"Grimstone Castle" Night was falling like a damp, suffocating cloak as a battered campervan swung into the sweeping entrance to Grimstone Castle, lit by a shaft of sepia moonlight. Fat, icy raindrops started to lash down on the windscreen and the wind’s howling jaws were savagely ripping the remaining few gashed and bruised leaves from the skeletal oak trees, which lined the cobbled driveway. As the Ferrara family clambered anxiously out of the camper, the castle’s ethereal barn owl shrilly hooted an ominous welcome. Her saucer eyes looked menacing as she swivelled her translucent snowy head from her gargantuan perch on top of a monstrous, ivy clad gargoyle. As James turned the latch, the gnarled timber door slowly creaked open like an arthritic old man and a dank smell coiled around them. He flicked on his torch to reveal a gloomy stone hallway and floor sprayed with silver snail graffiti. Jenny followed anxiously behind her husband with their twelve year old son Harley. After a candlelit supper by the fireplace, the family zipped themselves into their cosy sleeping bags and soon James and Jenny were fast asleep. Harley, however, had other ideas. Armed with a small oil lamp, he headed off into the darkness. As he climbed the creaky stairs to the turret, he was momentarily startled as a black kitten with luminous green eyes jumped out in front of him. Although it had a friendly face there was something about his new feline friend that made him feel slightly uneasy. Nevertheless, he was determined to venture on. After a tense fifteen minutes or so, the creature came to an abrupt halt outside a foreboding looking door in the turret and started to mew. Harley took a deep breath and cautiously turned the handle. The kitten flew into the room and Harley followed behind, clutching the lamp tightly. To his sheer disbelief, the ghostly figure of an old Victorian woman wearing a black dress and veil hovered in the centre of the room. Below her, was a four poster bed where a little girl appeared to be sleeping peacefully. Harley pinched himself. Suddenly, the air around him froze, the oil lamp flickered and the old woman cackled like a witch. Her whole demeanour had abruptly changed. Harley noticed that she was now clutching a dagger in her left hand and floating towards him. Her veil had disappeared to reveal a hideous toothless hag with long, shocking white hair which was on fire. As he tried to flee, smoke filled the room and a ring of hissing, Medusa like flames engulfed the wall around the door, which slammed shut in his face. The terrified child screamed blue murder, yet not a sound left his lips. A minute later, the flames mysteriously vanished but hot ashes smothered the floor. With tears streaming down his petrified face, he hammered on the door until the bones on his knuckles were visible. The sun was now beginning to filter through the immense oval stained glass window, as Harley finally plucked up the courage to look round. The woman and cat had vanished but the girl was still asleep. She appeared to be about 8 years old, had a radiant, cherubic face and curly golden hair. Harley thought she looked like an angel and breathed a sigh of relief before quickly recoiling in abject horror: lying on the pillow was a grotesque, severed mummified head. It’s contorted, gaping mouth was crawling with rotting maggots and the stench of death sucked the air from Harley’s lungs. With a racing heart, he suddenly awoke and his eyes snapped open. The relief on his face was insurmountable. It had been a bad dream. Jenny was tenderly stroking his hair and wiping the sweat from his feverish brow. Neither of them had noticed the kitten sitting at the end of Harley’s sleeping bag, licking her blood stained paws. One day in early spring, Harley was exploring the castle gardens when he came across a disused well. As he peered inside, his body suddenly lurched forward and the...... Continue Reading ===>>>shortstorylovers/grimstone-castle-2/
Posted on: Thu, 18 Jul 2013 08:30:00 +0000
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