it wasn’t always peaceful. Sometimes, a rough cry would ring out, and a scuffle would begin. Andreas Gruber, the head of the family from Hinterkaifeck, was not a frequent guest, but when he appeared, the atmosphere changed noticeably. Drunk, irritable, he often found fault with other visitors, insulted them, and provoked them into fights. Hans, the innkeeper, tried to appease him, but Andreas was a stubborn and aggressive man.
«Well, Hans, pour me a mug of your best beer!» shouted a tall, lanky man in a worn leather jacket, sitting down at one of the tables. It was Josef, the local blacksmith.
At the next table, swaying, sat Andreas Gruber himself. His face, usually stern, was flushed from the beer he had drunk. His eyes gleamed with a feverish light, and his lips twisted into a mocking grin. He clutched his glass as if he were afraid it would be taken away from him.
«What’s wrong, men, have you lost heart?» he roared, his voice hoarse from drinking. «Come on, have fun! Drink while you can! Tomorrow, maybe, there won’t be time to drink…» His words hung in the air, like a bad omen.
Fritz, who was playing cards with Günther, glanced at Andreas, trying not to meet his gaze. «Everything’s fine, Andreas,» he muttered, hoping that this would appease Gruber.
But Andreas could not be stopped. «Everything’s fine? And on my farm…”, he stammered, his face contorted with anger, «On my farm, things are happening… Ghosts, at night, wandering around. I hear footsteps, creaks… It’s getting scary!» He laughed, but there was a note of hysteria in his laughter.
Hans, hearing this, frowned. He knew that Andreas was not a simple man. Lately, he had become suspicious, secretive, and had increasingly complained about strange incidents that supposedly took place on his farm.
«Andreas, you should sit at home, rest,» Hans tried to reassure him. «You’ve had too much today, you’ve completely lost your head.»
«Shut up, Hans!» roared Andreas, waving his arms. «It’s none of your business! It’s my life, and I’ll decide what to do!» He splashed the remains of his beer right on the table, causing Fritz and Günther to wince. «And you, cowards, sit here, trembling. Afraid of ghosts? Ha! I have…»
He did not have time to finish speaking when Josef, the blacksmith, rose from the neighboring table. His face, usually calm, was grim. «Andreas, you’re crossing all boundaries today,» he said, his voice firm and confident. «Behave yourself or get out of here.»
«Are you going to tell me what to do, you snot-nosed kid?» Andreas jumped to his feet, his eyes bloodshot. «I’ll show you…»
And then, before he could finish the sentence, he lunged at Josef. A scuffle broke out in the inn. Mugs clattered, chairs flew, shouts and curses were heard. Hans and his wife, Anna, tried to separate the fighters, but Andreas was too strong and fierce. The fight ended only when one of the peasants, seeing that Hans could not cope, dragged Andreas out of the inn, almost throwing him out onto the street. A loud bang of the front door echoed, and silence fell.
The inn became quiet, as if a hurricane had just passed through. People exchanged glances, straightened their clothes, and examined the broken mugs. Hans sighed heavily and began to clean up the aftermath of the fight. Everyone knew that Andreas Gruber was a dangerous man, and this night did not bode well.
A thick silence hung in the air, broken only by the crackling of firewood in the fireplace and the quiet whispers of the visitors. Hans silently swept up the shards of earthenware, his face darker than a thundercloud. Anna, clutching a rag in her hand, carefully wiped beer from the table, trying not to look towards the door behind which Andreas had disappeared.
Josef, the blacksmith, sat at his table, rubbing his bruised jaw. His face was grim, but his gaze was firm. He was not afraid of Andreas, but he understood that this night’s quarrel could have serious consequences. Gruber was a vindictive and vengeful man, and no one knew what he might take it into his head to do.
«So what will happen now?» Fritz asked quietly, turning to Günther. «This Andreas won’t let it go just like that.»
Günther shrugged, his face expressing anxiety. «Who knows what’s on his mind. They say he’s completely lost it.»
«Ghosts or no ghosts, it’s better not to mess with someone like that,» added Josef, interrupting their conversation. «We have to be careful. Especially those who live next to his farm.»
Hans, finishing cleaning up, approached their table, his face serious. «Josef, you’re right,» he said. «This Andreas has completely lost his head. I wouldn’t be surprised if he does something terrible. We have to report to the sheriff.»
«And what will the sheriff do?» Fritz scoffed skeptically. «Andreas is a rich farmer, he’ll always find a way to buy his way out. And then we’ll have to live with it…»
«Nevertheless, we have to do something,» Hans insisted. «We can’t keep silent. Otherwise, trouble can’t be avoided.»
But, as is often the case in small villages, fear and distrust prevailed over a sense of duty. No one wanted to interfere, no one wanted to incur the wrath of Andreas Gruber. Everyone preferred to pretend that nothing had happened, hoping that the storm would pass them by.
And outside the window, in the night darkness, stood the old oak, a witness to many generations of Groben residents. Its branches, like bony fingers, reached towards the sky, and its leaves rustled, as if whispering words of warning. But no one heard them.
Soon, the inn «At the Old Oak» was filled with noise and fun again. The musicians played a new melody, people began to dance, and life seemed to return to normal. But beneath the mask of merriment hid fear and anxiety. Everyone felt that something was wrong, that a dark shadow hung over Groben, which was soon to engulf this quiet and peaceful corner of Bavaria.
The villagers, despite the quarrel in the inn and the anxiety hanging over them, still clung to the hope of a better future, believed that the economic difficulties and the ominous shadow of Andreas Gruber would soon pass. Deep down, each of them cherished the dream of returning to the former calm and measured life, when they could not fear for their loved ones and not flinch at every night rustle. They continued to work diligently in the fields, hoping for a good harvest, prayed in the church, asking for God’s protection, and tried not to think about the bad.
It was in this contradictory atmosphere, in the quiet Bavarian village of Groben, far from big cities and noisy highways, where hope flickered, but fear was brewing, that the tragedy of the Hinterkaifeck farm unfolded. It burst into their lives like a bolt from the blue, destroying the illusion of safety and peace, and shocked not only little Groben, but all of Germany with its cruelty and mystery. Rumors of the brutal murder, of innocent victims, of evil that had settled in the heart of Bavarian land, spread with the speed of a forest fire, sowing panic and horror.
The Hinterkaifeck tragedy forever changed the lives of the residents of Groben. The trust and good neighborliness that had been the basis of their existence for so long were destroyed.
Neighbors began to look at each other with suspicion, fearing that a real monster might be hiding behind the mask of a respectable resident. Fear settled in their hearts, preventing them from sleeping peacefully at night. And even after years, when the wounds from the tragedy had healed a little, the memory of Hinterkaifeck continued to live in every house, reminding them of how fragile life is and how easily it can be destroyed. This tragedy left an indelible mark on the history of this small, unremarkable corner of Bavaria, turning it from a symbol of tranquility and peace into a symbol of horror and mystery, which has never been solved to the end.
Not so much the rumors of crime and lawlessness, of hyperinflation and famine, reaching them from the big cities – these news items came in fragmented pieces, as if someone was trying to tell about a nightmare but could not find the words – as much as the inexplicable, chilling fear hanging in the air, made people flinch at every rustle and lock their doors tightly