It is split into nine distinct "chapters" - this is the first.
Kertington Castle
Contents:
1: Death after Ten –
The bed in the brightening room stirred as plump old Anna awoke as the sunshine shone through the tatty curtains. Years of hard work had made her disciplined. She quickly rose from her bed and proceeded to prepare herself for the day ahead. Dashing about the bleak and pokey room, she pulled her working clothes out of the wardrobe. These consisted of a bleak grey dress, a white and tatty apron, and a black under shirt. She then stood adjacent to her window, where she could barely see her reflection, and carefully adjusted her hair. She was now ready to wake up the Master.
The Master demanded that he should be woken up each day before ten o’clock without fail. Old Anna made haste as she did everyday to the east wing of the castle.
The corridors echoed with the clattering of her buffed shoes as she hurried along, glancing at the landmark of the grandfather clock as she went, reassuring herself of her perfect timekeeping.
She continued through the castle as the corridors became more lavish with wonderful tapestries which hung gracefully from the walls, depicting gallant knights, and luxurious rugs made with skill and unparalleled intricacy; to seem as if one were seeing exotic and far-away palaces.
Finally, Old Anna reached the end of the corridor and stood in front of the engraved and elaborate doorway to the Master’s bedroom. She knocked rapidly. No answer. The Master was a heavy sleeper and had insisted he was to be risen from his deep. Anna rapped her knuckles on the door again, contemplating the plan for the rest of her day. There was no sound from inside. She decided to go to his besides and wake him up, for he would be annoyed if he was woken up late. Opening the door quietly, she quickly observed the room.
All along the walls were marvellous tapestries, pictures and trophies which the Master insisted on collecting. Bright and impractical urns gleamed from atop their shelves around the room, and the heads and remains of many once-fearsome beasts stared down through their bleak, remorseful eyes. Hand crafted chests and armouries formed aisles up and down the huge room, containing the rich clothes of the Master, the dusty relics of ancestors and trinkets which had caught his gluttonous eye. Central to the cavernous room was a huge four-poster bed, gilded and beautiful, with its contents of billowing and luxurious bed clothes and furs, and the mound which was the Master at its centre.
Navigating her way, Anna reached the side of the Master’s bed. He was completely covered with bed sheets.
“Master! Master!”, She tittered with her obnoxious, nasally voice.
“Wake-up call, sir!”, She touched the mound, and pressed it.
“Is that you….Deirdre?” the old man questioned.
“Its Anna Thomas, Sir – the morning is nigh and your breakfast is to be prepared”, she replied as the mound reverberated.
“Water. I need water, Deirdre. Ask the servant to fetch water”. The mound moved and turned. His face became revealed, and immediately she noticed those eyes, those bloody-shot red and drooping eyes. Amid a sea of deep burrows, an expression revealed itself; confusion and anxiety.
“Sir, right away sir!”
The old man covered his face with his bony hand and the mound rocked as he coughed. “Quickly Deirdre, I fear I have caught an awful chill during the bleak night”. The grave mouth bobbed lethargically.
Anna quickly turned away and hurried out of the room. Before even she knew it she had clottered down several corridors and flights of stairs, and had reached the kitchen. She retrieved a bucket and a goblet and proceeded to take her haulage back to the East Wing. Heaving the bucket of water and goblet, she barged the door with her hip and walked into the room. Lord Kertington had risen and was standing before his bed in his now bedraggled robe, which hung from his withered bones.
“Water! I need Water!” he blared weakly as he slowly edged towards her, the goblet of water offered up to him.
Greedily he snatched the goblet and pulled in onto his face, gulping heavily. He quickly finished it.
“More,” he gasped and she filled the goblet and gave it back to him.
“More!” he repeated as he forced the goblet into Anna’s hands, ignoring the worried expression on her face.
“MORE!” he bellowed with his raspy breath as he lunged at the bucket, and with an unnatural exertion, lifted it up to his face, emptying it onto himself and into his gawping mouth. “Arrgghhh!” he cried as he threw the empty wooden bucket in the way of Anna, gripping his hair and walking back towards his bed, turning his face away from her.
“Kertington! You are unwell! Make haste to bed and I shall call the physician my poor dear!”, Anna cried as she heard a retching sound, as the floor surrounding the Master become a pool of thick, red blood. He turned around to face her, his eyes maddened, his crevasses blaring for all of their glory. “Why?” he screamed as he jumped at Anna, and groped her clothes as she cried out in alarm. He leaned over her and came up to her face, his gaunt face against her podgy cheeks, bloody dripping onto her apron and smothering her eyes. “Why do you do this to me!? DEIRDRE!” he cried. As he bellowed forth torrents of blood, her dull clothes became a dark, vile mess and as she screamed continuously in horror. With incomprehendable force he threw her towards the doorway, and with a bang her skull knocked against the door. As she went numb she felt a cold liquid running along the back of her head and neck. She peered up to take one last look at her assaulter, and viewed a horrible skeletal figure, drenched in blood, finally viewing his writhing, terrible eyes as she toppled into oblivion.
****
“Stomach split open? What implement was used for this vile crime?”
“One of your father’s trophies”.
“Ironic that something he deemed so precious was used as an implement in his demise”.
“You should show more remorse, your Father was a good man, in his youth”
“Do not speak of that which you know nothing of. He shall be burnt”.
