Scotland 1830
The halls were dimly lit for the evening, as the lady of the house came. Her soft satin skirts whispered over fine carpets, the highlights in her golden-brown hair shone like flame as she passed beneath torch-sconces. A sweet, almost charitable smile curved her lips.
One hand held her skirt up slightly off the floor as she walked. There, the light blue satin was stained dark with the blood on her fingers. In her other hand, she carried a croquet mallet. Bits of skin and hair clung to it like tired spiders.
She hummed happily as she entered the dining room, drifting on bare and silent feet. The emptiness embraced her like a sad ghost.
In the kitchen, a pair of maids were finishing the cleaning from dinner, talking idly to one another and thinking about the beds waiting for them. The older one turned as the door opened and blinked in surprise to see the Lady there. Fear entered her eyes.
"My Lady, I thought you had retir-"
Her words broke off as the mallet slammed into her face, crunching bone as if it had no more substance than paper. Blood and a few teeth flew, and the woman collapsed in twitching spasms. The Lady frowned a little and wiped an irritated forefinger over her cheek, as if the blood that had lightly dabbed her skin was an errant bit of spittle.
The younger maid, face ashen and horrified, screamed and turned to run. The Lady stepped casually over the body of the older maid, caught the younger by the back of her apron, and hauled her back. Releasing her apron she grasped the girl's hair and almost thoughtlessly bashed her face forward into the counter. The wood splintered, the girl's skull stove in, and the Lady resumed her humming and continued on her way.
By the wee hours of the morning the croquet mallet had been broken and discarded, the soft baby blue of her gown had soaked almost black with blood, and her eyes had sunken into dark circles. There was a fire on the other side of the castle. She could smell the smoke even here, as she slowly climbed the steps to the second floor in the Groomsman's Wing.
There was shouting below. She must have missed someone. She altered her course a little, entering the groom barracks. Four dead bodies lay here, two little more than boys. She passed them as if they were furniture and peeked out a window.
Coaches and horses filled the front yard. Drifting back she shook her head and sighed as if dealing with a child who had stolen an apple from the cook. She padded back out into the hall. The shouting voices were closer. As she started toward the special doors a pair of booted feet ran into the hallway. She glanced over her shoulder at the man, holding a torch. He was armed.
"OY! Here she is! Stop right there, ay!" he ordered. More steps rushed their direction. The Lady cast her hand to the side as if brushing away a fly, and continued on her way.
"Hey! I said stop, right!" he started running toward her, another pair of lads joining him in the pursuit. She reached the doors and pulled one open, slipping through with barely a whisper, and closing it behind her.
Her pursuers ran up barely a breath later and yanked the door open. A dark, moonlit hallway greeted their vision.
Empty.
The Lady had vanished as thoroughly as any shadow, leaving more than seventy dead in her wake.
A month ago:
The sky was alive with stars, a gibbous moon shining in bright silver over the diamond-studded blue velvet night. The face some claimed to see in its shadows and craters looked almost startled as it peered down on the party below.
The castle was brightly lit, doors flung wide and windows cast their golden light out into the night, unhindered by curtains. Well-to-do in ball gowns and neat tuxedos came in and out, floating along on strains of music and laughter.
One woman, her dark hair elegantly curled around her shoulders, stood in the nearby parking lot, bending forward to kiss an older woman s cheeks, thanking her for coming. As she turned to go back toward the castle she paused a moment, peering up at the moon.
Just below her diamond necklace, her dress puffed. Eyes widening a little, shining back the starlight above, she took a step backward and collapsed elegantly on the ground.
Somewhere near the castle there was a crash, and a scream. Startled men and women rushed over and gathered around a man who lay among shards of glass.
Another scream echoed from the parking lot, where the woman stared sightlessly at the silent but surprised moon.
Deep within dark places of the castle, as soft as the sigh of a mouse, something began to move...