Mora’s Book Spotlight: showcasing new releases by Croatian authors in English

Bye-Bye, Babaroga, Ivana Geček (published: 26. 9. 2024.)

Genre: sapphic horror

Length: 160 pages

Tagline: It’s time for Babaroga to crawl out of her cave and set her story straight… so to speak.

Description:

Getting a job at a plastic surgery clinic working with a man everybody calls “Butcher” wasn’t bad enough for Kaja—she had to go and join the company’s team building in the remote woodlands of Kalnik, too. Pestered by the heavy rain and heavier fog, all the while navigating booze, hunting, and more unwanted advances from her straight colleagues than could fit into the lodge’s hot tub, Kaja has a personal nightmare to deal with as well—the one who has been haunting her ever since she was a child.

Inviting an old wives’ tale into a modern-day marketing plan as her final chance of making it in the clinic is only bound to make it worse.

Because Kaja’s nightmare visitor seems to have followed along, too… straight back to the place where the legend itself began, bathed in the blood of a long-forgotten tale of sacrifice and forbidden love.

Get the book:

https://books2read.com/u/boeOy0

Excerpt:

Tonight, Kaja wakes up in the dark of the room, although she knows she left her bedside lamp on. Ah, classic Babaroga. She rolls her eyes, savoring the only movement she’s able to do at the moment.

She’s frozen on her side, facing Tihana’s bed, her neck stuck in an uncomfortable position. Kaja waits, blinking at Tihana’s dormant form. She glances at the window behind her conked-out roommate. The rustle of the lanky branches against the windowsill is making her tense.

There’s still no sign of her yet. Kaja wishes Babaroga would just hurry up and get this done, or by tomorrow, along with some nasty dark circles, she’ll have a horrible crick in her neck.

It’s quiet in the room, though; the only sound is Tihana’s soft snoring. An owl hoots here and there, getting on Kaja’s nerves. She waits and waits, limbs glued to the bed. The pale shine of the moonlight is casting a soft veil of blue across the room, making everything seem dreamlike. It would be calming, if it weren’t for the painful clench nestled in Kaja’s stomach. Maybe she won’t come tonight after all, she considers, but knows that’s just wishful thinking. She’s beginning to run hot underneath the covers, sweat pooling around her neck.

It would be natural to assume that the impending dread is the worst part of Babaroga’s nightly visits—sharp, ragged nails dragging across her skin; the rough, iron grip that leaves bruises gone by morning; the tear of pointed teeth piercing her skin, every time feeling like the first. Of course, the pain is gruesome, but to Kaja, what’s worse is the waiting: lying in the dark, unable to move, just anticipating for Babaroga to slither into Kaja’s view and bare her teeth. A feeling of utter powerlessness strums through every inch of her body, reminding her that, for the next few hours, she’s about to lose all control, and there’s no one in this world who can help her.

Finally, something rustles underneath Tihana’s bed. Kaja’s gaze snaps downward, meeting glowing, ember eyes. A slow growl fills the room and Kaja knows it’s about to start.

The ragged, bony horn emerges first, followed by a pair of wrinkly arms. Jagged nails scrape against the wooden floor, and Kaja hates how familiar it sounds. A hiss comes from the dark, and soon, with a swift pull and a snap of bones, Babaroga drags herself from underneath the bed, rising up crooked and cadaverous and wretched as always.

She’s smiling at Kaja, standing beside Tihana’s bed. She likes to do that before anything else—for a thing like her, it’s an appetizer of sorts—and bare her teeth into a big, wide grin, so wide that it reaches her ears and contorts her face in a way that’s painful to watch. Kaja’s never gotten used to it, and thinks she never will. Years later, it still sends shivers down her spine: the sharp teeth, the cracked, salivating mouth, the glowing red eyes, wide and bulging, full of impish joy and anticipation for what’s to come.

She stares at Kaja like that for quite some time, leering in silence. The smell of her is slowly starting to spread through the room, making the air stinky and thick. Kaja’s staring right back at her, a tear sliding from her eyes every now and then—by the time Babaroga finally moves, the pillow is uncomfortably damp underneath Kaja’s face.

Babaroga’s gangly arms are now reaching slowly to the side. Much to Kaja’s horror, she bends and drags a torn fingernail across the smooth, plump surface of Tihana’s cheek, dipping into the soft skin, and enjoys the way Kaja’s eyes widen in mute frenzy. Then, with a fracturing, alacritous motion, she jumps at the wall on all fours, with her long, black hair whirling across the room and her body contorting in impossible angles. She shrieks, piercing and ear splitting, before disappearing from Kaja’s view.

The scream leaves a tense silence in its wake. By now, Kaja’s boiling under the covers, smothered by the heat and fear likewise. There’s a hushed, uncanny shuffling coming from above her, underneath her, behind her, claw like fingernails scratching the walls, the floor. The sulphury, rotten stench is becoming stronger, filling out Kaja’s nostrils and making it hard to breathe, as if to say: Yes, you’re about to suffocate, and yes, there isn’t a thing that you can do about it. She hopes that she won’t barf or piss the bed, as she sometimes does. It would be tricky to explain to Tihana in the morning—Babaroga made me do it, I swear, she’d plead, watching Tihana scrunch her nose in disgust like she did when she smelled the cow shit on their ride to Kalnik.

The bed dips behind her. Kaja can smell the foulness of Babaroga’s breath, the stink of the dirt hidden in the folds of her unwashed body. Wet, ragged wheezes graze her cheek. The covers are peeled away from her, dragging slowly across her stiff body, leaving her exposed. The cold air clings uncomfortably to her clammy skin, pinches her sweaty neck. Babaroga cackles in joy, but Kaja barely hears it, with her ears buzzing like a nest of hornets.

A bony hand wraps around her neck. It’s calloused and rough against her skin, the hold tightening with every second. Kaja looks at Tihana peacefully sleeping, and thinks, like she did many times in her life, I wish I were like everybody else.