The following three drabbles are what happens when I watch several episodes of Castle Secrets in succession. Enjoy.
The White Lady
They are afraid of me.
I can see it when they enter the room. If they enter the room. Some hover by the doorway and never cross the threshold.
But they donāt know fear.
Not as it came to me that night.
All my happiness cleaved by an axe while holding my child in my arms. One brief second, as he revealed his lies and betrayed us both in the downward stroke. One moment of terror and pain. Then nothing but bones under the fireplace.
Now that horror and torment haunt this room, waiting for the day they find us.
Ghosts of the Castle
Twisted deep within the gloaming and the glitter of moonlight, voices echo down the corridors of stone, calling from the past. Forgotten leftovers of legends and secrets, their truth lost in the gloom of time. A trod of footsteps, a swish of skirts, a wail from inside the walls, they make themselves heard, whatever drives them to linger sounding in the night.
Not but passersby, a touch of death among the living, as the air shivers in their presence. Caught in a prison of stone, existing among the towers, and the rooms, and the stories, always seeking their final restā¦
Immortality
What ghosts haunt these passages, dark and dank, buried deep beneath the cloistered cornerstones of illumination and religion? Who are imprinted into the foundations, mixed within the quicklime of the mortar, reverberate discarded mortal remains. What souls were promised eternity in paradise, to find in death their bones stripped before being entombed with prayers and religious duty?
But what remained? What vestige of consciousness or frisson of the spirit caught in the discarded muck and mire?
With their fragments of dissolved flesh scooped and reused, slathered in the cracks, replete with unspoken screams, forever interred in the structure and forgotten.
Be Afraid of the Dark 
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