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A Short Story : A Story?

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It was a beautiful day in the village. The forest flourished with lush, green trees filled with life. The town square was bustling due to the weekly market that takes place there. Vika was 6 when the first disturbance occurred. She was playing at home with her dolls when it happened. She heard it. Felt it, too. The ground shook and there was a mighty crash. She raced to the town square to find her mama, only to find out that the entire village was already there. They gathered in a circle in the center. The air was full of suspense and tension. Another bigger crash occurred. It seemed as though it was coming from the other side of the wall that surrounded the village. People waited. Minutes turned into hours. After it became clear that there wouldn't be another crash, the villagers stepped cautiously out of the circle of protection they had formed.
“Mama, mama. What was that?” Vika asked tugging her mother’s shirt, full of curiosity.
“I don’t know, sweetie. Anyways, it’s not important. Hurry along now.” Vika’s mother replied, her face full of worry.

The disturbances kept happening over the next three years and everyone just became neutral towards it. Vika’s father, however, looked more and more restless as the disturbances kept occurring. One town meeting, he steps up to the pedestal.
“I’m going to find out what’s behind that wall,” he declares. Murmurs met this declaration.
Vika's mother lunged forward but was held back by two of their neighbors. As she thrashed,

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