Hólgángan
There was once a young man who relentlessly begged the famous Reverend Eiríkur to let him tag along on one of his mysterious Saturday night excursions. Eiríkur, knowing his own dark dealings, refused the boy for a long time, warning him that he would get absolutely nothing good out of the experience. But the young man was stubborn and kept pestering the priest until Eiríkur finally relented and promised to take him along one day.
Sometime later, on a beautifully clear and bright evening, the priest told the young man it was time. They walked together out into the homefield until they reached a prominent hill. Eiríkur drew a wand and struck the side of the mound.
Instantly, the earth opened up. An older woman stepped out from the hill, greeted Eiríkur like an old friend, and warmly invited him inside. A younger woman followed, offering the same invitation to the terrified but curious young man.
The two men followed the women into the hill and entered a grand, raised living hall. The room was packed with people sitting quietly in a circle. Eiríkur and the young man took the very last seats near the doorway, with Eiríkur sitting just inside of his companion. A heavy, unnatural silence hung over the room. No one spoke a single word, which made the young man's skin crawl.
Suddenly, the two women left the room. When they returned a moment later, they were carrying a large wooden trough and a heavy knife.
They walked straight over to the man sitting furthest away on the opposite side of the door. Without a word, they grabbed him, bent him over the trough, and slit his throat as calmly as if they were slaughtering a sheep. Then, they moved to the next person in line and did the exact same thing.
The young man watched in absolute horror as the women moved methodically down the row. What was most terrifying was the silence—not a single victim fought back, tried to defend themselves, or made a sound as they were killed. The young man glanced at Eiríkur, but the priest sat perfectly still, completely unfazed by the gruesome scene unfolding in front of them.
It soon became agonizingly clear that the women were not going to stop until every single person in the room was dead. Finally, they reached Eiríkur. They grabbed the priest, dragged him to the trough, and cut his throat just like the rest.
Unable to contain his terror any longer, the young man let out a bloodcurdling scream. He leaped to his feet, bolted out the door of the hill, and ran back toward the farm as fast as his legs could carry him, absolutely convinced he was running for his life.
Gasping for breath, he finally reached the doors of the farmhouse—only to stop dead in his tracks.
Standing leisurely in the doorway, leaning against the frame with a wide smirk on his face, was Reverend Eiríkur.
"Why are you running so frantically, my good fellow?" Eiríkur asked.
The young man stood there, completely speechless and flushing with deep embarrassment. He suddenly realized that none of the horrific events in the hill had been real; the cunning priest had simply cast a powerful sjónhverfing (magical illusion) over him.
Eiríkur chuckled softly and said, "I figured as much, my good lad. I knew you wouldn't have the stomach to actually see anything."
Original text
(M. G.)
Einu sinni bað únglíngsmaður sèra Eirík, að lofa sèr að fara með honum eitt laugardagskvöld, er prestur hvarf frá bænum. Prestur skoraðist leingi undan því, og sagði, hann mundi ekki hafa mikil not af því. Maðurinn sókti því fastar á, og hèt Eiríkur loksins, að verða við bón hans einhvern tíma. Nokkru síðar fer prestur og tekur manninn með sèr. Þá var veður fagurt og bjart. Þeir geingu út á túnið að hól einum. Prestur slær sprota á hólinn. Lýkst hann þá upp, og kemur þar út kona, roskin. Hún heilsaði Eiríki kompanlega, og bauð honum inn. Þar kom og út stúlka, úngleg, og bauð hún fylgdarmanni prests inn. Þeir gjörðu svo, og komu í baðstofu. Hún var bygð á palli, og sat þar fjöldi manna allt í kríng. Þeir Eiríkur sátu yztir við dyr öðru megin, og Eiríkur þó innar. Einginn talaði hèr orð frá munni, og þókti fylgdarmanni prests það kynlegt. Konurnar geingu út báðar, og komu inn aptur að lítilli stundu liðinni. Höfðu þær þá hníf og trog í hendi sèr, og geingu að hinum yzta manni hinu megin við dyrnar. Tóku þær hann, og lögðu niður við trogið, og skáru hann í það, eins og kind. Síðan tóku þær þann næsta, og svo hvern að öðrum eptir röðinni, og fór alt á sömu leið. Einginn reyndi til að verja sig, og allir þögðu. Ekki sást það á Eiríki, að hann kipti sèr upp við þetta, en nóg þókti fylgdarmanni hans um. Sá hann, að þær mundu ekki ætla að hætta, kvennsurnar, fyr en allir væru skornir; því þegar þær komu að Eiríki, tóku þær hann og skáru, eins og hina. Þá æpti maðurinn upp, tók til fótanna, hljóp á dyr og komst út. Hljóp hann þá heim til bæjarins, og þóktist eiga fótum fjör að launa. En þegar hann kom að bæjardyrum, stóð Eiríkur prestur í dyrunum, og studdi höndum á dyradróttina. Hann brosti við, þegar hann sá manninn, og segir: „Því hleypur þú svona ákaflega, heillin?“ Maðurinn vissi ekkert, hvað hann átti að segja; því nú skammaðist hann sín, af því hann sá nú, að prestur mundi hafa gjört sèr sjónhverfíngu. Þá segir Eiríkur: „Eg hugsaði það altènd, heillin góð, að þú mundir ekki mega sjá neitt.“
