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Dreams . . . They were just dreams, I kept telling myself. Although, in the back of my mind, I knew I had seen that same castle from a forlorn memory. Clasps of lightning and echoes of thunder cascaded through my mind, making me dizzy as I remembered each detail. Everything was so vivid that I managed to take out my ink and pen to sketch it all out in my journal. The overhanging lamp flickered and jumbled around as the carriage rolled over the uneven, disheveled cobblestone. Not every man could manage to carry on into this strange journey. My guide, a cranky old man, grumbled to himself as he continued to steer the horses.
The man looked to the sky and sneered, "Mi'lady, we'll have to stop here soon if the storm gets worse. Don't want my horses . . . Poor suckers . .. to get struck now, do we?"
Shouting over the thunder, I asked from the window, "Why couldn't we use a car to drive up here? It would've been faster." Cursing, the man let out a puff from his cigar and huffed, "Look 'ere, ma'am, I already told ya . . . The master of these lands despise the scent of gasoline, so we gotta do our best to please our glorious benefactor to protect our city."
Sighing, I pressed back into the seated cushions and took out my journal that contained my art history: Architecture notes. I didn't want to leave home, but I needed to venture out to acquire new information for my studies. My professors were adamant that I go on an "eye-awakening adventure" to acquire my MFA (Master of Fine Arts) degree and write something new and exciting for research purposes. Well, I couldn't decline their excellent, traveling abroad opportunity where the art department took care of all the costs. Sighing and missing home, I took out my phone and wanted to call my roommate to ask if my pet was doing okay . . . Low and behold, I had no cellular service, of course. Traveling by carriage, rolling through a creepy forest with a dark castle in the near distance as a storm brewed in . . . I was regretting every moment of this. I didn't want to be caught in a horror movie.
Feeling scared, I thought to strike up a conversation with the driver and asked, "You mentioned a benefactor? Does he live here by chance? On Google Maps, they said this one was abandoned." The old man snickered, "We believe so, yes, that he lives here, but no one has ever seen the man. Maybe it's because no one has survived the journey back to the village to tell the tale. A mystery befalls the castle. There's rumors . . . gruesome rumors."
Curiosity got the best of me, so I asked what kind of rumors, but the driver shook his head, saying, "I'll leave it up to ya to find out. Might be a great mystery for ya to focus on . . . or whatever you youngsters get into these days." There was a pause, and he glanced up to the sky, "The storm seems to be lightening up, but there's a heavy fog rolling in . . . I'm not sure if you want to continue or stop at a nearby village." I handed him a wad of cash and instructed him to press on. It's been a grueling day, and I wanted to get my research over with. I wanted to get home as soon as possible. The eerie weather from staying in this country dampened my mood. I hadn't seen the sun in so long.
Wolves howled in the distance and a heaviness had set in . . . A queasy feeling made me realize that I was about to embark on an adventure that I could never come back from. Using my phone, I zoomed in on the castle and locked onto a figure in the window. A candle highlighted the figure of a tall man.
It wasn't abandoned, after all.
Shaking under the pressure of feeling, actually being watched by this mysterious benefactor, I snapped the picture of the figure . . . just because. I called out to the driver, "Hey, I got a picture of him, I believe? Someone is living there after all!" Then, my phone sparked and turned completely black. Trying to bring it back to life, I smacked it a bunch of times, harder thinking it was just a glitch. Wrong. It was absurdly fried. Dead. Never to rise again. I felt my life had been tied to that phone that held all of my possessions. Letting out a deep sigh and continuing to stare out the window to peer at the castle, I could still see the figure. I knew I wasn't having hallucinations . . . unless he was a ghost!? No, that would be silly. The dark figure became clearer as day the closer we traveled up and over a cobblestone bridge.
Well, I hoped this man or whatever that person was in the window had a phone or a charger port available. How else was I going to go home without my phone working? The travel back home was going to be boring as hell if I couldn't play my Candy Crush Saga!
The fog had settled and the rain pitter-pattered on the broken stones and flooded the dirt pathway. It wasn't much longer until we reached the roundabout grand entrance.
An abandoned fountain and blades of weeds adorned the castle’s grounds. The moonlight highlighted the archway that hung over the main entrance. A sparkle caught my eye as I peered at dragon-carved knockers on the doors.
As the driver came to a stop that stood mere inches away from a grand, victorian-like overhang, I made a note in my journal to sketch out the dragon door knockers later . . . OR after I get my phone charged, I could save the time and snap a picture real quick! That’s the plan!
“Here ya go, ma’am. I’m guessin’ you got yourself a sleeping bag, I see? I gotta go back to a nearby village for the night,” the driver said as he opened the door of the carriage. I jumped out, struggled to put on my backpack, and tugged on my suitcase, huffing, and puffing.
“Yeah, I think. . . MMMHHH . . . Ahhhh . . . I think I got everything. How will I contact you when I need a ride back?” I asked and rolled my suitcase on the wet stones.
The old man shut the carriage door, stepped back onto the driver’s seat, and took hold of the reigns. Chuckling, he said, “You’ll know how if you survive.”
Giving him a stinky eye and pouted lips, “DUDE! What the f—k does that mean!?”
He shrugged and whistled at the horses, whipping them to take off and “escape” from the castle’s grounds. The fog grew heavy and I was left there stranded under the overhang.
Panic weighed heavily on my heart as I remembered that I had NO survival skills.
Calming my mind, I took a breath. There was no turning back. I couldn’t run out into the rain to stop the old man. All I could do was continue forward, to complete my quest. I stared out into the horizon and lightning clashed and thunder shook the ground. Terrified, I twirled on my heels to face the front door . . .
Suddenly, there was no door. Just a tall figure standing and looking over me. I had my hand raised before to knock on the door, but now it’s just hanging awkwardly in the air. Gulping, I felt my hairs stand on end as electricity pulsed around me and the figure.
Taking a small moment of courage, I raised my head all the way up hesitantly as my neck started to strain.
My nerves set ablaze as I stared into the eyes of crimson hell. The figure was an alluring man, pale as snow, swept back hair as black as night, lips plump yet held a bluish hue with veins striking through.
His eyes glowed and trailed down my figure and stared back into my eyes, nodding his head and seeming pleased, yet displeased at the same time.
There was a loud gulp from me that filled the silence as raindrops trailed down my forehead and chin and into the valley of my breasts. What the hell was I supposed to say? My thoughts were jumbled, and my tongue was tied. I felt hypnotized.
I didn’t want to look or sound dumb, but all I could mutter was, “Hey?”
Yep, I failed. I was an absolute mess.
The man smirked and sharp canines were revealed. He didn’t say a word but leaned down into my personal bubble. I wanted to back up, but my feet seemed to be glued to the floor.
What did I get myself into?