A Castle of Blood

Prologue

The bells on the highest tower chimed softly, indicating that dusk was soon approaching. There was a shuffle of footsteps and shouts as everyone rushed out of the castle gates desperately.

A dark hooded figure stood on the side watching everyone scatter clumsily in all directions. A deep chuckle emitted from his mouth as he slowly moved back into the shadows. He kept himself hidden in the dark folds of light until the castle was silent again. He moved gracefully towards the rusty gates and closed them shut with a loud clatter that echoed through the empty grounds. 

The castle wasn't completely bare. There was the occasional cook or maid that was bold enough to stay the night. However brave they may be, one wouldn't dare to come out of their quarters this time of the day. They would stay in their respective rooms with the windows shut tight, if they knew what was better for them.

The cloaked figure bent over the old well in the corner of the palace gardens. The bricks were crumbling and falling apart from weathering. The runes inscribed on the sides were the only thing that held it all together. As the hooded figure stepped closer and closer, the runes glowed a pale blue and dulled again. 

He ran a long finger along the edge of the lettering and leaned over the deep well. A thousand guttural screams echoed from below, getting louder every second. They became louder and louder until they filled the entire castle grounds, a mixture of throaty howls and screeches. Soon enough, nothing could be heard except the cries and yells from below the ground.

The hooded shadow took in a deep breath and spread out his arms as if embracing the wicked sorcery around him. He let out a small sigh and strode away from the well to the tall trees around the castle. The shadows screamed more deafeningly, if possible. As if asking the cloaked figure to stop and turn around to help them.

He threw his head back and let out a deep laugh before continuing his way. The shouts quietened down after he was out of sight. The palace was silent again, so silent that even no bird dared to chirp and interrupt the muteness. 

The people in the castle held their breaths as if waiting for something to happen. Soon enough, they heard the sound of a sharp sword unsheathing and a heavy body fall to the ground. Moments later they could hear the sword scraping against the castle walls while a foreign song was hummed softly in a rich voice.

A young servant braved himself and pushed the nearest window open to peek through. His breath hitched and he stumbled back in horror. Staring back at him from the tiny gap was a pair of blood red eyes and a devilish grin. A pale white face smiled wickedly at him, blood oozing through his teeth.

The servant couldn't open his mouth to scream. Frozen with horror and unable to move, he trembled in his spot. He closed the window with a snap and fainted to the ground with a thud. The next day, he would run away from the palace, never to turn back.