The power lines were probably been cut by the storm as I had no light and no working phone. Thus, I could not inform the police unless I would drive to the station but that would be a bad idea in the still raging snowstorm. Ronald, who kept sure the cows were alright, would not come in this weather either, I guessed. And even if he did, the distance between the animal shelter and the house was too much in the storm for me to walk, especially with my bad ankle. I went outside and sat in the rocking chair on the porch. I wrapped the woolen quilt around me like I had done every morning after girls’ disappearance. The storm did not welcome me. It was snowing hard, right upon my face, and the wind was swirling around the fields creating little snow tornadoes. In the horizon, the cows were still standing. I was baffled as to why they would not seek shelter.
I could not sit there for long since the temperature was heavily on the minus. So I went back inside and paced through the house desperately. I did not want to spend another night in that house but more and more I thought about my other options, I realized I did not have any. The clock rushed forward and it was soon getting dark again. I locked the doors, got some dry wood from the shed and nailed boards on the windows. No one could get in. Then I took my father’s old rifle and sat on the rococo couch, waiting. I lit a fire in the fireplace and put oil lamps and candles in every room of the house.
Finally, the night fell upon me, the dark silence was broken only by the soft and soothing flames surrounding me. I was getting real sleepy and eventually I gave up, falling into a deep sleep filled with nightmarish dark figures that always turned their backs to me before I could see their faces.
I woke up from the nightmare in panic, grabbing the rifle into my hands. I was expecting to see someone standing in front of me but I was alone. It was dead silent. I sighed in relief and brushed my gray, tangled hair with my fingers. Then my eyes met the table top on my left and I noticed something odd. There was a tiny, folded paper on it, that I did not remember being there before. I took the paper and unfolded it. I felt how the blood rushed back in to my head and I was wide awake. The note said:
Take care of Krissy.
“So, it was Krissy in the cradle...” I mumbled in a quiet voice to myself.
Krissy had been named after Kristen. She was born underdeveloped. Her mother did not care for her so we had to bottle feed the calf. Regardless of our efforts, Krissy had not made it through the first night of her life. This was over a year ago, though, and my mother, Ruth, along with our neighbor, Ben, had buried the poor baby cow. That meant that the dead calf in our bedroom could not be Krissy, unless she was never buried in the first place. But the body must had been stored in a freezer for it to last this long. I got shivers down my spine thinking someone would be insane enough to do something like that.
Moreover, who would have been able to come into the house to bring the note after I had locked the doors and boarded the windows? Someone who new about Krissy and had a key? But it could not be my mom as she had died of a heart attack several months ago. It could not be our neighbor either, as he had moved away almost a year ago. And Ben did not have a key to our house. Could Ben had come back, though? To be honest, more I thought about it, more it made sense as Kristen had told me that Ben had confessed his feelings to her. To add more to my suspicion, I remembered that I had loaned my key to Ben once when he was watering our plants while we were on vacation. He could have made a duplicate of it. He left a year ago, approximately at the same time I started seeing the figure on our land. Was the figure Ben? Perhaps. But why would he do this? Had he wanted to make me seem crazy so Kristen would leave me? What about our girls, what had he done to them?
There was one more possible explanation… No, it could not be, I thought and shook my head.I remembered how Kristen had wept for the tiny calf who did not make it. She had really loved that baby cow. Tears ran on to my face. I missed her so. Her long, platinum blond hair and the smell of her skin. Her elegance. She was tall and skinny, always wore beautiful, designer dresses and walked so silently and effortlessly even in high heels. I missed her smile and the way she always made everybody feel comfortable.
Yet another morning came. I went outside just to see that the storm had finally passed. Huge branches of a Rowan tree carried an enormous amount of pure white snow glistening in the morning sun. There was so much snow everywhere! The air felt fresh. I could see the silhouettes of the cows in the horizon again. What were they doing outside when there was so much snow! Had Ronald been taking care of the animals during these past few days? He was supposed to but I guessed that maybe he could not have visited them during the storm. However, Ron rarely came to the house, I saw him once a week if I was lucky. Could Ron had sent me the note? Could he be going around scaring me? He certainly could have gotten his hands on a dead calf and he did have a spare key to the house. My head hurt.
Yet again, another thought pushed its way into my mind. Kristen’s mom… You see, she had been married four times and three of her husbands had died of a heart attack. All three times, she had gotten the insurance money. As his fourth husband fell ill, however, it peaked the interest of the local police, who started investigating. They believed, she had poisoned her husbands but before the case was solved, she went missing. It was just a curious thought, but I kept wondering, could she be still living nearby and maybe having something to do with her grandchildren’s disappearance? It was a rather weird coincidence that Kristen’s mom and now our daughters had all gone missing. Although, Kristen’s mom had disappeared when Kristen had been only thirteen years old. It was a long time ago.
The cows in the horizon were ever so still. The whole scene seemed unnaturally unmoving. For some reason, I started making my way towards the animals. Moving forward in the thick snow was painstakingly slow but I had to see the cows. My instinct was telling me so.
After a while, I started to close on the cows. My bad ankle hurt but I did not mind. The animals were right there but then I saw that they were no cows at all but snowy piles of different sized rocks so that it looked from a far like figures. I stared at the nearby shelter that seemed empty. Where were all the cows then? Suddenly, I heard something.
“They can’t see”, a raspy but somewhat familiar voice hissed at me. I raised my head and then I saw someone standing right in front of me, approximately hundred meters away. But it could not be… I thought. It was a tall, sickly-looking man dressed in black clothes and a black jacket, with long, gray, tangled up hair hanging on the face. He was limping his right leg. The hair was too long, the figure so feeble but he had a familiar face. It was me.
He was standing in front of me, hunched over, like he did not want me to quite see his face but it was surely me. How could I be there if I was right here. It felt surreal, terrifying. I stared at myself and he stared back.
Then the figure turned around and started running.
“Wait! Hey you, stop right there!” I yelled but he disappeared in to the forest. I ran after him but I stopped before the tree line. The forest looked cold and eerie. I did not want to follow him there.
I turned around and walked back to the rock piles. I wiped the snow off one big rock and sat on it. It felt cold even through my winter trousers. I lifted my right leg and tried to give it a little rest before heading back. I stared at the clear sky, into its whiteness. The snow around me shined as if thousands of diamonds were embedded in it. The sunlight came behind the forest trees. I heard an owl. So, it was me after all, I thought. Kristen had been right, I was going insane. I sighed. Then I noticed something peeking through the snow. I hopped down and started digging. My hands started shaking and I was horrified when I realized what I was digging up. The cows were buried under the snow, between the rocks. They were covered in dry blood and mutilated. I felt an urge to throw up and had to take a break but kept digging after that. I had to know and indeed: all of the animals, eleven of them, were missing their eyes. I stumbled back and stared at the barbaric scene. I felt my vision blur as my head span around. They can’t see.
I finally got back in to the house and calmed down enough to think. I went into the kitchen breathing heavily and trying to fight the tears. I grabbed the car keys and pulled a baby-blue jacket over my shoulders. The figure had been wearing my old, long and black jacket I had kept in the closet. I checked and so it was: that jacket was not in the closet anymore. He had definitely been wearing my jacket and not just a similar one. Was it really me? How could it? I did not believe in paranormal but I found myself doubtful for the first time. I headed outside.
It was snowing gently. I heard an owl crying over the fields. I was climbing in to the car when I noticed that the tires were flat, all four of them.
I went back in to the house and paced through it helplessly. I could not walk to the town, it was too far away. I started crying again. I went into the library and sat on the couch. Minutes passed by, hours. I was completely paralyzed.
The night fell but I could not sleep. I was writing down everything weird that had happened these past few days and tried to piece together how I could have done all that. I felt completely out of my mind. A glass of steaming mulled wine lay on the table in front of me with some rye bread filled with prawns next to it. But I felt neither hunger nor thirst. Then, I was surprised when the phone suddenly rang.
“It’s working again? Oh my...” I mumbled and crabbed the receiver in a hurry.
“Yes?” I spoke to it.
“I know what you did”, a raspy whisper told me. It was the same voice again. It sounded distorted but familiar. Was that my voice?
“What do you mean?” I answered hesitatingly.
“All the cows are dead, they tumble over the bodies”, the voice whimpered.
“Who is this?”
“I know you killed your daughters. I saw you burying them in the field where the cows graze. Poor babies... GET OUT OF THE HOUSE!” The voice grew hideous and loud, screaming at me. I was completely frozen.
“Yes. I know. I saw. I was there. You killed Kate and you killed the baby. The cows they can’t see without their eyes, a mother can’t see, she must not. GET OUT OF THERE YOU MURDERER!”
I slammed the receiver down. I could not breathe, I was trembling. Who was calling me? Did I really do all that? I had no recollection of any of that. Oh my dear God.
I cried vigorously, shaking and whining to myself. The phone rang again. I did not want to answer but something made me do just so.
“I’m sorry. Go see the girls for me, please. I can’t… Where are my girls…?” The voice sounded weird and soft this time as if the speaker was crying.
“Where are the girls? Please, tell me they’re alright… Please, tell me who you are?” I begged.
“The cows, they can’t see. The girls are buried under them. You buried my girls...”
“I don’t understand… Please...” I answered crying.
“GET OUT! WHY WOULD YOU MURDER YOUR OWN CHILDREN!” The voice screamed. I dropped the receiver.
I ran all the way to where the cows were. The ground was frozen but I kept digging with a sturdy, although rusty shovel. I kept hitting the ground with all I got, screaming in agony, crying. Had I really gone mad, killed my daughters, buried them? I whimpered helplessly and wiped the tears off my face. My cheeks were getting frostbites on them but I did not care. I spent the whole night digging. I found nothing.
But then… A bone. A human bone.
“What have I done…?” I cried in pain. Then I saw him. I saw myself standing right in front of me. The figure was tall but not hunched over anymore. It had hair like mine but too long. The face was mine but it was not alive. Just a rubbery mask.
“The cows, they can’t see...” The figure whispered. And I recognized the voice this time, I recognized the eyes.
“A mother can’t see...” I answered to her in a soft voice.
The figure was imitating my walk, wearing my clothes and my face but it was familiar in another way. She removed the mask and I saw her real face: Kristen.
“I didn’t do it, I did not… It was mom and it was you...” She whimpered in a high-pitched, child-like voice. I dropped to my knees.
In the first hour of the morning I heard an owl. The police informed me that there were three bodies: both of my girls’ and one of Kristen’s mother’s.
