The downpour slashed at me like dull knives as I struggled forwards, my steps becoming weaker and more labored with each passing second. My car had broken down many miles back, the thick, secluded forest not the least bit welcoming.
I continued trudging along the trail, the pitch blackness enveloping my body as i synched my hood tighter, desperate for relief from the hellish sheets of rain still battering against my face.
I looked up, and saw, to my astonishment, down the trail in a large clearing of trees, a castle.
With renewed vigor, my lifeless trek became a sprint through the mud as I reached the massive structure. Dark gray stones, artfully laid by a bricklayer, reached for the clouds as the faint illuminations of barely lit torches revealed their significant age.
How long had this castle been here?
A dull orange hue projecting from one of the windows gave me hope as I picked up the heavy, metal knocker and drove it into the wooden panels of the ornately carved door. I stepped back and waited.
Nothing.
Agitated and desperate for a respite from the weather, I stepped forwards once more, and resumed my knocking. Please, let there be someone, anyone, to help me.
The door jolted, the thick metal hinges squeaked awkwardly in protest as the door lumbered backwards, revealing a small, thin, dark figure. I squinted to better ascertain the features.
A young woman, perhaps twenty five.
Her face was ashen white, a shade of pale so deathly anemic it could’ve passed for a mannequin or a medical cadaver. A large, black, wide brimmed hat, ordained with floral decoration, rested on top of her voluptuous head of brown hair. A fishnet veil partially obscured her wrinkle-free face as thick red lips shined from a coat of freshly applied lip gloss. A long, tightly fitted black dress rested underneath a bulky leather corset, the laces weaving themselves elegantly up her back. Glossy, stiletto heeled leather boots snaked up her legs, the toes on each coming to a sharp point. Long gloves, matching the boots in appearance, completed an outfit adequately suited for a funeral procession.
She studied me intently, her dark eyes looking me up and down, as if to size me up.
“Hey… I’m really sorry to bother you…” I began, each word broken by an exhausted pant, “I broke down several miles back that way, and uh… do you have a phone I could borrow?” Her eyes narrowed as she stepped away from the faint lighting provided by the torches.
“Please, come in.” Her voice was a moderate, youthful feminine pitch. She stepped aside and gestured for me to enter. The same shade of orange that emanated from the windows peaked through the door frame, as if to hand me an invitation. I accepted, ducking beneath the low doorway.
A tight, confided foyer greated me as the woman softly shut the door behind me. The walls were constructed of a rich ebony wood, the black varnish reflecting little light from the torches mounted on them. I found, rather bizarrely, that there seemed to be no decoration. No hanging portraits to gaze at, no furniture to rest oneself, not even a rug or a side table. Just dull, black walls.
It felt like a prison.
“What should I refer to you as?” The woman said as she slipped ahead of me.
“You mean my name?”
“Precisely.”
“It’s Dave.”
“Ah… Dave. Dave. Hmm. I don’t enjoy how that rolls off my tongue. It feels rather intolerable.” She turned back to face me, trapping me in the foyer.
“Oh… I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to offend.” I stammered, puzzled by her reaction.
“I think I’ll call you David, instead. I’m Elizabeth.” She said, turning her back as quickly as the word exited her mouth. I stood there, wondering if I should follow. After a few seconds, I resumed my march, my face illuminated every few steps by the warm, orange blaze of the torches. I followed her down a narrow hallway until we entered the dining area.
A massive, ornately carved wooden table rested in the center of the room. The rest of the room was dingy and dusty, as if it had been unoccupied for decades. I caught a brief glimpse of a spider churning a web in the corner of the room, before scurrying out of sight underneath the floorboards.
Suddenly, a cold shock hit my neck as icy fingers caressed my skin.
“Your neck is so very supple.” She said, her eyes staring intently into mine. Her long, grown out fingernails gently scraped against my skin as I jerked back reflexively. She licked her lips with a constrained, yet ravenous intensity.
“Uhh… thanks!” I backpedaled away, feeling uncomfortable and unwelcome. Maybe the rain outside would’ve been better.
“Hey, can I use your phone now?” I asked, circling back to my original intent. I wanted to leave as quickly as possible.
“What is this you speak of?” She turned her head, genuinely puzzled by the routine inquiry.
“A phone? The thing you use to call people?”
“Ah yes of course! Unfortunately, it’s inoperable.” Just great. What a waste of time.
“Oh… well I should probably get going then. Thank you for your… hospitality!”
“Refrain from leaving! I have a bed for you! You’ll be made quite comfortable, I assure you!”
“No, I’m alright! Thank you!”
“I’m sorry, did I frighten you? That was not my intent!” She reassured me as she removed her hat and veil, revealing a face of striking, flawless beauty. She placed the accessories on the dining table as she removed her long leather gloves.
“No, it’s not that.” My back slammed into the wall, pellets of dust landing on my shoulders and hair.
“I could open a bottle of wine. Does this interest you?” She folded her hands in her lap.
“Ok… sure.” I acquiesced, hoping that she would leave me an opportunity to escape.
“Marvelous!” She clapped her hands together as she purposefully walked into the adjacent room. As soon as she was out of sight, I sprinted out of the dining room, down the hall, and into the foyer. The front door beckoned to me. My outstretched arms found the engraved metal knob and turned it sharply. The squeaky hinges disengaged as the door slowly swung open, the rain still pouring mightily.
I walked out into the damp night sky, and began to hear a sound, a squeaky sound from off in the distance. I saw something odd approaching me. Little black specs that I couldn’t make out at first. They seemed to be getting closer with every flash of lightning. Without warning, a cacophony of slimey bats surrounded me, their wings scraping and cutting my face. I screamed, flailing my arms around aimlessly as I instinctively withdrew back into the castle.
“Elizabeth!” I shouted as I slammed the door shut. I heard high heels clacking on wood getting louder as I sagged against the door.
“Yes?” She questioned, a glass of wine resting in her hand.
“What the fuck was that?”
“What the fuck was what?” The curse seemed foreign to her, sounding like a toddler learning how to pronounce a new word.
“Bats! There was fucking bats out there and they attacked me!” I simply shouted. I snatched the wine from her hand and guzzled it without thinking. I needed a drink after the night I’d had. The flavor of fermented grapes caused my taste buds to tingle. The sensation immediately pushed the bats out of my mind.
The wine was amazing.
The absolute best wine I had ever tasted.
“Wow, what is this?” I studied the glass intently.
“I believe it to be a Chateau Margaux, 1787.”
“What?” I was stunned speechless.
“As I just stated, it is a Chateau Margaux, year 1787.” She turned her back. I clammered towards her like a fan chasing a celebrity.
“Oh my god! Do you know how much this is worth?”
“Why do you want to leave?” The bluntness of the subject change caught me flat footed.
“I don’t want to leave!” I finally protested.
“You do. I will grant your wish, but only after you stay the night.” As the words moved past her lips, I felt my knees weakening. The joints buckled as my muscles relaxed. I reached for the wall to steady myself, but crashed down on a heap on the floor. The wineglass in my hand fell, shattering into hundreds of shards as my vision blurred, then faded away.
I awoke in a daze. Pitch blackness surrounded me. My chest constricted in panic. My head turned on a swivel as I attempted to gather my surroundings. I was laying down on a bed, that much I could ascertain. A faint lamp rested on a nightstand to my left. A steering pain awoke me fully as I felt my neck. A horrid burning sensation tore through me, the pain receptors overwhelmed. I pulled back my palm and examined it.
Blood. My blood.
I gasped in shock as I looked downwards; massive puddles of dark red crimson stained the laces of the comforter and pillows. I stood up, the sticky substance peeling at my clothes. The bedroom, like the rest of the house, was barren and utterly void of personality.
I crept to the bedroom door and opened it, the loud squeak breaking the silence. The rain outside continued its muffled tapping on the roof as I looked down the pitch black hallway.
Nothing.
Swallowing the lump in my throat, I tiptoed into the darkness, each weakened step inviting its own heart-stopping creek of the wooden floorboards. After several agonizing moments of tension, I arrived at a descending staircase. I stood still, staring at the railing, expecting something to jump out at me. Was I upstairs? Downstairs? I couldn’t be sure, as I had seen only a brief snippet of the castle’s layout. What had Elizabeth put in my wine to cause me to lose consciousness so suddenly?
These thoughts swirled in my head like a tornado as I began my long descent downwards. The stairs were old and wooden, the walls on either side closing in as claustrophobia set in. The darkness was so pervasive I couldn’t see my own hand in front of my face.
After what felt like an eternity later, I reached the end of the stairs. My hand fumbled for a light switch, but instead found a flimsy pull string. I yanked on it; a dim, yellow bulb illuminated my surroundings.
A rounded stone slab rested in the center of the room. Numerous strange etchings and hieroglyphs were embellished in the rock. The entire top of the stone was soaked in a rich burgundy red, some lines running off the sides and puddling onto the ground beside it.
To my right, another long hallway stretched out as far as I could see. Caged, cell-like doors ran alongside each wall parallel to each other. Trash strewn about the filth covered cement flooring. I heard a sound coming from the first room on the left, the cell door slightly ajared.
“Is someone down here? Please help me!” A woman wept, undoubtedly hearing the boisterous commotion I was causing. My heart stopped. I stood and listened intently.
“Please help!” The scream jolted me. Without thinking, I immediately ran over to the room and looked inside. On the bed, a woman. Her arms and legs were bound by rope, her shirt and pants ripped and torn. Her terror filled eyes locked onto me, the rims reddened by crying. Two small bloody holes bore themselves deep into her neck, narrow red rivers trickling out of both of them. Her mouth moved, as if she was trying to voice something to me.
“What?” I asked. I stepped fully into the room.
“She’s…”
“What?”
“She’s under the bed.” My blood ran cold as my eyes slowly lowered. There, laying down in the prone position, was… something.
Alien…
Inhuman…
White, wrinkled flesh pulsated with its heartbeat, the eyes a glowing, volcanic orange hue. A massive row of teeth adorned its elongated mouth, two of them longer than the others, drenched in fresh blood. The thing hissed angrily like a snake, as if warning me. I couldn’t breathe. My bladder released itself as I backed away, my eyes watering from shock and revulsion as the girl begged me to return.
“No, please! Don’t go!” I shook my head aggressively at her.
“AHHHHHHHH!” A horrendous scream emanated from the thing as it explosively burst upwards through the bed frame, a sea of wooden shards and red geysers painting the walls a sickly shade. My stomach contents rose upwards as I realized, to my horror, the woman had been brutally cut in half.
The demonic thing stood, now covered head to toe in blood. I recognized that hair. It was unmistakable.
The thing was…
Elizabeth.
As if in a feeding frenzy, she squatted down and began lapping at the puddles of blood like a dog from a water bowl. The sickening sounds came to a crescendo as I bolted past the ritual altar, back up the stairs, and onto the upper floor.
Frantically, I searched for an exit. Quick, rapid steps up the stairs behind me, but not bipedal, they were too fast in succession. No, she was on all fours, resembling an animal.
The pitch black hallway was destitute as I careened down it. Finally, I saw the recognizable shade of orange. The torches from the foyer. I sprinted until I reached the front door. I hurriedly pulled the door open, the rain outside now replaced with a thick, dense fog. Against my better judgment, I turned back.
There crouched down on the floor, in her purest form, was the thing named Elizabeth. Her horribly disfigured, wrinkled face was lit faintly by the torches.
She didn’t chase me.
She just sat there, staring at me. I was frozen, expecting her to leap out towards me. But she didn’t make a move, her vampiric taste for blood seemingly quenched. Her nightmare inducing body slowly retreated back into the dark hallway, and slithered back into the nameless dark corridors and back rooms. Perhaps she slid into a closet or underneath another bed to feast on the blood of another unsuspecting traveler when she once again became hungry.
Yet I was not to be her latest victim. I walked down the trail I had taken only an hour before, the fog encircling me eerily but not feeling outright threatening. My hair stood up on end as I continuously checked behind my shoulder.
In a rather anticlimactic fashion, I safely reached my broken down car, and eventually got a tow truck ride back to civilization. Many hours later, I got home to my apartment which I reside in alone, when I came upon something strange on my kitchen counter.
Am old, leather bound book. The front was free of any title indicating its contents. I flipped it over to the spine.
My heart sank.
Embossed in gold foil…
Elizabeth: The Wicked
My hands trembling, I nervously opened to the first page. It was void of text, yet a note scrawled in flawless cursive adorned the old, yellowing paper. It read…
Dear David…
Your neck was so very supple.
With my warmest regards…
Elizabeth
My throat seized, my breathing stopped. I glanced upwards, and realized to my shock that my kitchen window was open; a cold breeze was blowing in sharp gusts.
A single bat rested on the window pane, the same orange eyes staring deep into my soul. Without a sound, the bat flapped its wings, and disappeared into the night.