Bergman’s Cottage

Bergman’s Cottage

by Indigo Giordana-Altú

Golden sunrays spread out like folds of a Japanese fan, dispersing the shadows cast by the cluster of birch trees. The road that curved through them was beautifully mystic. On most occasions, it beckoned travelers to follow it to its end which was a century old cob house that had been used as a honeymooners’ private inn for the past thirty years. The craftsmanship was mesmerizing. It was easy to see that someone long ago had put time and effort into the placement of every stone and the smoothing of every earthen wall. Its accents were all of wood from the birches. It was inviting to any bride who wanted to spend her first days with her new husband in a place that reminded her of the fairytales she grew up with. Part of its marketing draw was a reputation for exclusiveness. Adding to its popularity was the fact that its exact location was never disclosed. A service was provided for the couples to be whisked off to the location, first by limo and then a transfer to a horse drawn carriage that would take them the rest of the way. 

The little piece of enchanted paradise was now owned by Donovan Lisk, a business mogul who had inherited the property from his mother’s cousin, Alcott Bergman. Alcott had been responsible for his care giving since his parents’ untimely death when Donovan was an infant. It is said to have happened at the cottage and was quite disturbing. Donovan barely remembered his own life at the cottage and never had the chance to inquire more about his parents. His real memories began with his arrival at boarding school in Ojai when he had just turned four. He had only seen Alcott twice in his lifetime but his sense of family was fulfilled through his classmates and staff at the school. He was quite happy with being raised there and he learned a range of things, from outdoor survivalist skills to advanced physics and several foreign languages. The school was responsible for his success.

When Alcott’s lawyer visited Donovan at his company to share the news of Alcott’s passing, it was more like being told that the sky is blue. Donovan had no attachments whatsoever. His disinterest was slightly changed when he was told of his inheritance of the cottage as well as the four hundred acres that it sat on. Donovan saw dollar signs and imagined all the things he could do with that much property. 

“If you want more details on the nature of your cousin’s death, you will need to contact the authorities in the jurisdiction of the Bergman’s Cottage.  The deed, keys, directions, financial records, bank accounts are all here. All I need you to do is sign here,” the lawyer affirmed while sliding him a document.

Donovan still had not been attentively listening but acknowledged the papers coming toward him. He quickly signed and was left with a copy for himself. After the lawyer left, he analyzed the financial records. He knew that to have lived for so long at his boarding school, his family had to be affluent but was surprised that Bergman’s Cottage had generated millions of dollars in revenue over the years. What Donovan did not yet know was at what cost it came. 

Year after year, though it profited highly, the human loss was certainly not worth the intake. There had been well over one hundred unsolved murders on the property. There were never any signs of forced entry and death was specific to those who worked there or the ones who were of the Bergman bloodline. There were suspicions and rumors. Some thought it was Alcott and that he led a cult of some kind. Others thought that it was haunted and shared their stories that had been passed down over generations about earlier deaths on the same soil. Almost all locals, except the overtly curious, stayed their distance from the expanse of property. Several petitioned for the inn to be shut down but their efforts were in vain. Alcott and the mayor had been best friends their whole lives. He definitely knew more than the people did about Alcott’s family, so it was easy for him to turn a blind eye to all the grim happenings. The mayor frequently reminded the people of how much good the Bergman family had done for the county’s people over the years. They agreed with that, knowing that Alcott especially was the most giving of all, but they were not at ease with what they knew.

Each year, Alcott had to hire a new cook, maid, a performer, and groundskeeper. It was always around the same time of year, when the birch tree branches had long become barren, that the Bergman land became darker in more ways than one. Alcott ignored all social responsibility by advertising a winter discount of half off the usual price, suggesting the discount was because the season provided less scenery and terribly cold temperatures. His enticer was the mention of cozy fireplaces, gourmet meals, and a stringed instrument performer for ambiance. The eager brides would always scramble to hold their spot and even change their wedding dates for the chance to be there even if it was off season. It did not matter to him that he was setting the couples up for tragedy. In his mind, he knew it had to happen. Alcott had come to believe that the forest had a hungry spirit and he had to appease it in order to have eleven months of peace in between. His staff had not been local since the pattern was realized. In the past two decades, all hires have been wanderers who easily responded to Alcott’s ads about living off the grid. They too never knew where they were going and agreed to being escorted to the location where they were able to stay in a stick-built four bedroom tree house style quarters he had made for the workers, just a five minute walk away from Bergman’s cottage. 

In this last winter season, when Alcott passed, it was the same as always. His new workers mistook the guilt and sympathy in his eyes for kindness as he welcomed them to their new place of work. 

Standing there in his warm winter coat and fog escaping his mouth, he waved as the carriage came to a halt, “Welcome to Bergman’s cottage. I hope you enjoyed your ride here.”

Alcott held out his mitted hand and helped a comely young woman out of the carriage, followed by two gray haired women about his age, and a burly man who seemed to be about at midlife. It was eating Alcott up inside that he knew the truth that was contrary to the hope for a new life that they all wore in the expressions of their faces. With the exception of one of the older women, the group looked around in awe at the wintry landscape. They introduced themselves one by one. The youngest one, Cadence, was a singer and cellist whose mother had known she would have the gift of song from the rhythmic way that she cried when she was born into the world. The twins, Sole and Luna, were born in America when their parents cruised there on vacation. Having lived in Italy their whole lives but aware that they were U.S. born, had always left them with curiosity about the place. Accounting for the promised paid vacations in the ad, Luna had convinced Sole that this was their perfect chance to discover their second homeland. Brandon was a displaced steel worker who would do anything to avoid the slum style living he had fallen to over time. A ward of the state when he was young, he really had nothing much to cling to over the years. 

The driver helped them to unload their bags and was eager to leave as he always did without a care of what was happening back at the cottage. He lived in the city and was paid well to make his rounds between the airport and cottage. Even better, he knew that particular trip would be his last trip until spring because he is always given all of winter off. It was a perk he loved because of all the years he missed being at home for Christmas when he was a train conductor. His kids had pretty much grown up without him and he didn’t want to miss out on his grandchildren one bit. Every year, Alcott rode in the carriage to where the limo was parked and would wait for him to bring the couple to him so he could take them back to the cottage himself. The driver never had any questions because Alcott was a kind employer who made sure his needs were met. As the routine always went, he waited for Alcott to give the staff instructions on having everything ready for the couple by the time he returned at sunset. 

They small group waved as the two went off on the carriage and began talking among themselves as they took in all that was around them. 

“It is so beautiful. I can’t wait to see it in the spring time,” Luna said.

Sole eyes a Goshawk gliding above the cottage and comments, “It isn’t what I pictured but it will do.  Mr. Bergman didn’t mention anything about a tree house either. My knees are not going to be happy.”

“You always complain about everything. It’s not that bad, Sole,” Luna’s sister chided, “It has a flight of stairs that leads right to the door.”

“This feels like a dream for me. I can’t believe I am finally getting paid for my music. My brother said that the ad was a scam and wanted no part of it. He is going to be so jealous when I send him pictures,” Cadence interrupted.

“You ladies sure are the lucky ones. I wonder just how much of this place he expects me to maintain. This land is ridiculously huge,” Brandon says while kicking a stone.

Cadence suggested that they go check out the cottage. While they looked at it in a leisurely way, all Brandon saw was work. He instead offered to take all their bags to the tree house and take a nap before chopping wood if they didn’t mind. The women welcomed the thought of him carrying all their stuff for him and encouraged his nap. 

The inside of the cottage was jaw-dropping with its handmade birch furniture. Everything, including the walls and fireplace, had a somewhat warped appearance but it was perfectly imperfect. Cadence rubbed her fingers along carvings in the walls. Some were plants and others were feathers. She wondered how old it was and who the artisan could be. When they ventured into the bedroom, they saw the beautiful canopy bed. Etched in the wall above it was a dream catcher. A few feet away from the bed was a spa like bathroom that had been updated with a few modern features. Once they were done marveling, they remembered that they were there to work and began all the preparations that Alcott had previously requested. Luna quickly found all the ingredients she requested when they accepted the job and focused on preparing traditional Italian bread, pasta, veal, and a few dessert selections for the couple’s first dinner. Sole did what she was best at; making sure things were tidy and romantic. The cottage was already spectacular but her little touches with the right placing of the candelabras and masterful craft making for decor made it something the bride and groom would never forget. She even carved their soap into little swans. The more Cadence watched the sisters in action, the more she felt like she wasn’t carrying her weight. When she asked to help, they declined in a tone that seemed that she was more in the way than anything else. So, she did what she thought would be best.

Cadence put on her coat and hat so she could get her cello and practice. When she first left the cottage, she paused and observed the Goshawk picking at another bird. It pulled at a piece of flesh until it snapped. It sickened her and she regurgitated a bit before continuing to the tree house. As Cadence approached, she noticed Brandon’s larger footprints in the snow. Like a little girl, she grinned and intentionally stepped in each one until she got to the steps. As Cadence climbed the steps, she paused because she thought she heard something behind her. When she turned around, she saw nothing and continued up. She didn’t notice the second pair of footprints that were now next to the ones she had walked up in. When she got to the door, she gave a gentle knock while entering. Brandon was snoring loudly from one of the bedrooms. Their living room space was what she considered eccentric. The wooden panel walls each had a spiral of words written in a language that she did not understand but thought maybe she had once seen when she went to her friend’s bat mitzvah. Alcott didn’t seem to be Jewish to her. There also was a rather large Elk statue near the couch which was covered with a large tarp featuring an open palm with an eye on it. 

Cadence went over to where Brandon had piled all their belongings and grabbed her Cello case. As she neared the bottom of the steps, she felt something grab her ankle and she fell over screaming. Falling face forward, her nose hit one of the steps and split across its bridge. Brandon heard her scream and came running out. Luna and Sole, who also heard her, stood outside of the cottage and looked from the distance as Brandon picked her up as though she weighed nothing at all. The bleeding and rapid bruising was bad. 

“What happened?” Brandon asked as he started carrying her to the cottage.

Cadence’s head dropped back and she looked back at the tree house with hazy vision. She saw a woman with long, slightly matted, ink black hair. She stood just at the edge of the forest and looked somewhat like the woman from One Million Years B.C. movie her mother had shown her when she was young. She disappeared into the shadows and Cadence passed out. When Brandon reached the front door of the cottage, Sole and Luna blocked the doorway.

“She had a pretty bad fall over there. We need to treat her,” Brandon said.

“We can’t lose our jobs. Look at all the blood. It will ruin the cottage. Take her to the barn by the tree house. We can tend to her there. I will find a first aid kit. Surely there is one somewhere,” Sole said a bit coldly while walking away and shaking her head, “…such a salami.” 

Luna went with Brandon. They entered the barn and it is just as odd as the tree house’s living room. The barn’s walls are covered with circles, almost like Kandinsky except pupils at each center. He placed Cadence on the ground but sat her upright with her back against the hay. He called her name a few times and she stirred a bit but still wasn’t lucid. 

Luna stared at the walls and whispered “Malocchio” while doing the sign of the cross. She told Brandon that she had to leave. As she was leaving, Sole appeared and Luna grabbed her arm telling her sister to tend to girl and get out of there. She prayed as she continued to make her way out. Sole joins Brandon and Cadence. She too notices the walls. Brandon asked her what was wrong with Luna and Sole told him it was nothing and that her sister is just religious. As she Cadence’s face, she laughed saying that her sister probably just thinks the art on the wall is the evil eye, something that is often spoke of back home in Italy. Once all the blood was gone from Cadence’s face, it was clear that all she needed was a butterfly bandage. She woke up just as Sole affixed it. They helped her to stand and she explained that she felt something on her ankle when she fell. She also tried to describe the woman she saw. Brandon and Sole couldn’t help but laugh at the description. They pointed out to her that they are at freezing temperatures and there is no way she saw a woman dressed like a caveperson. 

The three of them left the barn and Brandon grabbed Cadence’s cello case as they passed the tree house. 

“Cadence, don’t carry anything else down or up the steps. There is no need for it. I am here and will be glad to do it.” Brandon said.

“How chivalrous of you, Brandon,” Sole said with a tone of accusation of his motives.

Brandon picked up on it and immediately added that it goes for all of the ladies.  After the women were back in the cottage, Brandon went to chop wood as he originally intended after the nap. Cadence still felt on edge. She wondered if her brother was right all along. She considered that it all may be too good to be true. As the hours went on, they all got back to business. They didn’t have much time because the couple was due back just at sunset. Luna seemed to want everything to be perfect more than anyone else. It was if she was preparing for her honeymoon with the amount of care she was placing into everything but Cadence noticed that she now was praying over everything she touched. Luna also told Cadence that she felt that the bride and groom would be upset by Cadence’s appearance and insisted that she wear her veiled hat that she had brought along. Cadence hated it but the large bow and polka dots on the netting did cause enough distraction. With her head tilted while playing, it would definitely be a distraction from her nose. Before Luna let Cadence go on about her business, she grabbed her hands and said a blessing. Cadence pulled her hands back and said half-hearted thanks because she felt Luna had all of a sudden become far stranger than when they met.

Brandon carried in a bundle of wood to set near the fireplace in the cottage. Sole, showing a bit of softness for a change said, “Come here. Have some pasta for your strength.” He was indeed hungry and gladly accepted the offer. After devouring the food which was the best thing he had tasted in years, he said he was going to go out to do one more round of chopping so he doesn’t have to do any more for the next few days. When he went back out, he picked up the axe that he laid down and started walking. As he did, he thought he saw a shadow move in the nearby trees. He squinted in the direction of it and took a few steps closer while holding the axe with a tighter grip. When he was just near the trees, a snowy owl took flight. It caused him to jump back a little.

He muttered to himself, “Crazy place has too many birds. Tomorrow I am going to make a scarecrow.”

He continued to walk and swore he heard whispering. Brandon considered that he might just be tired until he turned and saw a woman. She was squatting, barely dressed, and appeared to be gripping her body to combat the cold temperature.

“Hello? Hey, what are you doing out here?” Brandon asked as he approached. Once he was standing by her, he saw that her body was covered with lesions and thought sure it had to be hypothermia. He quickly removed his jacket and put it over her. He helped her to standing and slowly turned her around. He was horrified by the sight of her face which did not have a human nose and mouth, but instead a beak. Just as he was about to scream out, she plunged her hand into his abdomen. Her fingers turned to sharp birch branches, coming out through his back and then curling up over his head. His eyes stretched wide as the pressure increased on his head until it was crushed. The branches retracted and went back out the same way that they entered him. His lifeless body fell to the ground and she devoured his flesh. Once she had her fill, she walked into the woods and feathers began sprouting from her back. She grew smaller and smaller until she took flight.

In the near distance, the hooves of the horses were heard approaching. Hearing them too, Sole told Luna and Cadence to take their places within the cottage. Alcott brought the carriage to a halt and helped the newlywed out of the carriage. They were both young and it was obvious that both were born with silver spoons in their mouths.  Their expected stay was a month and they were ready to share their love as though it was actually their first time. Seeing their growing urges, Alcott hurried them toward the cottage telling them that he would have Brandon bring in their bags. As they reached the door, Sole opened it up and greeted them in Italian. Luna did the same and Cadence, feeling inadequate at her lack of knowing a foreign language, bowed her head and greeted them in the language she knew best. Cadence played Waldesruhe and lost herself in creating the couple’s perfect honeymoon moment.

The couple was seated to dine. Alcott asked where Brandon was and Sole informed him that he was chopping a firewood supply to keep in the barn. Alcott went over to the barn expecting to see Brandon there. He saw that it was vacant and was quickly startled by the walls. 

“Oh no,” he said, “It has already started.” 

Alcott left the barn and called out Brandon’s name. He looked around and then saw the massacre that lied just beyond the barn. Alcott rushed back to the carriage and haphazardly grabbed the couple’s bags.  He rushed them to the cottage and started carrying inside. Sole continued to provide food service and Cadence played her cello while keeping an eye on Alcott who was sweating though it cold out.

“Where is Brandon? Shouldn’t he be doing that?” Luna asked.

“I didn’t want to stop him. He was working pretty hard in there. I told him to go ahead and take rest when he is done,” Alcott said in a jittery way.

“Are you alright?” Luna asked, “Let me help you with some of it. I may be a bit older but I am still strong.” 

Alcott replied, “No. I am fine. I am just a little tired myself. I am going to ride on back to my house and hope to see you three first thing in the morning.”

“Four.” Luna said.

Alcott appeared lost.

“You said three. There are four of us,” Luna stated.

Alcott covered himself by saying that he was just referring to the ladies. Luna inquired about how far away his house was and when he said that it was just a couple of hours off, that unsettled her a bit. She wondered to herself why he did not live there as well. He could see the questioning in her face and went on and answered the question without her asking. He explained that because it is still a business, he needed to have access to modern conveniences to relate to his customers. The answer made enough sense to her. Alcott approached the couple. They were just finishing their dessert and asked if there is anything else he could do for them before morning. When they stated that there was nothing, he tipped his hat their direction and said, “God be with you.” Assuming it was a regionalism, they all replied the same to him. After Alcott left, the couple danced to Cadence’s songs and then easily dismissed themselves from the care of the women.  Hearing some of the noises from the bedroom embarrassed the ladies and they cleaned as fast as they could so they could get back to the tree house.

It grew darker as Alcott made his way down the winding road. Usually nothing ever happened while he was still present. He wondered why his timing had been off until he remembered that the year before had been a leap year and caused him to miscalculate. As he rode, he heard eerie noises and multiple whispers saying the family name, Bergman. He was intent on ignoring it and making his way out of the wood but the horses stopped abruptly. He tugged the reins violently and even used the whip but they didn’t flinch a bit. When he got out and looked at them, their eyes were star filled, like the universe itself. They breathed slowly as if in meditation. Not knowing what to do, Alcott started running as much as his older body would allow. 

As he ran, the bird woman appeared right in front him. He had always heard about her but never had to come face to face with her. He didn’t want to back down, so he drew upon his earlier football days and charged her. As he did, she opened her beak and screeched. Her body scattered as a flock of red-winged blackbirds and then unified as a mass, returning to peck and scratch him to death.  Once Alcott died, she regenerated as a woman again and walked up to the horses, petting them and rubbing her hand along their faces. They were unafraid as their eyes returned to what was natural. Without her touching them, their harnesses fell to the ground and they went free.

The woman walked toward the cottage about the same time that the ladies were concluding the chores. As she walked, flashes of her life before then fueled her wrath. Long ago, she had been a little girl named Rosella who was eager to spend winters with her Baba who was the first of her people to decide that she no longer wanted to be a traveler. Her Baba had stopped her travels when she was only thirty years old. This was her way of dealing with her broken heart when her husband was caught in a riptide and drowned.  She did not want their newly married daughter to be burdened with a grieving mother and no one wanted her to be alone. So, they traveled with her one last time to find a suitable place. Once they found it, they purchased the entire birch forest. Then they worked as a community to build the cottage from the earth around it. They all vowed to send someone to stay with her each season for the rest of her life. Rosella was born a few years after her Baba started living in the Birch forest. Starting at age five, she was escorted there to spend every winter with her Baba and picked back up every spring. They always had a wonderful time together. Baba took extra care to teach her how to live off of the land and maintain their Romani traditions. It was their mission to maintain them when they moved to America after the slavery of their people had been abolished. Rosella’s Baba adored her and admired how quickly she learned. 

One winter, when Rosella was about sixteen years of age, she was more eager than ever to see her Baba. She wanted to share that her marriage had been arranged and she truly did feel that she loved him with all her heart. By special request, she wanted to have wedding at the birch forest. When she shared her news with her mother and escorts still present, Baba was excited and said they would spend the winter making her wedding dress. Rosella’s mom was just as happy to return and tell everyone that they would all come back together for a spring wedding.  During Rosella’s visit, Baba began sharing older wisdom with her about love, life, and spirituality… all the things she should know as she became more fully a woman. The time together grew more and more sentimental with each day that went on. Unknown to them, their entire world would be disrupted. 

In a town nearby, a man by the name of Bergman really wanted Baba’s land for himself. When the county clerk told him that the land was already owned by the gypsies, he directed him to go talk to Baba. When Bergman first came, it was with a smile and simple expression of interest. He seemed understanding when Baba explained the land truly belonged to her whole family, generations of people who would come back and commune on the land once her life gives way to the spirit. Rosella and Baba thought that would be the end of it but he returned to the clerk and at gunpoint made him destroy the land deed and write a new one in the Bergman name. He returned with a group of men demanding that she and Rosella leave. When Baba refused, the men beat her to death. Rosella ran away when her attempts to defend her Baba did not work. Bergman sent one of his men after her. When he finally caught up to her, he did more than capture her. He violated her in a way that she would never be able to come back from and a condition that her future husband would not be allowed to marry her in. As she laid there barely clothed and weeping in fetal position, he pointed the gun at her. Rosella called out to the earth, begging it to give her strength and save her. 

The tree branches trembled. One of the tree’s branches stretched forward and grabbed him like tentacles, pulling him back towards its trunk as he screamed. He shot his gun wildly before dropping it. The branches pierced through his body and then birds came in droves, taking bits of his flesh. When Bergman and the other men arrived, they saw Rosella lying on the ground. There was a bullet wound in her chest and she was bleeding. When they realized what was happening in the tree, they tried to shoot it to free their friend but the other trees started reaching for them and they fled. Rosella drew her last breath on the forest floor but it would not be her life’s end. One by one, animals of all kinds began surround her. Their spirits left their bodies and entered her. With each spirit entry, she drew another breath as their carcasses fell around her. When they were done, one of the trees picked her up with its branches and she was passed from tree to tree. With each pass, a few birch leaves would sprout from her skin but then dry out and fall to the ground as if all four seasons were going through her. She was eventually placed down at the entry of a cave. A vulture walked out of the cave and looked at her quizzically. It walked around her, glaring much like a human would in viewing art a museum. It nodded and let out a powerful screech before becoming a swarm of black flecks and entering through her mouth. A beak formed on her face.  She wakened with a start and stood with the full power of nature. She could not fully understand what had happened but new she had transitioned to a new life where she would have the responsibility of avenging her Baba. She would later find that it was not only for her Baba but all of her family and friends who were killed by Bergman and men who hid and waited amidst the trees to shoot them when they arrived for the wedding that would never happen.

The power that she felt then was the same power she felt as she approached the cottage now. She paused when she saw the glow of a light in the tree house and redirected herself. She walked up the steps and could hear the women talking about Brandon and wondering why he wasn’t in there as they checked the bedrooms. She used psychokinesis to open door with great force. The women were in frenzy when they took in what they saw. Luna backed away and slid into a corner. She cried and prayed, begging God for forgiveness for things she has knowingly and unknowingly done. Sole tried to get her to stand up and when she wouldn’t, Sole started throwing things at the frightening creature. Cadence joined her in picking up objects but it did not help as she outstretched her arms. The tree house walls shook around them.  She split into many, revealing each animal spirit she held inside. They all attack the women, leaving them mauled and void of life. When she reunified, it was solely as her vulture spirit and she finished them off. 

When morning came she, who was once Rosella, was sitting on the windowsill of the cottage in the form of a Bohemian Waxwing. The newlyweds wandered out, jointly complaining about no one being there to serve them breakfast in bed as the brochure stated. They walked over the tree house and went upstairs. The bride was ready to bang on the door in anger when they noticed the door was wide open. The scene was so gruesome that she began vomiting as her husband rushed her out the door. He saw a pitchfork and grabbed it, carrying it as a weapon to defend themselves against the unknown as they escaped. When they came upon the horseless carriage and saw Alcott’s remnants, they had no idea what to think and was most surprised when they made it all the way to the next town to tell their tale, unthreatened and unharmed just like every newlywed couple before them. Amid all the rumors and stories, no one could ever figure out why the couples always made it out alive but were glad they did.

As Donovan Lisk continued to stare at the financial records, he was missing the full picture. None of these events would ever become known to him if he didn’t read the details of the will and take the time to visit Alcott’s home where he left hints for him to find a video on his computer that would explain the events over the years. Donovan’s nature of disregard for such details would certainly take prevalence and he most assuredly would not follow up with local law enforcement to find out what happened to Alcott or all the people before him. Though Lisk by name, like every other Bergman in his line, he would let greed be his guide and the cycle of Rosella’s vengeance would start again.