The depth of short stories and micro-fiction 2

The Shadows of Blackstone Castle

As the last wisps of sunlight faded behind the rolling hills, the group of friends arrived at the crumbling entrance of the old English castle. The once-majestic structure now stood as a testament to the passage of time, its stone walls covered in a thick layer of ivy and moss. The group of 10 friends, all in their mid-twenties, had decided to rent the castle for the weekend, hoping to indulge in a spooky adventure and create some unforgettable memories.

Leading the group was Page, a history buff with a fascination for the paranormal. She had organized the trip, carefully selecting the castle for its notorious reputation for ghostly apparitions. As they entered the musty foyer, Page's eyes sparkled with excitement.

"Welcome, everyone, to our haunted home for the weekend!" she exclaimed, her voice echoing off the stone walls.

The group chuckled and began to disperse, claiming their rooms and exploring the labyrinthine corridors. There was Matt, the sceptic, who refused to believe in the supernatural; Sarah, the thrill-seeker, who was always on the lookout for the next adrenaline rush; and Jack, the class clown, who kept everyone's spirits high with his jokes and antics.

As night fell, the group gathered in the grand dining hall for a feast of pizza and drinks. The fire crackled in the hearth, casting flickering shadows on the walls. Emily regaled them with tales of the castle's dark history, speaking of the countless murders, betrayals, and tragic events that had occurred within its walls.

As the night wore on, the group began to feel a creeping sense of unease. Doors creaked open and shut, and the sound of footsteps echoed down the corridors, even though no one was around. Matt dismissed it as the wind or the old castle settling, but Page knew better. She had done her research and was aware that the castle was said to be home to several malevolent spirits.

The first to experience the wrath of the ghosts was Sarah. She had wandered off to explore the castle's abandoned chapel, searching for a thrill. As she approached the altar, a cold breeze swept past her, extinguishing the candles and plunging her into darkness. Suddenly, she felt a presence behind her, its icy breath on the back of her neck. Sarah tried to run, but her feet seemed rooted to the spot.

The next morning, the group found Sarah catatonic in her bed, her eyes wide with fear. She refused to speak of the incident, but the look in her eyes told them that something was wrong.

As the day progressed, more and more strange occurrences took place. Jack discovered a hidden room deep in the castle's dungeons, filled with ancient artefacts and mysterious symbols. But as he reached out to touch a rusty old sword, he felt a jolt of electricity, and the room was filled with an eerie, pulsating light.

Meanwhile, Matt began to experience terrifying hallucinations, seeing ghostly apparitions lurking in every corner of the castle. He tried to convince the others that it was just his imagination playing tricks on him, but deep down, he knew that something was amiss.

As night fell once again, the group huddled together in the grand dining hall, trying to make sense of the strange events. Page revealed that she had discovered a dark secret about the castle's past, a tragedy that had occurred centuries ago.

"It seems that the castle's former occupants were involved in a dark cult," she explained, her voice barely above a whisper. "They made a pact with a malevolent entity, trading their souls for power and wealth. But the entity demanded a terrible price, a pound of flesh from each of them."

As Page finished speaking, the lights in the dining hall began to flicker, and the air grew thick with an eerie, malevolent presence. The group knew that they had to get out of the castle, but it was too late. The ghosts had been disturbed, and now they were seeking their pound of flesh.

One by one, the group members began to vanish, dragged away by unseen forces into the darkness of the castle. Matt was the last to remain, stumbling through the corridors, desperate to find a way out. But as he reached the entrance, he found it sealed shut, as if by an invisible hand.

The next morning, the police found Matt's car parked outside the castle, the engine still running. But when they entered the castle, they found no sign of the group, only a single, chilling message scrawled on the wall in blood:

"They took their pound of flesh."

The old English castle stood silent and still, its secrets buried within its crumbling walls. The group of friends was never seen again, and the castle was left to its ghosts, forever trapped in a cycle of horror and despair.