As the pale blue moon shines over Lakewood Forest while the thunder rolling and crashing in the evening skies with the heavy-down pour rain falling upon the earth as if it’s screaming. Harold and John are cantering along the forest to elude from the rain and thunder but there’s no refuge in that old and decaying forest! Yet, within an hour of cantering and seeking for refuge from the thunder and rain they abruptly endow themselves in a battered, crumpling watch tower at the midst of the forest. They both unbolted the massive and aging doors of the watch tower. As they ramble inside the interior of the watch tower. They noticed at first the entrance of the watch tower was tiny but spacious. As they barren inside the entrance of the watch tower there was a cramped hearth in the marrow of the watch tower and at the top right ridge from the hearth there was some enfeebled logs. John was the first to trek to the enfeebled logs and he endows some dusty, ragged, and repossessed candles with some repossessed and usable matches. John told Harold to come and gather some logs for the hearth while he lights some candles. As Harold sets up the hearth with the logs while John is looking for something to start the fire…John stumbles over a shattered journal with some ragged pages and some other pieces of paper around the journal. So, John gives the loose pages and the other pieces of paper to Harold to light the hearth while John starts reading the journal’s cover. All of sudden, Harold says, “The rain and thunder has stopped and there’s a mended stone stairs on the left side of the room but its dribbling with water from the rain.” Then, John intrudes by saying, “Did you know Harold that we’re inside Lord Richmond Le Blanc’s Watch Tower?!” “You mean the same watch tower that was stormed two and half centuries ago by the Turks and no one survived?” murmured Harold. “Yes!” said John, “it’s also the same watch tower that everyone in the village says its purpose to be haunted by Lore Richmond and his knights.” Harold’s eyes got wider and he is quivering now yet neither from the cold nor the rain but with fright and horror because he knows the stories about Lord Richmond Le Blanc’s Watch Tower! In fact, both Harold and John knows the stories about how the watch tower came to be, why the watch tower is seated in the midst of the forest, how everyone including Lord Le Blanc met their demise, and especially, all the stories of the watch tower being haunted. Harold shrieks out to John, “Is this place haunted by the ghost of Lord Richmond and his knights?!” “…compose yourself Harold!” smoothly John says. The stories we have heard so many times when we were children are just stories made-up from the past two hundred years from the folklore and legend of Lord Richmond Le Blanc’s Watch Tower. You actually believe in those stories about this old and decaying watch tower is haunted by Lord Richmond and his knights?! The story goes, “at the stroke of midnight of every night anyone 50 miles from any direction of this watch tower can hear Lord Richmond and his knights yelling out and screeching even during a blustering thunder and lightning storm…” John calmly says to Harold, “its past midnight now and do you hear any yelling and screeching?!” Abruptly, all the candles blew out and even the fire in the hearth went out…then, the doors slam wide open and from the mended stone stairs John and Harold heard a yell “…the Turks, the Turks are here!” Within few seconds later, Harold and John can see a ghastly scene a front of them from the mended stone stairs to the watch tower’s entrance. Harold and John can observe in the dimness of the room an immense gathering of dark skin men wearing white, wet, dirty, and slit clothing from their heads to their toes and half of their faces were masked with the same clothing and they were all cling to blood stain draggers and swords while they were advancing towards the mended stone stairs…at which, the mended stone stairs were crammed with pale skin, blood-spattered men with their clothing slit, dirty, and wet with blood and sweat and they were all gawking at their enemies with eyes of retaliation and pique from the nadir to the summit of the stairs!
Posted on: Tue, 16 Dec 2014 20:31:35 +0000
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