Following the chilling success of their first collection, Lady Eckland, Glenn Riley, and new collaborator, Bella Darkwood return to guide you through the shadowy corridors of fear with their second compendium, *Whispers In The Dark 2*. These master...
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Vyazma, Russia, January 1537
The bitter wind whipped at Dmitri's face as he urged his horse faster through the snow-covered forest. The branches of the stark winter trees groaned under the weight of the ice and snow, and the setting sun cast an ominous orange glow over the endless white vista before them. He had to get to the castle before nightfall.
He and his cohort of Kossack warriors had been riding for the last two days since leaving Moscow, pushing themselves and their mounts to the limits of exhaustion. Upon receiving the Tsar's urgent summons, Dmitri immediately gathered his most trusted and fiercest warriors to accompany him to investigate the strange disappearance of Clan Vyazemsky.
The Vyazemskys were an old, noble family sworn in fealty to the Tsar for generations. Their ancestral castle stood like a sentinel on the edge of the Tsar's domain, guarding the border between Russia and the wild lands to the west. They had not been heard from in months, despite being entrusted with communicating any suspicious activity from foreign invaders, rebel factions, or supernatural forces. For there were ancient evils in those lands that did not sleep easy.
Now the towering stone walls of Vyazma Castle appeared through the trees. Even from a distance, Dmitri sensed something ominous. There were no guards walking the parapets, no flags flying from its towers. No smoke rose from fires burning within. Only a foreboding silence.
Dmitri raised his hand, the silent signal for his warriors to slow their approach. Their hands went to the hilts of swords and battle axes as they entered the open gate into the castle's courtyard. The horses' hooves clopped loudly on the cobblestones, the sound echoing between the high walls. Dmitri strained his ears for any other noise.
"Search the grounds and the castle," he ordered his Kossacks. "And be on your guard."
The men dismounted, drawing their weapons and moving cautiously toward the stables and soldiers’ barracks. Dmitri made his way across the courtyard toward the main castle entrance, a set of towering oak doors carved with the Vyazemsky family crest - two wolves facing a crown. He pushed one door open with a loud creak.
The doors opened into the Great Hall, where nobility would gather for feasts and councils, with two long tables and a large hearth along the right wall. But now the room was dark, cold and empty. Along the left wall a spiral stone staircase led up into the higher floors and towers. Dmitri held his sword before him.
"Lord Vyazemsky!" he called out, his voice echoing down the corridors branching from the Great Hall. "I am Dmitri Ivanovich, sent by Tsar Ivan on royal orders! Make yourself known!"
Only silence answered. The castle was like a tomb. As Dmitri's eyes adjusted to the dim light he saw scattered papers and upturned furniture, as if there had been a struggle. Dark stains that looked disturbingly like blood marked the stone floors. At that moment, two of his Kossacks appeared behind him.
