She wanders Siberia sceeeching so that the children can find her. She stands outside of villages and creeps into people's homes, desperately hoping they hear her screams. A child hears her in his bedroom and his blood goes cold. The banshee will sueely eat him if he makes a sound. Then, a rustling. Pairs of red glowing eyes open, illuminating the room. Hungry mouths let out gutteral screams. They all lunge at once, and the boy is surr hes dead. But, they're gone. The boy waits, then after the pain of a rash forming from his soiled pajamas becomes too hard to ignore, he gets up. As he undresses, he curiously looks out the window. Outside, the banshee is surrounded by hundreds of twisted and malformed men. They do not attack her. Instead, they just stand around her in a huddle. It reminds him of running into the arms of his babushka and her grabbing up him and his cousins at once.
They stay huddled for awhile, then they walk toward the water. The boy pulls on his boots and coat and slips out the window. Keeping a safe diatance, he follows them. They wander deeper and deeper into the forest. Occasionally hiding behind trees, the boy follows. Eventually, the clearing opens and there are rows and rows of cottages. Gardens are staked out, and children's toys sit on the stoops of the houses. There is a long creek that separates the forest from the tiny village. The banshee, still screaming but now in harsh Russian, directs the horde into the water. Two by two, they wade into the depths. It covers their ankles, then knees, then they submerge completely. As they come up, they look normal. The banshee directs them to their cottages. As the process got towards the end, the boy's tiredness finally caught up to him. He began to slump against the tree on the edge of the village, and was soon snoring in the snow.
When he awoke, the boy was in his bed. His coat was warm and dry and neatly hung up. His boots were dry and in their home. He might've thought the whole thing was a dream if there wasn't long black hair everywhere.