Misery Valley

A real paradise!” said Tony’s father.

“A paradise?” Tony looked across at the ruins. “I wouldn’t be so sure.”

“Oh, but it is!” his father insisted. He had put down his backpack and was taking deep breaths. “It’s a real treat to see such a large area of unspoiled nature!”

Tony couldn’t resist smiling. “Trick, more like?”

“No, a treat!” his father corrected him. “It’s something very rare. How did you hear about this valley?”

“Oh, uh…” Tony hesitated. “A friend told me about it.”

“A friend? Do I know him?”

“No,” Tony replied. He wasn’t lying, because you couldn’t say that his father really knew the little vampire.

“Anyway, your friend gave you a very good tip,” Tony’s father claimed, “an insider tip, so to speak! Not even the locals seem to know how beautiful it is here! There’s only one thing I don’t understand,” he added after a pause. “Why is it called Misery Valley?”

“Maybe because it’s a misery that no one wants to come here,” Tony said.

“That can’t be the reason,” his father objected. “Maybe it has to do with the old ruins. I admit that they aren’t very inviting.”

No, they really aren’t! thought Tony, who was seeing the ruins for the first time in the daylight. It must have been a large castle complex once, with thick defensive walls. But over time, the structure had almost entirely collapsed except for the castle tower and the main house.

His heart pounding, Tony thought back to the night of the vampire ball, when he had danced with Anna in the main building ballroom to the sounds of Sabine the Terrible playing the organ.

“It looks like a backdrop to a scary movie,” his father said. “For superstitious people, it really must be a terrifying place!” He laughed, very self-satisfied. “I even find the ruins a bit creepy—although I’m certainly not superstitious!”

“Luckily!” said Tony, smiling to himself.

If his mother had been there, the holiday might have come to an abrupt end at the sight of the ruins. She had a much finer sense of all things sinister and threatening, and very strong powers of observation.

Tony’s father, on the other hand, was already engrossed in his map again. “We’re about to come to a river,” he said. “Guess what it’s called!”

“I don’t care,” grumbled Tony, who wasn’t in the mood for guessing games.

“That’s a pity! The river’s called Misery!” his father said. “Now we know how this beautiful valley came to be called Misery Valley!”

Tony smiled but said nothing. It was clear to him that Misery Valley got its name for an entirely different reason: because of the rumors about the werewolves!

The path now led downhill, into the valley. When they reached the bottom, they saw a small stream that was perhaps two feet deep.

“Did you say this was a river?” asked Tony.

“Well,” his father said sheepishly, “it looked wider on the map.”

Tony couldn’t help laughing. “The Wolf’s Den is probably a rabbit hole!” he said.

But he was wrong.

After following the stream for a while, they reached Wolf Hill, as Tony’s father announced after referring to his map. Wolf Hill was a fairly steep slope, overgrown with bushes and shrubs.

“Wolf’s Den must be on this hill somewhere,” Tony’s father explained.

Tony looked up. “Ugh, we have to mountain-climb as well?” he groaned.

“Don’t throw in the towel now, we only have a few yards left to go,” his father joked.

“Not the towel,” Tony said. “But the backpack!”

His father laughed and began the climb.