The Motion Demon (10 page)

Meanwhile, outside it had darkened completely. A lamp near the ceiling, turned on by an unseen hand, vividly lit up the interior. Godziemba drew the curtain, turned his back to the window, and glanced at the compartment. Having been engrossed with the murky countryside, he had not noticed that at one of the stations two people had entered his compartment to occupy the empty seats opposite him.

Now in the lamp’s yellow light he saw his fellow passengers. They were probably newly-weds. The man, tall, lean, with dark blond hair and a clipped moustache, appeared to be in his thirties. Bright, cheerful eyes looked out from under his heavily defined brows. The sincere, somewhat long face was enhanced by a pleasant smile whenever he would turn to his companion.

The woman, also blonde but with a lighter hue, was small but very well developed. Her luxuriant hair, twisted unpretentiously in two thick braids at the back of her head, framed a face that was delicate, fresh, and attractive. The short grey petticoat, clasped simply with a leather belt, emphasized the alluring curves of her hips and firm, young breasts.

Both travellers were covered heavily with the dust and dirt of the roads; they were apparently returning from an outing. An aura of youth and health came from them—that refreshing vigour which mountain climbing gives to tourists. They were occupied in a lively conversation. It seemed they were sharing impressions of their excursion, for the first words Godziemba heard referred to some uncomfortable summit hostel.

‘It’s a pity we didn’t take that woollen blanket with us; you know, the one with the red stripes,’ said the young lady. ‘It was a bit too cold.’

‘Shame on you, Nuna,’ scolded her companion with a smile. ‘One shouldn’t admit to being so weak. Do you have my cigarette case?’

Nuna plunged her hand into the travelling bag and withdrew the requested article.

‘Here, but I think it’s empty.’

‘Let me see.’

He opened it. His face registered the disappointment of a passionate smoker.

‘Too bad.’

Godziemba, who had managed several times to catch the glance of the vivacious blonde, took advantage of the opportunity and, removing his hat, politely offered his abundantly-filled cigarette case.

‘Can I be of service?’

Returning his bow, the other man drew out a cigar.

‘A thousand thanks. An impressive arsenal! Battery beside battery. You are more far-sighted than I, sir. Next time I’ll supply myself better for the road.’

The preliminaries were successfully passed; a leisurely conversation commenced, flowing along smooth, wide channels.

The Rastawieckis were returning from the mountains after an eight-day excursion made partly on foot, partly on bicycles. Twice rain had drenched them in the ravines; once they had lost their way in some dead-end gully. Despite this, they ultimately overcame their difficulties, and the vacation had turned out splendidly. Now they were returning by train, soundly tired but in excellent humour. They might have had one more week of fun among the ranges of the East Beskids if not for the engineer’s surveying job. Anticipating an avalanche of work in the near future, Rastawiecki was taking just this short break. He was going back gladly, for he liked his work.

Godziemba listened only casually to these explanations, divided between the engineer and his wife; instead, he was taken up with Nuna’s physical allurements.

One couldn’t call her beautiful; she was just very pleasant and maddeningly enticing. Her plump, slightly stocky body exuded health and freshness, and aroused his libido with its seductive odours of wild herbs and thyme.

From the moment he saw her large blue eyes, he felt an irresistible attraction. This was odd, for she did not fit his ideal. He preferred brunettes by far, with slender waists and Roman profiles. Nuna belonged to the exact opposite type. Besides, Godziemba did not get excited easily; he was by nature rather cool, and in sexual relations abstinent.

Yet all it took was a meeting of their eyes to kindle a secret fire of lust within him.

So he looked at her intensely; he followed her every movement, her every change in position.

Had she noticed anything? Once he caught an embarrassed glance thrown furtively from under her silky eyebrows—and he also thought he had detected on her luscious cherry lips a little smile full of coquetry and pleased pride meant for him.

This stimulated him. He became daring. During the conversation he moved slowly away from the window and shifted imperceptibly closer to her knees. He felt them opposite his and their pleasant warmth radiating through the grey, woollen dress.

Then, when the coach gave a slight tilt at a turn, their knees met. For a few seconds he drank in the sweetness of the touch. He pressed harder, nestled there, and, with inexpressible joy, felt he was being similarly answered. Was this an accident?

No. Nuna didn’t withdraw her legs; on the contrary, she crossed one over the other in such a manner that her slightly raised thigh hid Godziemba’s slightly too persistent knee from her husband. In this manner, they rode for a long, exquisite time….

Godziemba was in an excellent mood. He told jokes and wicked witticisms that were, however, still acceptable in polite company. The engineer’s wife continually burst out with ripples of silvery laughter, revealing in sparkling profusion, a little predatorily, her even, shiny teeth. The movement of her rounded hips, shaking with shivers of laughter, was soft, feline, almost lascivious.

Godziemba’s cheeks became flushed, his eyes sparkled with fire and intoxication. An overpowering aura of lust exuded from him, forcefully drawing the engineer’s wife into his bewitching sphere.

Rastawiecki divided his gaiety among them. Some peculiar blindness threw an ever-thicker curtain over the duplicitous behaviour of his companion, some strange indulgence made him look through his fingers at his wife’s deportment. Perhaps he never had a reason to be suspicious of Nuna’s frivolousness, and that was why he acted thus. Perhaps he did not yet know the sex demon, suppressed under superficial domesticity, and had never been aware of its corrupting influence and deceitfulness. A fatal spell enfolded these three people in its domain and drove them towards frenzy and abandonment—one saw it in the spasmodic movements of Nuna’s body, the blood-shot eyes of her admirer, the sardonic grimace of the husband’s lips.

‘Ha, ha, ha!’ laughed Godziemba.

‘Hi, hi, hi!’ seconded the woman.

‘He, he, he!’ responded the engineer.

And the train rushed breathlessly along; it darted up hills, slid down valleys; it ripped up the landscape with its powerful chest. Rails rattled, wheels rumbled….

Around one o’clock Nuna began to complain of a headache; the lamp’s bright light bothered her. The obliging Godziemba let down the shade over it. From then on, they rode in semi-darkness.

The mood for conversation slowly died out. The words fell infrequently, interrupted by the yawning of the engineer’s wife; the lady was apparently sleepy. She tilted her head backwards, leaning it against her husband’s shoulder. But the legs that were carelessly stretched out towards the opposite seat did not lose contact with her neighbour; on the contrary, now, in the darkened atmosphere, they were considerably more unrestrained. Godziemba felt them continually, as their sweet weight exerted an inert pressure on his shin bone.

Rastawiecki, wearied by travel, hung his head on his chest. Sinking between the plush cushions, he fell asleep. Shortly, in the quiet of the compartment, one could hear his even, calm breathing. Silence prevailed….

Godziemba was not asleep. Stimulated erotically, burning like iron in a fire, he merely closed his eyelids in pretence. Hot currents of strongly pulsating blood coursed through his body; a delicious lethargy unravelled the elasticity of his limbs, lust’s lassitude took control of his mind.

He delicately placed his hand on Nuna’s leg and felt her firm flesh with his fingers. A sweet giddiness misted his eyes. He moved his hand higher, imagining the silky touch of her body….

Suddenly her hips undulated with a shiver of pleasure; she stretched out her hand and plunged it into his hair. The silent caress lasted but a moment….

He raised his head and met the moist glance of her passionate eyes. With her finger she indicated the second half of the compartment, even darker than where they were. He understood. He got up, slid past the sleeping engineer, and, tiptoeing, went to the other half of the compartment. Here, covered by dense obscurity and a partition that reached his chest, he sat down in excited anticipation.

But the rustling that had occurred, despite all caution, woke up Rastawiecki. He rubbed his eyes and glanced around. Nuna, nestling down momentarily in the corner of the compartment, pretended to be dozing. The place opposite him was empty.

The engineer yawned slowly and straightened up.

‘Quiet, Mieciek,’ she reprimanded him with a sleepy pout. ‘It’s late.’

‘Sorry. Where is that—satyr?’

‘What satyr?’

‘I dreamt of a satyr who had the face of that gentleman who was sitting opposite us.’

‘He probably got off at some station. Now you have the space to yourself. Get comfortable and go to sleep. I’m tired.’

‘Good advice.’

He yawned again, stretched himself out on the oilcloth cushions, and placed an overcoat under his head.

‘Good night, Nuna.’

‘Good night.’

Silence fell.

With bated breath, Godziemba had been crouching behind the partition during this brief scene, waiting for the dangerous moment to pass. From his dark corner, he saw only the engineer’s empty, still boots projecting beyond the edge of the bench, and, on the opposite seat, Nuna’s grey silhouette. Mrs Rastawiecki remained in the same position as her husband had found her after his awakening. But her open eyes glowed in the semi-darkness hungrily, wildly, provocatively. Thus passed fifteen minutes of travelling.

Suddenly, against the background of the rattling of the coach, sharp snoring sounds came from the engineer’s open mouth. Rastawiecki was asleep for good. Then, nimble like a cat, his wife got off the cushions and found herself in Godziemba’s arms. With a silent but powerful kiss they connected their craving lips and became entangled in a long, hungry embrace. Her young, robust breasts pressed burningly against him, and she gave him the fragrant conch of her body….

Godziemba took her. He took her like a flame in the swelter of a conflagration that destroys and consumes and burns; he took her like a gale in unbridled, unrestrained frenzy, a savage wind of the steppe. Dormant lust exploded with a red cry and tore at the bit. Pleasure, bridled at first by fear and the affectation of prudence, finally broke out triumphantly in a rich scarlet wave.

Nuna writhed in passion; she bucked with spasms of boundless love and pain. Her body, bathed in mountain streams, swarthy from the winds of mountain pastures, smelled of herbs thick, raw, and giddy. Her young vaulted hips, soft at the buttocks, were opening up like private tufts of a rose, and they drank and sucked in love tribute. Freed from binding clips, her flaxen hair fell smoothly over her shoulders and enclosed him. Sobs shook her chest, her parched lips threw out some words and entreaties….

Suddenly Godziemba felt a tangible pain at the back of his head, and almost simultaneously he heard Nuna’s distressed cry. Half-conscious, he turned around and at the same time received a strong blow on his cheek. Blood rushed to his head, fury twisted his lips. Like lightning he countered the next intended punch as his fist smashed his opponent between the eyes. Rastawiecki reeled, but did not fall down. A fierce fight commenced in the semi-darkness.

The engineer was a tall, strong man, yet the frenzy of victory immediately tilted towards Godziemba. In this individual, by all appearances slender and weak, some feverish, pronounced strength had been awakened. An evil, demonic strength raised his frail arms, inflicted blows, neutralized the attack. Wild, blood-shot eyes predatorily watched the enemy’s movements, they read his thoughts, anticipated his intentions.

The two men struggled in the quiet of a night disrupted by the rumble of the train, the noise of their feet, or the quick breathing of overworked lungs. They struggled in silence like two boars fighting over a female, who was cuddled in the niche of the compartment.

Because of the tight confines, the fight was restricted to an extremely narrow area between the seats, moving from one part of the compartment to the other. Gradually the opponents tired each other out. Big drops of sweat flowed down from exhausted foreheads; hands, weak from punching, were lifted up ever more heavily. Already Godziemba had stumbled onto the cushions from a well-measured push; but in the next second he was up. Gathering his remaining strength, he used his knee to thrust away his opponent; then with enraged momentum he threw him to the opposite corner of the compartment. The engineer staggered like a drunk, the weight of his body broke open the door. Before he got a chance to stand up, Godziemba was shoving him towards the platform. Here was played out the final short and relentless act of the battle.

The engineer defended himself weakly, parrying with difficulty his opponent’s frenzied fury. Blood was running down his forehead, lips, nose; it was pouring over his eyes.

Suddenly Godziemba rammed into him with the full weight of his body. Rastawiecki lost his balance, reeled, and fell under the wheels of the train. His hoarse scream drowned out the groan of the rails and the rumble of the coaches….