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The 26 eclectic-genre
short stories for my #AtoZChallenge are excerpts from travelogue notes by
novel character
Gahlen, who first appeared in SHARDS OF
MEMORY – Oral History in a Heartbeat.
Each A-to-Z daily post is a complete,
stand-alone tale - partly true, partly fiction.
Lichtentanne Castle Apparition
Genre: Paranormal Reign
(362 words)
High-pitched voices attracted my attention. I glanced outside
at the moat of Burg Schonfels Castle and spotted three school-aged girls skipping
atop the wall. They played tag, the shortest girl chasing after the others. Through
her eyes, I somehow gained the benefit of seeing a stunning view. The castle
overlooked a sprawling Saxon countryside. A field of poppies offered a striking
contrast to vibrant foliage and the river’s shimmering water.
As
the girl glanced toward the village, I sensed the warnings her parents had
issued about never entering the castle grounds. She recalled tales of sorrowful
moans coming from within the castle on windy nights. Unease overtook me as she focused
on a room directly above me.
Apparently,
the most stressful moaning emanated from that room. Anyone within range described
the vibrations as voice-like. Rampant town gossip followed any particularly
active period.
The
girl’s thoughts turned to folklore about a royal child drowning in the moat’s
murky waters centuries earlier. Tales made mention of foul play for any number
of suspicious reasons. Such thoughts excited the girl but terrified me.
Many
placed blame for the drowning on the royal child’s claim to a jealous king’s
throne; others believed the drowning occurred when the mute toddler grew
unmanageable. A version that caused me and the girl to shiver involved the royal
child’s deranged mother. No one knew what
she might have done one sleepless night. Regardless the rumors, often
disbelieved but never disproved, the moans continued.
The school
girls raced faster along the moat’s wall. Then the slipper of the shortest girl
caught the edge of a protruding stone. She fell, closing her eyes. The scene
faded. Curious to know more, I squeezed my eyelids shut.
The girl
reappeared with her eyes wide open. We stood in an unkempt, upper room of the
castle. Frowning at me, she said, “You were told not to come up here.”
I
ignored her reprimand. “How did the royal child die?”
“The
child lived to be king.” She glanced toward a crib fitted with a rotting mattress.
“A royal descendant is who suffered poorly the anticipation of such unrelenting
burden.”
With
that, her eyes closed for good.
*****
