{"id":1733,"date":"2023-10-20T15:34:20","date_gmt":"2023-10-20T14:34:20","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/alexisveenendaal.com\/?p=1733"},"modified":"2024-01-05T22:35:18","modified_gmt":"2024-01-05T21:35:18","slug":"the-bane-of-klaue-castle","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/blog.alexisveenendaal.com\/index.php\/2023\/10\/20\/the-bane-of-klaue-castle\/","title":{"rendered":"The Bane of Klaue Castle"},"content":{"rendered":"\n

The sky was a torrent of unrest as black night settled over the low Victorian valley. Professor Arthur Bainsworth hunched against the pounding rain, his teeth chattering senselessly as he hauled himself up the muddy path.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

He\u2019d missed the last coach, so he\u2019d had to walk the three miles amidst the gale. But opportunities like this were worth a moment of misery.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

A crack of lightning fractured the sky. The domineering castle broke into stark relief, and then darkness plunged over the ancient stone edifice as if it\u2019d never been. There were no lights on inside. Had they forgotten?<\/p>\n\n\n\n

He didn\u2019t think so. He felt the eerie prickle of watching eyes. Arthur shuddered, pushed up his glasses, and clambered up to the towering double doors. The brass knocker with an embossed skull seemed all too apt. He raised it with clammy effort and let it drop. It clanged dully, then\u2013 <\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u2013Was it just him, or did the whole castle shake?<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The clang echoed for half a second when, all too quickly, a slim figure appeared through a dim crack in the doorway. \u201cHello.\u201d Her voice was as hollow as her frame, making Arthur think at once of a caged bird. She stared at him like a meal to a starving man. \u201cDo come in, Professor,\u201d she said before he could stammer any introductions. Her pale blue eyes flicked up and past his shoulder. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

Arthur turned back, but there was only the night-laden valley. He followed her inside, dripping through the foyer.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Ancient.<\/em> It was the first word that came to mind. Exposed stone jutted beneath layers of old cobwebs, and faded tapestries carpeted the walls along the stairs, followed by a domineering portrait at the top flight\u2013a young man staring his nose down at Arthur.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Arthur was about to say something, then stopped. The young woman was gone, though he hadn\u2019t heard her leave. It was as though the castle itself absorbed her into its depths.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

An odd feeling churned at the base of his stomach. He scratched the back of his neck. \u201cH-hello?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

A throat cleared behind him. Arthur whirled. The girl had vanished, but a much larger, imposing figure stood at a doorway. \u201cProfessor Bainsworth. Welcome.\u201d The man\u2019s voice was lower than a growl, like the first swelling note of a wolf\u2019s howl. It sounded anything but welcoming.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

But Arthur\u2019s decorum ran marrow-deep, sprouting, undaunted, past his discomfort. He wiped his damp hand on his damper trousers and held it out. His fingers trembled slightly. \u201cIt\u2019s good to meet you. Mister Klaue? Your daughter let me in.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Klaue tilted his head, then let a faint curve touch his thin lips. \u201cDaughter-in-law.\u201d The way he said it made Arthur shudder again. Mr Klaue didn\u2019t shake Arthur\u2019s hand but turned and gestured for him to follow.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Arthur could have sworn there\u2019d been no light inside the house, but now, he stepped into a sitting room packed with old sofas \u2013 he guessed a decades\u2019 worth of dust coating each surface \u2013 and there was a popping fire inside the granite fireplace.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Arthur shivered, feeling the dampness more in the presence of such heat. He sidled closer, but it was one of those bone-seeping chills that even a roaring fire couldn\u2019t sate.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Klaue was suddenly at his shoulder. Arthur jumped. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cA brandy. For the cold.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cYou, uh, read my mind, sir,\u201d Arthur gave a nervous chuckle as he took the glass. This, at least, seemed to lack the grime of untouched years. Surely someone didn\u2019t live here? But, that young lady looked as though she\u2019d never seen the sun. Arthur held the drink up to the firelight. The liquid beamed crimson. He drained the glass, his eyes watering. It buzzed at the back of his eyes as he tried to reinsert why he\u2019d come. \u201cThis artefact,\u201d he began. \u201cIn the letter, your son mentioned it was quite delicate, requiring the care of an academic.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

He turned back; it seemed Klaue\u2019s large frame took up the entire doorway, now. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

Arthur berated his tired wits. The man couldn\u2019t have grown in the last two minutes. Yet, he couldn\u2019t shake the feeling. \u201cIs your\u2026 son here?\u201d <\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cUnder the weather.\u201d Klaue\u2019s glittering eyes pulled Arthur\u2019s gaze to the ceiling.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Another crack of lightning outside. It split the sky, then vanished as though swallowed up.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Right. Time to hurry this along. \u201cAh, well. If you don\u2019t mind showing me yourself?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cYou\u2019re thirty-one?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

At Arthur\u2019s blank stare, Klaue brushed a hand in the air. \u201cYour age, Professor.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cYes.\u201d His voice sounded thin.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cMy son w\u2013is thirty-one.\u201d Klaue pushed off the wall and gestured again for Arthur to follow.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Arthur rubbed his eyes under his glasses to blink away the blurriness. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

A white figure moved in his periphery.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

He froze. Blinked furiously. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

It was just the white curtain, hanging limp and moth-eaten over the window. Blast it. You\u2019re an educated man, Arthur Bainsworth. Stop jumping at imagined ghosts. <\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cComing?\u201d Klaue called at the same moment thunder shook the castle. It vibrated through the very bones of the structure.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Arthur stepped back into the foyer. Klaue was gone. But he\u2019d just heard\u2013<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u2013A growl, like a bow drawn over a hellish violin. Then, a high-pitched scream. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

Arthur threw his hands over his ears and leapt back as something dropped from the ceiling. A white figure dropped from the chandelier with a horrible crack, flopping in front of Arthur\u2019s face like a wriggling worm on a line. Arthur screamed in horror as the dangling body twisted inexorably to face him. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

It was the girl, her face frozen in a rictus of unbridled agony. Her eyes were holes\u2013gouged from their sockets\u2013and a silver chain looped around her purple-mottled neck.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Any communication his brain had with his limbs was severed. Arthur stood in mute terror. But then, somewhere deep in his muddled mind came a sharp reminder, seemingly out of place, but Arthur knew he couldn\u2019t ignore it. The artefact.<\/em> Somehow, he knew it was the key. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

Arthur shook himself and tore up the stairs just as the eyeless corpse began to squirm from her glinting collar. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

\"\"<\/figure>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

A white figure moved in his periphery.
\nHe froze. Blinked furiously.\u00a0
\nIt was just the white curtain, hanging limp and moth-eaten over the window. Blast it. You\u2019re an educated man, Arthur Bainsworth. Stop jumping at imagined ghosts.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":2,"featured_media":1795,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"episode_type":"","audio_file":"","cover_image":"","cover_image_id":"","duration":"","filesize":"","date_recorded":"","explicit":"","block":"","filesize_raw":"","footnotes":""},"categories":[4,341],"tags":[224,339,334,337,336,229,242,335,80,340,338],"series":[],"class_list":["post-1733","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-fiction","category-scary","tag-fiction","tag-ghosts","tag-gothic","tag-halloween","tag-haunted-house","tag-horror","tag-magic","tag-scary","tag-short-story","tag-spooky","tag-werewolf"],"episode_featured_image":"https:\/\/blog.alexisveenendaal.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2023\/10\/Wix-Blog-Images-1Artboard-4.png","episode_player_image":"https:\/\/blog.alexisveenendaal.com\/wp-content\/plugins\/seriously-simple-podcasting\/assets\/images\/no-album-art.png","download_link":"","player_link":"","audio_player":false,"episode_data":{"playerMode":"dark","subscribeUrls":{"amazon":{"key":"amazon","url":"https:\/\/music.amazon.ca\/podcasts\/09c34bbc-b359-49af-a286-31830ed5634c\/short-stories","label":"Amazon","class":"amazon","icon":"amazon.png"},"apple_podcasts":{"key":"apple_podcasts","url":"https:\/\/podcasts.apple.com\/us\/podcast\/short-stories\/id1621456328","label":"Apple Podcasts","class":"apple_podcasts","icon":"apple-podcasts.png"},"google_play":{"key":"google_play","url":"https:\/\/podcasts.google.com\/feed\/aHR0cHM6Ly9hbGV4aXN2ZWVuZW5kYWFsLmNvbS9mZWVkL3BvZGNhc3Qvc2hvcnQtc3Rvcmllcw","label":"Google Play","class":"google_play","icon":"google-play.png"},"google_podcasts":{"key":"google_podcasts","url":"https:\/\/podcasts.google.com\/feed\/aHR0cHM6Ly9hbGV4aXN2ZWVuZW5kYWFsLmNvbS9mZWVkL3BvZGNhc3Qvc2hvcnQtc3Rvcmllcw","label":"Google Podcasts","class":"google_podcasts","icon":"google-podcasts.png"},"spotify":{"key":"spotify","url":"https:\/\/open.spotify.com\/show\/0lcQCRs52MfYlKs35lVX4K","label":"Spotify","class":"spotify","icon":"spotify.png"},"itunes":{"key":"itunes","url":"https:\/\/podcasts.apple.com\/us\/podcast\/short-stories\/id1621456328","label":"iTunes","class":"itunes","icon":"itunes.png"}},"rssFeedUrl":"https:\/\/blog.alexisveenendaal.com\/feed\/podcast\/default-podcast","embedCode":"

The Bane of Klaue Castle<\/a><\/blockquote>