"Tallemaja" by Erin Banks
In this haunting tale, a familiar figure encounters a Scandinavian huldra for the first time... From WFQ's "Monsters 2024" issue.
Today, we circle back to our Monsters 2024 issue with "Tallemaja" by Erin Banks. This story was Erin's first contribution to Weird Fiction Quarterly, and she's been a regular contributor ever since, with "Cunning" from Folk Horror 2024, and "True Face" from Masquerade 2024.
This story draws upon Scandinavian folklore to introduce us to a huldra, a being that watched and protected the forest where she lived. In this tale, she encounters a familiar figure wandering her lands...
Tallemaja
by Erin Banks
Many miles had she walked, following the call of one of her sisters in the South. The bare treetops refused to hold the coldly glaring winter sun. Instead, it swiftly slipped down across the sickly pallid sky, through twigs and branches. The shadows it left on the glistening ground were gaping jaws, hungry for whatever little warmth they could still receive.
Neither ice nor snow affected Tallemaja, other than leaving the sensation of fingertips ever so slightly brushing along the soles of her rosy feet and gently caressing her bare arms. It reminded her of the touch of the last man she had seduced, after he had set foot into her forest.
Her sister was keeping her promise. Wherever Tallemaja stepped, Holda and her spirit children were shaking out their bedding from high above, the feathers creating a snowstorm that rendered her invisible. It forced the townsfolk to stay indoors, abstaining from today’s festivities. The monster would not rejoice tonight, not send another little soul to Holda. In the distance she could hear him roar and rage already, the heavy chains that loosely hung off of him rattling through the night.
Slowly, a subtle pathway was created for Tallemaja’s vision, the gossamer white powder now mainly dancing aggressively in the air to her left and right. Though his back was turned, the monster lifted his huge head up. Beholding her, he let out another furious holler before charging her. The maiden would not budge, however, remaining firmly in place until he skidded to a halt in front of her, one of his chains flying to wrap around her wrist.
She grabbed it and held it lightly in her open palm. Head cocking, she flashed a coy smile while twirling a strand of her long blonde hair between the fingers of her other hand. As with any male, human or otherwise, she could read him without any effort. He was starved for violence and death, and he now mused that she could at least deliver la petite mort, the little death, to him to soothe his ire.
Tugging on the chain, Tallamaja coaxed him further towards her. Gigantic horns almost hit her in the forehead as the monster inclined his bestial brow. She licked her lips and put her hands on his chest, glancing at him before raising her eyebrows and nodding towards the ground.
Swiftly, he pulled her down with him. Eyes closed, she pulled up her dress and straddled him, remembering her vow. No satisfaction. Satisfaction meant she couldn’t take him. It was the most repulsive feeling, riding him while thinking of enacting justice.
The beast refused to find his release, and eventually Tallemaja dug her fingernails into his massive chest, focusing on giving him her all. She leaned in so he could watch her face, her feigned enjoyment, and the monster finally convulsed. Soaking up his essence, everything he had ever been, Tallemaja contorted her lips in a cruel grin. It was the last thing Krampus ever saw.
This will certainly become a part of my personal collection of dark holiday tales that I share with friends around firelight as the days grow shorter.
On to our Q&A:
WFQ: What was your favorite weird fiction that you read this past year?
EB: Mike Ennenbach's "Yuki-Onna" in Monsters. I had never understood the point of flash fiction until he sent it to me and I realized how much can be conveyed with few words.
WFQ: What is your favorite weird aspect, character, or story about the holidays?
EB: I grew up Pagan. To outsiders, all we do for the holidays is weird. For the twelve Rauhnächte, we always leave a candle burning at night to keep the bad spirits of the old year away. They will otherwise hide in your dirty laundry and you'll carry them over into the new year if you don't wash all your clothes on the 12th day.
WFQ: Where else have you been published in 2024?
EB: Lisa Vasquez: Napalm Psalms, the Scorned anthology, and Jay Long's Shattered Reflections (coming soon).
WFQ: What are you working on for 2025?
EB: About Revenge, the sequel to About Rage, co-authoring a horror erotica novelette, a True Crime column for Memento Mori Ink Magazine, and my short story collection.
WFQ: Where can folks follow you online?
EB: I'm online at tinyurl.com/erinbanks.
Thanks again to Erin for sharing this story with us. Stay tuned for a new tale tomorrow!