Natt’s Revenge
Loss and grief are but passageways to greater joy.
The wind howled through the dark pine forest, scattering snowflakes like ashes over the remote Björn family homestead. The year was 1812, deep in the isolated province of Västerbotten, Sweden.
Eight-year-old Karin sat perched on the rough wooden bench beside the barn door, bundled in her threadbare coat as best she could.Her slender frame radiated a warmth that defied the bitter cold, and her typically Björn green eyes reflected the moonlight that broke through the clouds above. Long golden braids framed her rose-cheeked face, which glowed like sunbeams in the darkness.
The moon above could only illuminate the bleakness of the frozen landscape; but Karin’s presence lent a radiant warmth and drove back the oppressive gloom. She was the glowing hearth of the Björn homestead and, people from all around said and felt, she was a beacon of spirit in the midwinter darkness.
Karin sighed. Her breath bloomed brightly before her like a flower unfolding its petals. She had swept the barn floors until the straw was neat, even sprinkled fresh hay for their three cows and small flock of chickens, and, of course, settled the goats in for the night.
All her chores were complete.
Now there was nothing for her delicate hands to do but twist her corn husk doll aimlessly and watch the snow.
She imagined shapes in the wind-born snowflakes: a wolf prowling between the pines, or a raven circling overhead. When she blinked, the visions vanished, leaving only the endless snow.
She looked down at the doll in her lap with its scratched face frowning up at her. It was her only friend out here, this misshapen thing crafted from leftover harvest leavings. It could not return her whispers, or see the world as she did, or share her restless dreams.
Karin longed for someone to explore the forest with her, trade secrets under the moonlight, and imagine an adventure that would take her far. Such fanciful thoughts were useless, her father would say.
Karin’s stomach rumbled; it was time for supper.
She slipped from her perch and trudged through the deepening snow toward the cottage, her doll clutched to her narrow chest for safety. The flickering candlelight from behind the fogged windows cast strange shadows that twisted into leering faces.
Of course, it was only her imagination conjuring life from the darkness. Mother always said spirits and demons lurked in the forest. Out here, it was easy to believe.
Karin glanced at the window above the door while shaking off the snow from her boots. An ornate glass sphere hung in the center. A Witch’s Ball that Mother claimed would ward off evil spirits. Karin thought it was the prettiest thing they owned, but she also found it unsettling for reasons she couldn’t yet explain. Tonight, it distorted the interior’s glow into a piercing eye that glared down at her.
She pushed open the heavy oak door and slipped into the fire-warmed home. Her doll joined the others lined on the mantle: a family of misshapen figures, each with their own names and personalities she’d conferred over the years.
Father sat carving a piece of wood into an ax handle by the light of the fire. He had the stern face and the solid build of someone who wrested survival from the land with his bare hands. His clothes, as the rest of him, smelled of earth and sweat.
Mother ladled a thin broth of potatoes and leeks into wooden bowls. She possessed a frail beauty that never faded completely with age, though worry had etched deep lines around her eyes and mouth. Her ashen hair, neatly plaited, cascaded down her back like Karin’s and flipped when she glanced up with a bright smile as Karin entered.
“You look half frozen! Warm yourself by the fire.”
Karin edged close to the fireplace and spread her pink hands to the warmth. The flames hissed as drips from the pot sizzled on the embers. Already the heat brought blood back to her little fingers, though it could not reach the cold that lodged within the cottage these days.
“Did you finish your chores? Why were you out so long?” Mother served the broth. “A young girl shouldn’t linger in the shadows.”
Karin shrugged. “Watching the snow.”
Mother shook her head but didn’t press further as they ate in silence save for the clinking of wood spoons against wood bowls.
When they finished their meal, Father gathered the bowls and went outside to scrub them clean with snow and bring in more wood to keep the fire going through the night.
“Time for bed, älskling,” Mother said firmly. She helped Karin change into her long woolen nightgown, unbraid her hair, and brush it out until it shone like strands of corn silk.
Then Karin settled into her worn straw mattress.
Mother brought Karin her favorite doll to cuddle with so its familiar lumpy form stayed close through the nigh. The scratched face smiled up at Karin.
Shadows flickered across Mother’s face as she folded her slender frame down beside Karin. A log collapsed in the hearth, sending a cascade of amber sparks swirling upwards. Mother’s eyes followed them, reflecting the firelight.
Then, softly at first, Mother began to sing.
Her voice was achingly beautiful. The haunting minor key notes of their song, Gå Söder, Måne, rose in the cabin, transporting mother and daughter back through generations with those who had lifted their voices in this same somber prayer.
Karin watched her mother’s face. She had heard the lullaby many times before; yet tonight, something had shifted. Mother sang from a deep, secret place of longing. Karin had never felt such urgency in her voice before.
Gå Söder, Måne
(Go South, Moon)Vandra med dem genom skuggornas land
(Wander with them through the land of shadows)Lys upp stigen hemåt
(Light up the path homeward)Var deras följeslagare genom mörkret
(Be their companion through the darkness)Led dem till trygghetens famn
(Lead them to the arms of safety)Var hoppets ljus när allt annat är förlorat
(Be the light of hope when all else is lost)Visa vägen ur nattens grepp
(Show the way from the grip of night)För dem tillbaka till mina armar
(Bring them back to my arms)
As her last notes faded into the air, Karin felt suspended in the silence. Mother turned her eyes to meet her daughter’s. Reaching out, she stroked Karin’s hair.
“Have only pleasant dreams tonight, mitt barn,” she whispered. “Do not go into the darkness where evil lurks.”
Karin settled deeper into her layers of wool blankets, breathing in their earthy scent that held her at peace. Beyond the frosted windowpane, the full moon danced through the breaks in the clouds.
She closed her eyes.
The wind continued its low moan through the pines like a ghostly lament. Somewhere a wolf cried out a lonely yet defiant howl.
The wolves sounded closer tonight. Karin imagined one of them padding up to the cottage with its fur white with fresh snow. It would gaze at her with intelligent eyes and together they would roam under the moonlight.
But that was only a foolish dream. Wolves were wild things. They would sooner tear out your throat than offer companionship.
Still, as Karin drifted into sleep, she couldn’t silence the voice that whispered maybe—just maybe—someone was out there roaming the same lonely darkness, longing for her as much as she ached for them.
The darkness pressed close outside, but it could not intrude upon this cherished space — her haven from the night.
Late morning sun streamed into the dusty barn and illuminated the swirling dust eddies that danced in the air like angels.
Karin sat in a pool of that light near the big barn door, her corn-husk doll on her lap.
“Let’s go on an adventure today,” she said to the doll in a high-pitched voice.
The doll’s scratched face smiled with reservation as Karin made it walk along the barn floor.
“We’re explorers searching for hidden treasure!”
She made the doll peer behind old tools and hay bales, exclaiming with gusto even when all that was found was a pile of golden straw.
Pausing her game, she glanced around the barn’s shadowy interior. She knew every corner, every nick in the rough wooden walls; it was a familiar, almost weary boredom.
Sighing, Karin absently stroked the doll’s rough hair. “I wish you were real.” The doll just smiled.
Karin made it nod and say in her high voice, “Me too! But we have each other for adventures!”
Slipping back into the game, Karin replied in her normal voice, “That’s right! But, what should we…?”
She paused.
A whimper. Weak. Pitiful.
Karin sat still, listening.
There it was again. Some animal was clearly up in the loft — not a chicken, but something…young.
Karin glanced at her doll. “Stay here; I shall return.”
Leaving the doll propped in the light, and its face scowling up at her, Karin tip-toed to the ladder and ascended rung by creaky rung. Reaching the top, she crawled forward into the hay, following the faint cries.
In a shadowy corner beneath a mound of hay, she discovered the source of the sound: a tiny black kitten.
Karin sat back on her heels.
Her mother’s voice screeched in her head: “Black cats are creatures of the Devil himself!” But the pathetic bundle looked so helpless with its matted fur, shining eyes, and crying meows.
Compassion swelled in her heart. She lifted the kitten, feeling its fragile body tremble.
“There. I’ll take care of you.”
She made her way to a secluded corner of the loft, carrying the wiggling kitten in her apron. She created a nest of rags and fetched a spot of milk from a cow. The kitten lapped it with a desperation that startled Karin.
Taking a rag, she dipped it in water and began dabbing at the crusted blood and dirt matting the kitten’s fur. It hissed and tried to squirm away at her touch. When it tried to crawl away, Karin panicked.
Then, from the depths of her memory, Gå Söder, Måne drifted into her consciousness — the lullaby her mother always sang to her before bed, and never failed to soothe her.
Without thinking, Karin hummed the tune. As the notes resonated through the musty air, she felt a power flow through her vocal cords. The kitten stilled, letting out a sigh as her voice washed over it like a soothing balm.
She repeated what she knew of the song, infusing the words with longing for this creature to be healed and stay by her side. Her voice was rough, then gained tonal clarity the longer she sang.
She had the sense that each note acted as a cleansing prayer that allowed light to banish the misery from this unwanted scrap of life. Verse followed verse until the kitten nestled in her skirt.
The ancient lullaby had always said to carry lost souls back to places of refuge. Karin now understood its power to return wounded hearts from the darkness into light. She sensed this little soul would be her guiding light in times ahead; and one day, his unwavering spirit might guide her own soul to safety in return.
When the final note died away, Karin gazed wide-eyed at her new friend. The magic had forged an undeniable bond between them. Its guiding protection belonged to them both now.
Over the next few days, Karin tended to her small charge, bringing scraps of ham and bread stolen from meals. Soon the kitten was nuzzling her hand and purring rustily. She named him Natt, the word for night and for his luxurious black coat.
Natt grew ever more curious—and rambunctious. One day, he nearly crossed paths with Father. Karin swept the kitten aside just in time. She knew then his hayloft bed was too exposed.
The root cellar would be the perfect hiding spot, she decided. Her parents rarely went down there until summer canning days. It was Karin’s responsibility to fetch goods for meals.
She brought an old lantern and made Natt a proper nest of straw in the darkest corner.
The earthen cellar became their secret world. Karin brought Natt brightly colored pebbles, bits of ribbon, anything she thought would bring him joy. As they played, she whispered stories to him, feeling happier than she could ever remember. The only time Karin felt free was in that dim, earthen space with her one loyal friend.
One morning Karin awoke feeling sick. She could barely rise from bed to dress; but she had to see Natt. The kitten sensed something wrong right away when he cuddled close and purred with more bravado than usual.
“I’ll be fine with some rest,” Karin said, trying to soothe Natt. She left extra food and water; but as Karin’s sickness worsened that day, dread consumed her.
Natt was helpless—he needed her.
Karin’s mother tended to her with hot broth that Karin struggled to swallow between fits of coughing. Her parents prayed over her every night. Karin only thought of Natt trapped and starving in the cellar just below, and she couldn’t do anything about it.
One night, her fever broke.
Gulping herbed water, her coughing eased. Before the sun rose, Karin descended the cellar stairs, her heart pounding with a sickly rhythm.
At the sight of the two gleaming green eyes emerging from the darkness, joy and relief flooded through her body. With the last of her strength, she crawled on hands and knees to Natt, collapsing beside him in a heap. She wept into his black fur. She tried to hum their special lullaby, but no sound came out. Seeming to sense the meaning behind her effort, he cuddled into her arms.
Over the next few days, Karin regained her strength. Her friend had given her the will to recover when death tried to call. She now understood the true meaning of devotion, and she vowed to never abandon Natt—no matter what.
The kitten was her light in the gloom. Just as the moon guided lost souls through the forest, this little soul guided her back from loneliness.
One sunny morning, as Karin hummed to the chickens while tidying the barn, her thoughts lingered on her secret friend.
Lost in daydreams, Karin forgot her mother’s request to fetch some roots for supper. Not wanting to disturb Karin’s rare contentment, her mother hesitated, then asked the father instead.
With a grumble, he descended the creaky wooden steps. Before his eyes adjusted to the dim light, he spotted two green eyes peering out from the shadows.
“What the devil?” He grabbed an ax leaning against the wall.
The black cat hissed and arched its back, fur standing on end. Father took a step forward. In a blur, the cat streaked past him and up the stairs.
Furious, Karin’s father marched up after it. The cat had run out of the cellar and was now cowering under the wagon.
“Come out of there, you hellish creature!”
At the commotion, Karin came running from the barn. When she saw her father stalking the wagon with his ax, her heart dropped.
“Father, no!” Karin wailed, grasping at his arm. “Natt is my only friend!”
Her father shook her off, face twisted in revulsion. “This wretched beast nearly stole you away with fever! Your mother prayed day and night while this devil waited eagerly to claim your soul!”
Karin spread her arms wide. “He’s just a poor little kitten I rescued, Father. He is not a demon!”
Mother came bustling outside, alerted by the shouting. “By God’s grace!?”
Father pointed with the ax. “This creature has been hiding right under our noses, stealing our food and bringing sickness to our home. I must destroy it!”
Natt trembled by the wheel and let out a plaintive mewl.
Mother placed a hand on her husband’s arm. “Hold now. To take the life of a witch’s familiar brings grave consequences.” She glanced towards the treeline. “Best we abandon it deep in the woods and let nature take its course. Naturally. No blame will befall us.”
Karin’s father hesitated, then lowered his ax with a grumble. “Very well.”
Crawling under the wagon, he grabbed Natt by the scruff and stuffed the struggling creature into a burlap sack. Karin sobbed and snatched at her father’s arm, but he shook her off.
“Please, father, I beg you!” Karin wailed as he trudged off toward the woods. “He’s all I have!”
Her father whipped around, face contorted in rage. “You have everything you need right here — your family! Not this devilish beast! We are all you require in this life, not unholy familiars and friends of Satan!”
With that, he stormed off toward the woods, carrying the squirming sack.
Karin crumpled to the ground, weeping as her mother patted her shoulder. Karin knew Natt could not survive long abandoned and alone in the wilderness. Despair flooded her heart, blotting out all light and hope.
That night, Karin knelt by the window and gazed up at the moon. Tears streamed down her cheeks as she sang softly:
“Gå Söder, Måne, vandra med dem genom skuggornas land…”
She pleaded into the icy night for the moon to light Natt’s way out of the shadows and guide him home. Her voice wavered with grief, but she clung to the fragile hope that somehow her prayer could work a miracle.
Karin hardly ate or slept over the next couple of days. She just went about her chores numbly. Her parent’s moods seemed to lift with the cat gone, but it consumed Karin not knowing Natt’s fate.
Then, on the third night, Karin heard a faint meowing outside. Her heart seized — could it be? She raced outside and saw two gleaming eyes in the barn doorway.
“Natt!” she breathed. The cat limped into her arms, filthy, ribs protruding, and one ear torn, but alive. Karin wept and held Natt close to her pounding heart.
She hurried to hide him once more in the root cellar before her parents discovered his return. She brought him food and attended to his wounds, murmuring prayers of thanks all the while.
After several days’ rest, Natt was back to nuzzling her fingers. The ordeal already seemed a distant nightmare in his little feline mind.
But late one afternoon, Karin’s mother descended to the cellar and let out a scream that could wake the dead. Natt went tearing past her ankles to hide under the wagon once again.
Karin’s father came storming from the barn, face purple. “Accursed beast!” he spat. “I’ll put an end to you for good this time!”
“No, please!” Karin begged, grasping at his leg as he snatched Natt up. “He’s just frightened — don’t hurt him!”
But her father shook her off with a growled curse and marched away.
This time, he rowed Natt across the widest stretch of river to abandon him deep in the woods.
Three days later, Karin sat motionless by her window as darkness fell, eyes fixed on the tree line — waiting, hoping, singing their song. Finally, she saw a shadow slinking out from the woods toward the barn.
At the sight of those familiar green eyes, joy and relief flooded into Karin. She swept Natt’s shivering body into her arms, showering him with tearful kisses. Yet beneath her elation lurked a chilling dread. Natt had endured the impossible to return to her side; but at what cost?
She noticed something unsettling straight away. Natt’s eyes burned with a peculiar intensity now. His movements seemed almost…human-like. An uncanny intelligence lurked behind those emerald eyes.
At dawn the next day, Natt sauntered right into the cottage and hopped up on the table near Karin’s startled father. The cat stared him dead in the eyes and let out a vicious hiss with his fur bristling.
Father cursed and swiped at Natt, but the cat sank his teeth into Father’s arm. Father howled. Karin’s mother shrieked prayers and warding signs. Natt jumped down and rubbed against Karin’s ankle, gazing up at her with affection.
Karin brought Natt back to the cellar with shaking hands. He seemed changed — and she feared the worst was yet to come.
Her fears proved true when Father captured Natt once more as the cat dozed next to her early one morning. This time, Father rowed all the way to the distant town to leave Natt there, certain the cat would remain near the markets and be someone else’s problem.
Three long days passed. Karin prayed beneath the full moon each night for her friend.
Just after dusk on the third night, she heard an eerie yowling from the edge of the woods. A pair of lamp-like eyes shone from the shadows.
“Natt, is that you?”
The creature stepped into the moonlight. It was Natt, but not Natt. No longer a simple kitten, he had become something unnatural — part cat, part wolf, with flaring eyes.
Natt gazed at Karin with what seemed like human intelligence and longing. He approached her, but kept his distance from the house.
Karin’s parents peered out the window in horror at this infernal creature. Karin reached her hand toward Natt and he caressed it.
There was hardly any warmth or innocence left in him now. Something far more ancient and malevolent lurked within him; yet, bound by love for Karin, Natt lingered.
And Karin realized she now belonged to the shadows, too.
The pattern continued over the coming weeks and months. No matter how many times Karin’s father tried to kill or abandon the cat, Natt returned after three days, each time more vicious and demonic than before.
Mother grew more fearful, lighting candles before the icons of saints and muttering prayers of protection. She pleaded with her husband to cease tormenting the creature, warning it would only bring down greater curses upon their family. But Father remained relentless in his hatred of Natt.
On the cat’s fifth return, Karin’s father shot at Natt with his musket, grazing him. Three days later, they awoke to find the bloodied carcass of a deer left on their doorstep, its throat torn out.
A week later, after her father beat Natt mercilessly with a log, they discovered the mauled body of a bear cub near the chicken coop.
Yet the cat still showed affection toward Karin, cuddling against her with rumbling purrs, despite its eyes burning with a now human-like evil. Karin found herself terrified of Natt, yet also drawn to him with a disturbing magnetism. She sensed an unbreakable, shadowy bond connecting them.
Late one night, Karin peered out her window to see Natt stalking around the barn, growling low in its throat. It pounced and Karin heard a shriek cut short, then the tearing of flesh. In the morning light, a dead fox lay in pieces at the front door.
After the seventh return, Karin’s father shot Natt point blank in the side and the beast dragged itself away, yowling to die in the woods. But three days later, Natt reemerged from the forest, moving stiffly, one eye now clouded white with infection. The cat’s demeanor had tipped into madness.
Karin sobbed over this pitiful creature, praying forgiveness for her father’s cruelty. She begged Natt to release his hatred and go peacefully from this world. The creature only gazed at her with intense, burning eyes that spoke of endless shadow lands beyond her comprehension.
When the family awoke the next morning, they found the barn doors torn open. Inside, their cows lay gutted, organs strewn around their carcasses. Karin’s father howled with rage while her mother crumpled to her knees, praying wildly.
After eight failed attempts to be rid of the wicked cat, Karin’s parents finally worked together to destroy Natt once and for all.
The full moon cast a ghostly light through Karin’s window as she slept. A large black form curled beside her on the bed. Natt purred softly, soothing Karin’s dreams as he had done so many nights before.
Mother entered first, a sack clutched in one hand. Her face was taut with determination as she approached the sleeping pair. Father followed, the firelight from his lantern casting their elongated shadows across the wall like sinister omens.
In one swift movement, he seized Natt by the scruff, yanking the startled cat from the bed. Natt yowled and thrashed, claws outstretched, as Karin jolted awake. She froze, eyes wide with terror.
“This must be done, child, for all our sakes,” Mother said as Karin sobbed. “This creature is no natural animal.”
Karin pleaded with them, but her parents were unmoved. Securing the heavy sack, they carried Natt from the cottage as Karin trailed behind, weeping and grasping at their backs.
At the edge of the frozen water, Father took up his axe and hacked through the solid ice while Mother restrained the sack’s violent thrashing.
Together, Karin’s parents plunged the sack into the freezing water, holding the desperate creature under. Karin could only watch from the bank, screaming and begging as precious bubbles of air escaped the submerged bag.
At long last, Natt’s struggle ceased, the spirit that had sustained him through so much torment finally extinguished. Weighting the sack with stones, Karin’s parents waited as the night air resealed their victim’s watery grave.
Karin fell to her knees in the snow. Her only loyal companion was gone. She gazed up at the silent woods and the moon’s cold indifference. A curtain seemed to fall within her then, shutting out all light and hope forevermore.
She sank into the shadows of her own soul. She moved ghostlike through her chores, rarely speaking. Her parent’s mood lifted with the deed done.
Each night Karin stared up at the moon from her bed, singing the old lullaby, clinging to the vain hope Natt would return to her once more.
The first night passed. No sign of Natt.
The second night crawled by. Still, only darkness outside her window.
The third night came and went, but the gleaming eyes did not appear. Karin’s spirit shattered. After so many failed attempts, her father had succeeded — Natt was gone forever.
In her desolation, she became convinced Natt’s spirit still lingered, bound to her own, beckoning her to join him in the dark realms beyond the mortal veil. In feverish dreams she sensed his presence, saw his eyes urging her to shed her frail human constraints.
Late one night, as Karin sat gazing out the cottage window, she saw a form emerge from the woods. Heart pounding, she raced outside — and stumbled back in horror.
A gaunt black creature, barely recognizable as the cat she once knew, now stood before her on its hind legs. Matted fur clung to its skeletal frame. Half its face was a mess of scar tissue around two glowing, vengeful eyes.
Karin’s father burst from the house, musket in hand. He aimed at Natt and fired — but the bullets passed straight through Natt’s form, embedding in the dirt behind him. The creature did not flinch.
With a disdainful glance at the terrified humans, Natt turned and padded into the forest. Hours afterward, Karin saw those eyes flashing from the shadows just beyond the tree line as Natt watched the homestead.
Over the next few nights, his presence lingered like a spectre of death.
A sense of dread pervaded the cottage. Karin’s mother took to obsessively sprinkling holy water along every window, threshold, and around the entire perimeter of their home, muttering frantic prayers. At her insistence, they shored up the doors and shutters each sunset.
No one dared step outside once the sun slipped below the treeline. They existed in a waking nightmare, huddled together, jumping at every creak and groan of the old timbers.
One night, as the full moon’s glow seeped through the cracks, a low, guttural sound startled Karin awake; it seemed to come from her parent’s room.
With her heart pounding, she slipped from her bed and grabbed her candle, trying to hold it steady. She slowly pushed open their door.
A faint, wet tearing noise met her, accompanying a queasy, metallic scent. She stumbled back with a strangled gasp, barely able to take in the scene: Natt sat calmly amidst the gory remnants of her parent’s mutilated bodies, languidly licking blood from his paws.
He turned his massive head toward Karin, eyes burning with malice from a face no longer remotely feline.
Terror gripped Karin’s heart as the inhuman creature advanced.
She slammed the door.
In her panicked haste to flee, her candle slipped from her hand, shattering on the rough-hewn floor. Flames instantly licked up the dry straw. She barely registered the growing inferno as she turned and bolted for the door. Her sole driving thought was to escape.
She had barely crossed the threshold when an earth-shaking roar split the night behind her. She didn’t dare look back at the splintering of wood as the abomination smashed through the entryway in a blaze of fire and fury.
Its shrieks pierced her fleeing footsteps as she plunged into the forest, branches whipping around her face and snagging her nightdress. The demon’s loping strides rapidly closed the distance, punctuated by its snarls and the crackling of flames devouring its fur. Yet the fire seemed to have no effect.
Gasping sobs tore from Karin as she hazarded a glance over her shoulder. There, etched in flickering relief by the inferno now consuming her family’s cottage, was a massive, fire-wreathed silhouette rapidly gaining ground. Its elongated jaws stretched in a horrific, fanged grin.
The surrounding trees seemed to recoil, their stark limbs casting a tortured dance as the unholy blaze transformed the night into an apocalyptic vista of shadow and light.
On and on she ran, the branches scoring her flesh, her flimsy nightdress torn to shreds. Yet the stalking monster’s strides never quickened, leisurely savoring her escalating hysteria punctuated by its laughter reverberating through the forest.
Finally Karin could run no more.
She collapsed, sobbing at the base of an oak, hugging her knees to her chest. Perhaps this had been her fate all along, to become the plaything of this conjured demon. She had welcomed the darkness in and now it had consumed her.
As Natt closed in, Gå Söder, Måne spilled from her lips. Tears streamed down her cheeks as she pleaded with the moon to protect her from this twisted creature Natt had become. Though her voice trembled, the notes carried through the silent woods.
The creature halted. His head cocked.
Karin gave the notes her full voice. Memories washed over her of those simple times, holding the tiny kitten on her lap, singing softly until he fell into dreams.
Yet now, an undercurrent of sorrow resonated through each verse. She pleaded to the moon to pierce through the veil of darkness that had enveloped her once-beloved friend’s soul; to guide him back from this grotesque nightmare existence.
For an endless moment, the song hung suspended between them. Her gaze locked with the demon’s, brimming not with revulsion at its hideous form, but with the transcendent, forgiving love that had first stirred her childish heart in the barn all those days ago.
A flicker of recognition, of some distant spark of tenderness amidst the hatred, flickered across the creature. Its skull tilted as if revisiting a half-forgotten dream. A low rumble built in its chest, whether a growl or purr, none could say.
Then, as her voice repeated the song’s final stanzas, the demon shuddered. Some invisible force seemed to draw its soul inward. With a last, lingering look at the little girl, it turned and melted into the shadows.
Karin collapsed to the ground, spent.
In the distance, the homestead continued to burn. She was now utterly alone in this world with her family and only friend gone.
Turning her gaze skyward, Karin continued the lullaby in gratitude to the silent moon above that had guarded her this fateful night. Though grief overwhelmed her, in some deep place, her spirit was at peace.
As dawn broke, the first rays of light fell upon Karin’s face. Shivering, she rose to her feet. Though her clothes were dirty from her ordeal, she felt curiously calm within. She sensed in a small way the shadows had released their grasp on her.
Karin made her way back through the woods toward the smoldering ruins. Wisps of smoke still curled into the pale morning sky. Part of one wall yet stood.
She sifted numbly through the ashes, not sure what she was looking for. Then something shone dully in the ash — the necklace her mother always wore bearing Saint Bridget’s image. Karin clasped it, closed her eyes, and whispered a prayer for her parent’s souls.
As she turned to leave, something else caught her eye : her old cornhusk doll, singed but intact. She gently picked it up and cradled it. Though battered, it had miraculously survived the inferno. She tucked the doll into her pocket, taking this small piece of her old life as a symbol that she, too, could rise from the ashes.
As this new resolve flowed into her, she turned away from the ruins to face the rising sun. Though the road ahead was uncertain, she knew she must walk it with faith, not fear. Her life had forever changed this night, but she had survived the darkness — that was miracle enough.
Karin made her way down the familiar path away from the farm for the last time. She did not look back. Whatever remained here was only ashes and grief.
Karin settled into her new life in the village, keeping mostly to herself at first. Though she made acquaintances, she could not bring herself to share the full truth of what had happened to her family — and the existence of Natt. That secret horror she kept locked in her deepest memories.
Sometimes at night she would wake from nightmares of those glowing eyes staring at her from the darkness. During the day, memories would surface unbidden of her parent’s mutilated bodies and the demonic creature feasting on them. She learned to push these dark visions away and focus on her present life stitching and mending clothes to earn her keep.
Yet rumors soon spread of a fearsome creature haunting the woods, leaving trails of brutally savaged animal carcasses in its wake. Some who dared travel the forest paths at night spoke of seeing a hulking beast with blazing eyes and jaws that could crush a man’s skull. It became known as the Hämndkatt, or Revenge Cat.
Karin felt chilled hearing these whispered tales. Though she tried to convince herself it was just a superstitious fancy — something her mother would have embraced — she knew the truth.
On nights when the moon was full, Karin would catch shadowy movements at the edge of the woods near her small cottage. Shimmering eyes would stare out from the darkness and watch her.
Though Natt had spared her life that night, Karin lived in dread of his ghostly presence just beyond the wood’s edge. She avoided the forest paths and drew her shutters tight at night. She wondered if Natt was still sustaining his cursed existence out of devotion to her. The thought filled her with sorrow.
The legend of the Hämndkatt grew over the years, passed down to frighten children who strayed too close to the woods alone. Karin kept to herself, finding solace in her faith. She prayed that Natt’s tormented soul might finally find peace.
The years slipped by as softly as snowflakes drifting to earth. Karin kept to her quiet routines in the village, finding some contentment in the simplicity of each passing season. Yet, in her twilight days, she felt drawn more and more to the past.
Sitting by her window, she would watch the sun set in splashes of crimson and violet behind the darkened pines. The fading light often carried her mind back to that small girl with braided hair of corn-silk gold, who once whispered secrets to her husk dolls.
She still kept the brittle doll she rescued from the burned remains of her old life. She would hum snatches of half-remembered songs, like fragments of dreams, to it as she stroked its coarse hair.
Sometimes, her weak voice would form the notes of the lullaby she once sang nightly, “Gå söder, måne, vandra med dem…” The melody never failed to bring out memories and tears.
At dusk, she felt an inexplicable longing to wander once more among the old pines, to recapture the lost innocence before fear and heartbreak fenced her heart.
She still saw occasionally the two emerald stars in the deep shadows of the woods. A familiar pain clutched her heart. “Natt…” she would whisper. “Why are you still out there, min älskling?”
The night breeze carried no reply but the rustling of the pines as the eyes turned away. She sensed the devotion that kept him tethered to this realm beyond the confines of nature.
Thus, night after night, Karin kept her vigil as the turning of seasons slowly wound down the clock of her life. She knew her time was almost over, yet she felt compelled to maintain watch.
Then came an evening on Midsummer when the moon rose full and bright, like a lamp to light one’s way home. Karin pulled her shawl tight around her frail shoulders and took up her cane. She stood quavering on legs thinner than her doll’s cornhusk dress. Still, she felt resolute as she headed into the forest.
Mist wreathed the ground as she hobbled deeper into the moon-dappled shadows. The familiar trees welcomed her with creaks and groans. How long had it been? Half a lifetime? A dream?
Long she walked until the trees opened into a clearing. There, amidst the ferns and wildflowers, lay a skeletal black form.
Kneeling with great effort beside the monstrous creature, Karin drew Natt’s ragged body to her thin breast. His breathing came in faint, labored gasps. The eyes that sought hers held no rage now, only profound weariness.
Her hands stroked his head like when he was a kitten. And, softly, she sang their shared lullaby to its conclusion, and allowed, note by halting note, the melody to sooth their spirits.
Gå Söder, Måne, fortsätt på din eviga färd
(Go South, Moon, continue on your eternal journey)Rulla fram genom midnattssvarta skyar
(Roll through midnight black clouds)Fortsätt vaka när andra ljus har slocknat
(Remain watchful when other lights have dimmed)Var deras trofasta vägvisare som leder rätt
(Be their steadfast guide who leads right)För hem vilsegångna steg från skuggornas dunkel
(Brings home straying steps from shadow’s gloom)Tills de nått den fristad där din vårdade blick dem ser
(Until they have reached the refuge where your caring gaze beholds them)Älskade vän, som jag burit i hjärtat så länge
(Beloved friend, whom I have borne in my heart so long)Nu kan du finna din välsignade ro
(Now you can find your blessed rest)Följ månens ljus bortom smärtans gräns
(Follow the moon’s light past the border of pain)Vi skiljs åt men möts igen
(We part but will reunite)I silverglansens rike där ingen sorg består
(In the kingdom of silver radiance where no sorrow endures)
Karin closed her eyes as she finished. Tears rolled down her wrinkled cheeks. She felt Natt’s ragged breaths slowing in her embrace.
When she opened her eyes, her heart swelled with wonder: Natt had transformed back into a tiny kitten. His emerald eyes, once burning with hatred, now shone with the pure, trusting love she remembered from so long ago.
He let out one last faint meow and nuzzled into Karin’s hands in gratitude, before going still forever.
Gently, Karin held Natt’s body close to her heart as she lay back among the moonlit wildflowers. She gazed up at the moon and sensed it welcoming Natt’s spirit into its radiance.
She smiled. “Go South, dear friend. I will follow soon…”
Her eyes fluttered closed as her breathing slowed and then ceased altogether.
Under the moon’s soft glow, two souls once bound by grief flew unfettered into the mystic realms of light. Their enduring love had guided them through sorrow to the arms of joy.
Now they would wander no more but rest in peace together, forever home.
