Utterly Ghastly

Story 4: The Castle

I. 1300 A.D. somewhere in Europe
The two young lovers rush around their stone chambers in the heights of the castle. The

young woman has her long blonde hair braided down her back, kept firmly out of her face as she rushes about packing her lover's clothing into burlap-like sacks. Her lover, a young man with only the patchy beginnings of a beard, hurriedly straps his sword to his side, blue eyes scanning the chamber to make sure he has everything that he will need once he leaves. "Have we everything?" he asks her, drawing her attention back to him.

"Yes, my love," she replies, tying up the last one and turning to face him, her green eyes connecting with his sapphire ones. She crosses over to him, forcing him into an embrace even though he keeps glancing around the room nervously. She looks up at him once his arms are around her and whispers, "We are going to be free, my love. Thy father will be unable to find us once we set off. We will finally be able to live our lives free from his reach, to be ourselves, to love as we see fit. We will have done it, Hector." She smiles at him then, red lips stretched over nearly-white teeth.

He stoops down to kiss her forehead, closing his eyes to relish the feeling of her, before he murmurs on her skin, "Let us go, Anne. Let us walk into our future and leave this dark castle behind." One more kiss atop her head, and they part.

Hand-in-hand, they walk out of the chambers, a bag slung over his back and one over Anne's shoulder. Hector draws his longsword and has it at the ready as they walk through the knotted hallways and passages towards the exit of the castle and the drawbridge. The last leg of their venture out of the castle is a stop in the throne room. As they begin to walk through the

grand room with a high arching ceiling, their footfalls sound like dull claps that echo through the chamber. Each step is painful to them, as they are well aware that anyone could hear them and catch them trying to sneak away.

"Where does the crown prince and my wife's lovely servant girl go so late this evening? And without a chaperone, no less." Both of the young people come to a halt as Hector shoves Anne behind him, angling his sword in his father's direction. From behind a column, the King appears, his bear threaded through with grey, his blue eyes more cold, like ice, compared to those of his son. He lets out a "tsk tsk" sound and quirks his head to one side as a slow smile spreads across his face. "What would people think?" he teases.

"Father, we are going with or without your permission," Hector declares, puffing his chest out and moving towards the exit, Anne still held firmly behind him.

"Oh, well that is a shame Hector. It appears you will not be going anywhere at all-- you or your little lover." He waves dismissively at Anne as he descends a flight of stairs towards the pair, backing them up further into the room and away from the exits. As they walk, they step into lines of salt poured over the floor, the workings of an evil spell.

"You will let us go father," Hector declares firmly, puffing out his chest in an impressive display of courage. "It does not matter what you do, Anne and I will always find our ways back to each other. In this life, or in the next one-- we will find each other and be together. It would be best, then, for you to let us go, even without your blessing, and save yourself the trouble."

"You are so certain of things, my son. It is like I have wasted all my life in vain and the result is that I have taught you nothing." The king shakes his head as he lands on the same level as them, smirking as he notes that they are in the middle of the lines of salt. He raises his head and then grins fully as he says, "Let us test your little theory. If you shall find each other time

and time again throughout the ages, then I will be there to stop you. But in order for us to play this little game, we must die. And I can think of no better punishment for you than to watch your Anne die." He points his right hand at Anne, flames erupting along the lines on the ground, separating Hector from his beloved.

"No!" he screams, lunging for her, only to be thrown back away from her. He tries again, but when he severely singes his arm, causing him to cry out in pain, he has to pull back. He looks back to his father, blue eyes round as he pleads, "Father, please do not do this! Do not make me watch as you rip my heart from my chest! Remember that I am still your son."

"It is because you are my son that I do this," the King replies, pointing a finger at Anne, who backs as far away from him as she can before she cries out at the touch of the flames. The King's eyes fix on his son as he says, "All fathers are responsible for disciplining their children when they go astray. And so, I must discipline you." His gaze then snaps to Anne, whose skin turns the color of snow as tears begin to bite at the edge of her vision.

"FATHER NO!" Hector shouts, trying to throw himself between the two as his father whispers words in a language of magic, but the flames flare higher, pushing him back as Anne screams. A bolt of what appears to be lightning shoots for her, spearing straight through her and driving her to the ground.

It's then that the flames gutter out, and Hector races to his fallen love. He hauls her into his lap with shaking arms, tears streaming down his cheeks as he hurriedly presses his fingers to her neck, only to find that she lacks a pulse. He doubles over her, letting out a gut-wrenching sob.