Graveyard of dreams.

Fiona stopped digging. She heard the sound of mad ruthless dog barks. The clouds drifted away from the moon and the moonlight lit up the wording on the granite gravestone. The grave stone read ‘Butcher’s Daughter’. Upon reading the stone, Fiona turned in shock, to look at her husband and master. She staggered backwards and fell on the grave. Sadness entered her eyes when she stared at the barrel of the twelve bore posed towards her stomach. She saw smoke yet heard nothing. She thought to herself, ‘it’s a blank’. She looked down to her hands coated in blood and noticed her skin was clammy and cold.

Phillip walked back towards the castle in a drunken haze. He decided to bury her later. He felt safe with the knowledge that his vast, secure, gates and grounds would not allow any visitors to enter without invitation. With a brandy in his hand, he fell asleep on the armchair.

‘Fiona a girl with exceptional beauty, grace and kindness lay motionless next to the grave of her dreams and nightmares. The mist coated the ground and the terrors untold surrounded the moonlit sky. The presence of the haunted castle boomed in the background and in her thoughts. Her life flashed through the mind of her soul and the mysteries of events began to be told.’


She saw a figure painted in black, he reached slowly towards an invisible thread and began to pull. Fiona’s soul was in this figure’s command. She screamed and cried but still the figure pulled relentlessly. ‘‘Why are you doing this’’, demanded Fiona. The figure made no response. Fiona wailed full of misery and shame and like a kitten in a black bag was dragged on towards the unknown.

Eerie noises were heard all around Fiona and dark voices entered her mind and consciousness. Fiona fought hard to grasp the power of her own thoughts.
Fiona sobbing, blurted out ‘’I’m dead….aren’t I’’ not expecting an answer or reassurance.

The figure answered ‘’YES’’

Fiona asked the figure politely what was to become of her. The figure remained silent to her question.
‘’It isn’t a rhetorical question’’, screamed Fiona.

The figure didn’t reply. Voices entered Fiona’s mind once more. A repetitive chant repeated over and over ’I am death and I need your soul’. Fiona was losing her mind if such a thing existed when you die.

Fiona despairingly voiced one last question, something she had really wanted to know her whole life since the early age of four. ‘‘What was my mother Sophie like?’’

Death stopped and turned ‘‘who dares question Death, tell me your name child so I can rip it from your soul. Lie to me and I’ll throw you into the abyss below’’

The figure’s voice appeared to be coming from her mind and not an external location.
Fiona and Death were on a narrow walkway of stone no wider than three adjacent building bricks. She looked below her to what appeared to be a series of black holes consumed by a mass of fire.

Fiona terrified replied ‘‘my name is Fiona Price’’

Death let go of the invisible thread and then walked away from Fiona. Fiona almost tripped over the ledge when death let go of her soul and she managed to stable herself.
Fiona yelled to death in a panic whilst staring down to the unknown. ‘‘Stop, where are you going, you can’t leave me here!’’

‘’I’m going to collect Souls silly child’’

‘’Then where should I go, help me’’ wailed Fiona.

Death walked on and Fiona heard him from within her mind ‘’Silly child, death helps no-one’’

‘’What happened to my mother?’’ asked Fiona

Death kept walking. Suddenly Fiona could see an invisible thread sparkled with gold. Curiously she touched it and it stuck to her finger. She recoiled in fright and accidentally wrapped it around her hand. Looking ahead down the narrow path, Death had slowed his pace. Bemused, Fiona reached for the golden thread with her other hand. Death turned around and walked back to her, he seemed to be under her control. Gleefully Fiona tugged the thread as if reeling in a fish. Moments later Death stood before Fiona paralyzed by some force. Fiona’s mind cleared and she spoke to Death yet her mouth did not open. She forced the question into Death’s mind.

‘‘What happened to my mother did you know her’’. Death’s mouth opened and he spoke.

‘‘Your mother tricked me out of her soul’’

‘‘How did she do that?’’ queried Fiona.

‘‘She had a gift and comes from a line of people I cannot control’’

‘‘What was her gift?’

‘‘This is out of my realm of understanding. What do you want with me child?’’

‘‘I wish to find out what happened to my mother?’’ The words flowed from Fiona’s mind although she was unsure it was her that had said them.

Instantly, the scenery changed around her and flashes came and went. She saw her body lying stiff on the gravestone yet she ventured further into the past and events unraveled before her eyes.

First she saw her parents and a baby, she saw birthdays, school, her lover Tom and then her arranged marriage with Phillip Lord. She shot back deeper into the past and viewed her mother declining the offer of marriage by Phillip’s father, Douglas Lord. This was unbeknown by Fiona’s Father, William. She saw her Mother’s uncle, Paul, frantically hiding documents in a picture and she saw his death. She saw the Lord’s family bribing the church and her grandparent’s castle and grounds being given away. She saw her mother lying on the same tombstone as herself. She saw Tom being tortured in the castle. She saw herself dying from a strange illness at four years old and she saw the bargain her mother made with Death for her life. 

The scenery changed yet again and Fiona stared into the eyes of Death whilst suspended above chaos and darkness. ‘‘What now do you wish child?’’

‘‘I wish to not yet die’’

‘‘Then release me from your grasp’’.

Fiona let go of the gold thread. She felt herself falling against her will and thought that Death had tricked her and thrown her into the abyss, yet she landed with a thud. Fiona gasped for oxygen. She opened her eyes to the coldness of the air and looked up upon the castle. She had to rescue Tom.

She entered the forest next to the graveyard. She walked up stream until she reached a thicket of branches and bracken obscuring the water. She pushed the thicket aside, pulled up her satin green skirt and stepping into the stream. There was a hole with a rusted away iron grill, which she entered. The passage before her was narrow and the tunnel became darker each tread she made. The distant sound of squeaking echoed the stone walls. During the walk she felt things brush up against her leg. Part of the passage had miniature openings into the outside grounds. She caught a brief flash of dull light coming from the moon and she noticed the rats moving along the side of the walls. Some time later the tunnel stopped and the stream appeared to be running underneath a solid wall. Fiona was puzzled but calmly recalled her dream. An image of a rock flashed into her mind. She searched frantically and found a rock similar in size to the smallest gravestones in the yard. The water flowing from under the wall was flowing quite loudly so she wasn’t so worried of making a noise.

Guessing her way, Fiona rammed the rock into the wall. A large lump of what appeared to be lime broke off. Fiona hit the wall again. Other parts crumbled away as she carefully broke off different pieces of the wall until she could squeeze through yet another hole. She was in the castle but surroundings were not familiar. The small stream ran through the whole part of this dungeon and seemed to connect to the nearby river.

Fiona walked towards light from the cracks in a large wooden door and she opened it. This was the main part of the dungeon which she stumbled upon before when living with Phillip. Fiona heard footsteps and talking coming from the stone spiral stairs from the left.
She rushed for cover at the base of the stairs which had a short alley concealed by a stone lip.

Phillip and another guy were talking:
‘‘Monty, your honesty overwhelms me’’, humored Philip.
‘‘Where’s Fiona?’’, asked Monty curiously.
‘‘She’s cooking.’’
‘‘Oh right, did you meet that guy I told you about?’’
‘‘I haven’t decided what to do about Tom.’’
‘‘Ok but what news have you of the map?’’
‘‘Fiona or her father appear to know nothing’’, coolly replied Phillip
‘‘Then how can we find it?’’ demanded Monty
‘‘We can’t you blithering fool.’’ Shouted Phillip
‘‘What do you mean?’’
‘‘I mean if you hadn’t been so hasty in butchering Sophie’s uncle we would have had a lead.’’
‘‘Paul, he knew too much about us, Phillip.’’
‘‘Monty, Monty, your wrong he knew too much about you!’’ said Philip as he patted Monty on the back and slowly eased a steel knife into his stomach. Monty yelped for air yet received none. Phillip dragged him through the door at the end of the corridor. Tom could be heard screaming as an iron door opened and shut abrasively.

‘‘You look lonely Tom, here’s company. Don’t worry you’ll see my wife in the morning’’ Philip said gently.

Fiona trembled and backed into the corner as Phillip went up the stone staircase. She took a deep breath and dashed through the corridor to the door. She opened it and looked upon Tom.

‘‘Fiona’’ stuttered Tom

Fiona gestured for silence as she pulled a long lever and the iron door swung open with a bang. ‘Phillip must have heard that’ thought Fiona.

Monty reached up his blood stained hand to Tom offering a silver key. ‘‘I’m sorry’’, said Monty coarsely, ‘‘the key opens the nearby chest there’s a pistol...’’ Monty’s face went from red to white and his chest stopped moving with the rhythm of his breathing. He was gone.

Tom rushed to the chest and reached for the revolver. Footsteps could be heard from the stairs. Tom fumbled with the bullets and cocked the gun. Phillip strolled through the prison door with a shotgun. Fiona dived to the floor as Tom unloaded two cartridges. One struck Phillip’s right hand and the shotgun fell from his grasp yet still fired. The boom sounded and Fiona was relieved to find they were both ok. Her husband on the other hand wasn’t.

His right boot had been torn away, blood oozed everywhere. Bone poked out through the leather and laces. He tried to move his right hand but the tendon was ruptured by the pistol shot. The second bullet must have strayed as it was embedded on the wall behind him.

Phillip reached for the gun on the floor with his left hand. Fiona kicked it aside. Tom raging with fury at his captive, leapt towards Phillip swinging the gun hilt towards his face and the brutal impact sounded like a drum. Fiona shuddered as the deformed creature fell backwards into the cell. They both stood for a moment watching him in pity as he cried and cursed in his own prison. They turned away closing the iron door firmly behind them. The bang echoed the castle walls as they made their way out.

Fiona went with Tom to her father’s cottage and laboriously explained everything. William was white with shock but was thankful for the turn of events.

Meanwhile, Fiona recalled her encounter with Death and casually made her way towards the interesting sunset picture on the wall. This picture had belonged to her mother’s uncle. She smashed the glass cover. Inside the picture was the will and title deeds to the Castle mansion and a map of some sort.

(2000 words)

(A.J.Macpherson)