Hinterkaifeck

The following is based on a number of sources...

     March 31, 1922.
     Maria Baumgartner stepped out of the silvery vehicle onto the Gruber Farm.  The rain-soaked ground gave way beneath her feet leaving clumps of mud stuck to the side of her boots.  As the northern winds died down, the sun hid behind the evening clouds, which did nothing to warm to the cold air.  A chill ran down Maria's spine as she adjusted her coat.
     "Here you go, ma'am," said the driver, handing her bags to her.
     Maria smiled at him before he left, but the hurried driver did not stay for pleasantries and eased the car off the property, leaving her alone in the cold.
     At 44, single and childless, the only real job left for Maria was housekeeping.  So, she answered an ad in the newspaper, which sought a new maid to perform "motherly" duties.  The ad led her to this farmstead, which was roughly forty miles outside of Munich, Germany.
     As she took in her new surroundings, no one came out to greet her.
     She walked up to the main house with her bags and stopped at the front door, the mud seemed to engulf the entirety of the property right up to the front door.  The dwelling wasn't palatial like other plantation houses she'd worked, but it was still quite sizable.  Although, it could use a fresh coat of paint, she criticized.
     Maria knocked on the front door and waited a few moments before a woman in her thirties opened the door.  Introducing herself as Viktoria, she welcomed Maria inside.  A little girl, who very much resembled Viktoria, stood behind the woman clutching at the adult's dress.
     "And who might you be?" asked Maria.
     The little girl scooted further behind Viktoria using the dress to hide completely.
     "Cazilia," Viktoria chided.  "Come out."
     Cazilia poked her head out from behind the dress with a smile.
     "Cazilia," Maria remarked, "what a beautiful name.  And how old are you?"
     "Seven," Cazilia said shyly, holding seven fingers out to reassure herself of the right number.
     "Seven?" asked Maria.  "Such a big girl for just seven years."
     "Viktoria!" came a gruff shout from somewhere in the house.
     "Coming, Papa," Viktoria meekly answered.  To Maria, she said, "Please, come with me."
     Maria followed Viktoria, little Cazilia following her mother closely, through the house to a large dining room.  The table had been set for dinner and the family had finished with their meal a moment ago.
     "Father," Viktoria addressed the only man at the table.  "This is Maria Baumgartner, the new maid."
     Maria bowed her head toward the grizzled man.  "My apologies, Herr Gruber, for interrupting dinner."
     "Not to worry.  You come just in time to clean up."
     He stood, walked over to one of three archways to the room, and whispered, "Viktoria," gesturing his daughter to follow him.  She complied and they both moved deeper into the dark house, leaving Maria with Little Cazilia, a little boy of the age of two, and an elderly woman, who was sitting silently at the table.
     Maria heard a giggle from Cazilia, who stood near the two-year-old child.  The boy was sitting on the floor playing with a few wooden blocks and mumbling to himself in a language only toddlers could understand.  Cazilia giggled again, and then kicked the boy in the chest sending him to the floor and hitting his head on the wooden floor.
     "Cazilia, no!" scolded Maria.
     The little boy let out a piercing scream before Maria could scoop him up into her arms.  Trying to comfort him, Maria said to Cazilia, "You shouldn't do that, he is but a very small boy."
     Cazilia ran over to one of the archways and, before running off into the darkness of the house, she said in a playful manner, "Josef is going to die.  You are going to die."  And, with a another giggle, she was gone.
     Maria tried her best to calm little Josef, rocking back and forth, bouncing and patting him on the back.  Finally, he settled and she set him back on his blanket on the floor in the corner of the room.
     During this, the other adult in the room sat silently at the dining room table.  She stared at the half-eaten food on her plate, hands tucked underneath a wool blanket.  Maria imagined those hands gnarled and wrinkled, the skin probably paper thin with dark blue veins showing through.  The woman's gray hair was up in a haphazard bun, tufts sprang out here and there.  She wore no make up, but Maria thought it would make no difference on such a wrinkled face.
     "Oh, such wonderful thoughts," thought Maria, "and that on your first day."
     She started cleaning up the dishes and glasses on the table, making a few trips to the kitchen.
     When she got to the elderly woman's plates, a cold, wrinkled and gnarled hand grabbed her's.  The old woman looked Maria directly in the eye, a cold, hard stare by those icy blue eyes.
     "Leave now, while you still can," she warned with a gravelly, drowning voice, the phlegm seemed lodged in her throat.  "Go!"
      Maria, startled, tried to pull away, but the venerable woman's hand seemed as strong as a vice.
     "I.... I can't.  I need the money."
     "His money is no good.  Go, now."
     Maria took back her hand and rubbed it.  "I can't..."
     "Fool."  The old woman slid her hand back underneath the wool blanket and continued to stare down at the table.

Later that night, Maria had a lengthy conversation with Viktoria, especially about the incident with Cazilia and Josef.  Viktoria told the new maid not to worry about it, and that Cazilia was a jealous little girl.  The middle-aged mother also told Maria about the happenings around the farm.  The footprints, which led from the edge of the forest to the farm, but there were none leading back to the forest.  Sometimes, they would hear footsteps in the attic, but Papa would wave it away and reassured them that the house was settling.  A few months ago, Papa found an unfamiliar newspaper on the land, and he didn't know how it got there, or who had left it.  Not to mention the house keys, which went missing a few days ago.  Now, they leave the house unlocked with hopes Papa would get new locks soon.
     A few months ago, their other maid had left because she thought the house and barn were haunted.  Hence, the newspaper ad.  So, since Maria would be staying with the Grubers, Viktoria acquainted the new maid with everyone.  Maria had already met little Cazilia and two-year-old Josef.  Papa's name was Andreas Gruber.  Whatever he wanted or ordered, it must be done without question.  He was the sole supporter and must not be disrespected.  Mama's name was Cazilia, Viktoria's daughter's namesake.  Most of the time, Mama was quiet and did not move much.  Maria was tasked with helping Mama around the house.
     Viktoria showed Maria to her bedchamber, a small room that barely fit a cot and a dresser.
     Exhausted, Maria settled in for the night.

Maria woke with a start.  It was very dark and she wondered on the time.  Lighting the small oil lamp on the nightstand, she felt the sensation of being lost.  It always happened when staying in different places, but she thought she would be used to it already.  She also couldn't shake the feeling of dread.
     As she got her bearings, she heard the sound of metal on wood, like something heavy being dragged across the floor.  She wondered what it could have been and started for her door, but the door slowly swung open to reveal the seven-year-old Cazilia with disheveled hair and a dirty nightgown.
     "Cazilia," said Maria, "what are you doing out of bed?"
     Cazilia didn't say anything.  She dragged a mattock behind her, the heavy pick-ax grinding on the wooden floor.  Without effort, the little girl stepped into the room with the farming tool.
     As she got closer to the light, Maria realized the dirt on her nightgown mingled with blood, which also dotted and matted the little girl's mussed hair.
     With a horrifying scream, Cazilia swung the mattock at Maria's head, embedding the heavy metal point into the new maid's cranium.

Four days later, on April 4, neighbors went to the Gruber Farm because none of them had heard from the family.  When they looked around, they discovered the family murdered.  Investigators observed Andreas Gruber, Viktoria and old Cazilia in the barn, probably lured out one by one before meeting their demise.  Young Josef was dead in his cot in his mother's bedroom.  And Maria, with a hole in her head, laid on the floor in her bedchamber.
     No murder weapon or culprit was found, but autopsies established a mattock had, indeed, been the murder weapon.
     The little girl Cazilia, lying in the straw next to the bodies of her grandparents and mother, probably died of starvation.  The investigators found in her hands tufts of her own torn out hair.