Kikimora Grimace

She lived in your apartment before you did.

Kikimora is not summoned. She is invited. Every old building in the city has one — in the crack between the walls, in the damp corner where Wi-Fi never reaches. In folklore she is a house spirit. In the modern city she is what happens when a house spirit gets evicted and angry.

The Grimace spell is simple: you show your enemy what lives behind you.

The witch doesn’t transform. She opens a door. For a second, her shadow stretches too long, too tangled, and another face grins through it — moss hair, yellow eyes, teeth like broken needles. The target doesn’t see the witch anymore. They see her. The thing that lived in their grandmother’s closet. The thing that scratches at night.

Effect in game terms is SCARED — weapon drops, runes fizzle, legs forget how to stand. Lore-wise, victims describe it as pure childhood terror. No skill needed to cast, no artifact to channel it. Just you, the alley, and the understanding that Kikimora was there first.

Young witches paint purple runes on their cheeks before casting. Old ones say it’s not makeup — it’s a promise that you will look like her eventually.

“Quarter 17 never sleeps because Kikimora doesn’t. If you hear knitting at 3am and you don’t knit — move.” – chat in a city magicians’ Telegram.