**CHAPTER NINE

  “The Girl Who Would Not Sleep”**

  Elder Dietrich moved faster than Anna had seen in years, his boots punching through the crusted snow as he half-ran, half-stumbled up the path toward the village. Anna stayed close beside him, breath burning in her throat, her heart hammering with each desperate stride.

  Behind them, the Bauer girl’s moan floated through the trees—soft, dragging, confused. That made it worse. The dead should not sound confused. They should not sound like children.

  At the ridge above the creek, Dietrich finally stopped, doubling over his cane. His chest heaved, visible in sharp bursts through his heavy coat.

  Anna turned back.

  The girl had reached her feet.

  Bare feet.

  Small. Blue. Stiff.

  She staggered toward them, slow but persistent, her limbs moving with the terrible determination of something that did not understand what “stop” meant anymore.

  Anna whispered, “She froze to death.”

  Dietrich closed his eyes. “And now she walks.”

  The world seemed to tighten around them.

  A cold dawn crept over the ridge, throwing gray light across the snow. In that light, the Bauer girl looked like a ghost—or something older, dragging a human shape behind it.

  Anna grabbed Dietrich’s arm. “We need to warn the village.”

  Dietrich swallowed hard. “Yes. Before more fall.”

  Together they pushed up the hill and into the main road that cut through Helvetia. Smoke rose from chimneys. People had begun their morning chores, unaware of the small shape moving slowly toward the village.

  Anna and Dietrich hurried to the square, calling for people to gather.

  “Inside the Fest hall!” Dietrich shouted. “At once!”

  Faces turned. Worry rippled through the crowd like a wind through tall grass.

  “What’s happened?” “What’s wrong now?” “Is it another attack?”

  Anna stepped forward, voice raw. “The Bauer girl—”

  Jonas stumbled into the square before she could finish.

  His clothes were torn. His face gray. His right arm was wrapped hastily with cloth already seeping red. He leaned heavily on a pitchfork, breath rattling.

  This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it

  People gasped. Some rushed to help him, but Jonas shoved them away.

  “She—she took Brunner!” he cried, pointing toward the woods. “She took him into the snow!”

  A clamor erupted.

  Dietrich pushed forward. “Jonas—listen to me. The child is dead.”

  “No!” Jonas shouted, spittle flying. “She’s a demon now. Walking in the shape of a child!”

  Anna stepped forward cautiously. “Jonas… who bit your arm?”

  He flinched at her voice, then glared.

  “You did this,” he hissed. “You brought this curse.”

  Murmurs rose instantly.

  Anna felt the shift—people’s eyes turning to her, suspicion boiling faster than reason.

  She forced her voice steady. “I did not bring the dead to life.”

  Jonas laughed, a wild, broken sound. “Then why is it always near you? Why do the monsters come to your door? Why does the valley twist around your family?”

  “Jonas,” Dietrich said sharply, “the infection is real. And it spreads through bites. You are injured. We must treat you—”

  “Stay back!” Jonas snarled, stumbling away from the Elder. “I won’t let you poison me too!”

  Anna stepped between Jonas and the frightened crowd. “He needs help. If we don’t clean the wound—”

  Jonas’s face twisted with hatred.

  “She wants to get close!” he screamed. “She wants to watch me die, same as her husband! Same as Hans! Same as the Bauers!”

  Anna froze.

  Dietrich slammed his cane into the ground. “Jonas Neely, you speak as a madman!”

  But Jonas was past reason.

  “She is marked!” he cried. “Marked with death! Marked with evil! Get her out of here—before she brings more of them!”

  People began to back away from Anna. Neighbors she’d baked bread with. Families she’d helped at harvest. Mothers she’d comforted through winter sickness.

  Fear had stolen their memories.

  Anna’s chest tightened. “Listen to me—”

  But a scream cut her off.

  A sharp, shrill cry from the edge of the square.

  A child’s cry.

  The Bauer girl stepped into view.

  Her small body shuddered with each movement. Her hair hung in frozen clumps. Her eyes, pale and clouded, fixed on the nearest source of warmth.

  Dozens of villagers stared at her in horror.

  Jonas went white. “It’s her,” he whispered. “She followed me…”

  But the Bauer girl did not look at Jonas.

  She looked at the crowd.

  And then she lurched forward.

  Chaos erupted:

  “Get back!” “Dear God—!” “Run!” “Close the doors!”

  Dietrich grabbed Anna’s arm. “Get the children. Go!”

  Jonas pointed at Anna one last time, face twisted with fury and fear merging into something unmistakably dangerous.

  “This is your fault!” he screamed. “If I die—if the valley dies—your name is the curse that killed us!”

  Anna didn’t answer him.

  There was no point.

  She turned and ran.

  Her boots sliced through the snow, her breath tearing her lungs, her heart pounding with a single, terrible truth:

  The dead had found the village.

  The living had turned against her.

  And both were coming fast.