could be seen or heard.
“Where could he have gone?” Gilley whimpered, looking especially frightened.
“We need to find him,” I said, getting up and wiping the wet hair out of my eyes.
“We also need to see about drying out our clothes and maybe starting a fire to get warm,” Heath advised.
It was then that I noticed both Meg and Kim standing with their arms wrapped tightly about themselves, shivering with cold.
“Right,” I agreed, rummaging around in my messenger bag for the lighter and the small notebook I never went without. Tossing both to John, I said, “You stay here with Gilley, Meg, and Kim. See if you can find some wood for a fire, and use the notebook paper for kindling. I think you should try and get one started by the door, ’cause I don’t trust that hearth’s chimney.”
We left the main group and Heath and I worked our way deeper into the castle. The storm was still raging outside, and the walls reverberated with the sound of thunder, but no flashes of lightning made their way inside. The only illumination was our flashlights. “Gopher!” I called as we moved into the first main corridor off the front hall.
Somewhere in the distance a loud creaking sound made Heath and me both pause to listen. “Where’d that come from?” Heath whispered.
“I think from that hallway down there,” I whispered back, motioning to a separate corridor that opened up all the way at the end of the one we were in.
“Gopher?” Heath shouted.
His voice echoed along the walls.
And then ...
... something growled back.
“What was that?” I whispered. The sound we’d heard was deep and guttural and not at all human.
Heath didn’t answer me. Instead, he pulled out a magnetic grenade and popped open the cap. “Whatever it was,” he said, bending low to my ear, “I don’t think it’s friendly.”
I pulled a grenade out too and uncorked the top. Tipping out the spike, I held it high, like a knife, ready to stab it into anyone—or any thing —that approached. After a moment I asked Heath, “Should we continue down that way?”
“Do we have much of a choice?”
Mentally I cursed Gopher for wandering off. “Okay. Let’s keep going but quietly. No calling out to Gopher until we know what we’re dealing with.”
Heath and I proceeded cautiously down the corridor. I could still hear the storm, and the dripping of water and some sort of scuttling noise I attributed to something like a mouse or a rat, but nothing else disturbed the darkness.
As we walked forward, I began to get a terrible feeling. It was like I was thirteen again, watching a scary movie well past my bedtime. I couldn’t seem to shake the creepy shiver seeping along my spine. I leaned over and in Heath’s ear whispered, “I really don’t like this!”
He paused.
I paused.
And for several heartbeats neither of us moved even to breathe. The longer we stood there, waiting, the more unsettled I became. I was about to tell Heath that maybe we should double back—and quick—when a wave of something terrifying wafted through the ether and washed over me with tremendous power. I sank to my knees and closed my eyes as every nightmarish monster I’d ever seen on TV or conjured up in my worst dreams flooded through my mind and wiped away all reason.
It was as if a force that knew everything that had ever frightened me as a child or an adult had kept a record of it, and was filling my mind with all those images at once, while clearing away any ability I might have to form a rational thought. It was an onslaught of horror, and I was powerless to stop it.
The effect crippled me both mentally and physically, and I couldn’t seem to form a thought of my own. I was aware only of danger, terror, and panic until I felt something crash into my shoulder, and it knocked me to the ground. That just increased my terror and I screamed, and screamed, and screamed.
I wanted desperately to get away, and so I scuttled and crawled along the
“Where could he have gone?” Gilley whimpered, looking especially frightened.
“We need to find him,” I said, getting up and wiping the wet hair out of my eyes.
“We also need to see about drying out our clothes and maybe starting a fire to get warm,” Heath advised.
It was then that I noticed both Meg and Kim standing with their arms wrapped tightly about themselves, shivering with cold.
“Right,” I agreed, rummaging around in my messenger bag for the lighter and the small notebook I never went without. Tossing both to John, I said, “You stay here with Gilley, Meg, and Kim. See if you can find some wood for a fire, and use the notebook paper for kindling. I think you should try and get one started by the door, ’cause I don’t trust that hearth’s chimney.”
We left the main group and Heath and I worked our way deeper into the castle. The storm was still raging outside, and the walls reverberated with the sound of thunder, but no flashes of lightning made their way inside. The only illumination was our flashlights. “Gopher!” I called as we moved into the first main corridor off the front hall.
Somewhere in the distance a loud creaking sound made Heath and me both pause to listen. “Where’d that come from?” Heath whispered.
“I think from that hallway down there,” I whispered back, motioning to a separate corridor that opened up all the way at the end of the one we were in.
“Gopher?” Heath shouted.
His voice echoed along the walls.
And then ...
... something growled back.
“What was that?” I whispered. The sound we’d heard was deep and guttural and not at all human.
Heath didn’t answer me. Instead, he pulled out a magnetic grenade and popped open the cap. “Whatever it was,” he said, bending low to my ear, “I don’t think it’s friendly.”
I pulled a grenade out too and uncorked the top. Tipping out the spike, I held it high, like a knife, ready to stab it into anyone—or any thing —that approached. After a moment I asked Heath, “Should we continue down that way?”
“Do we have much of a choice?”
Mentally I cursed Gopher for wandering off. “Okay. Let’s keep going but quietly. No calling out to Gopher until we know what we’re dealing with.”
Heath and I proceeded cautiously down the corridor. I could still hear the storm, and the dripping of water and some sort of scuttling noise I attributed to something like a mouse or a rat, but nothing else disturbed the darkness.
As we walked forward, I began to get a terrible feeling. It was like I was thirteen again, watching a scary movie well past my bedtime. I couldn’t seem to shake the creepy shiver seeping along my spine. I leaned over and in Heath’s ear whispered, “I really don’t like this!”
He paused.
I paused.
And for several heartbeats neither of us moved even to breathe. The longer we stood there, waiting, the more unsettled I became. I was about to tell Heath that maybe we should double back—and quick—when a wave of something terrifying wafted through the ether and washed over me with tremendous power. I sank to my knees and closed my eyes as every nightmarish monster I’d ever seen on TV or conjured up in my worst dreams flooded through my mind and wiped away all reason.
It was as if a force that knew everything that had ever frightened me as a child or an adult had kept a record of it, and was filling my mind with all those images at once, while clearing away any ability I might have to form a rational thought. It was an onslaught of horror, and I was powerless to stop it.
The effect crippled me both mentally and physically, and I couldn’t seem to form a thought of my own. I was aware only of danger, terror, and panic until I felt something crash into my shoulder, and it knocked me to the ground. That just increased my terror and I screamed, and screamed, and screamed.
I wanted desperately to get away, and so I scuttled and crawled along the
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