift chisels bearing the same symbols. They found a journal buried beneath them, scrawled in Elias's frenzied handwriting. It spoke of visions, but also of voices that tormented him, urging him to see evil where none existed.
"I must obey," one entry read. "Even if it's all in my head. Even if it's not real."
As the villagers pieced together the journal's contents, a chilling realization took hold. The "demons" Elias had killed had shown no signs of corruption until after their deaths. The glowing eyes, the twisted faces, the whispers in the woods—it all started after Elias began his crusade.
Had Elias been chosen by God, or had he created the evil he sought to destroy?
The following night, screams echoed through Korva. One by one, the villagers disappeared, their homes left in disarray, their blood marking the walls. And deep in the woods, something ancient and malevolent stirred, finally free.