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Rated: E · Fiction · Ghost · #2237249
Kent wanted to experience history, and he did.
The Ghost of Bellensbach

Kent had read the stories about the history of Germany's Lichtenberg Castle before embarking on his journey to visit Germany, along with other small hamlets that housed castles. However, this particular one was one of the oldest, constructed somewhere around the 12th century BC. Being an American, and a college European history major, it was difficult to fathom anything so old and made this a once in a lifetime journey.

After landing in Frankfurt, he joined a small team of history majors from around the world. Friendships were forged quickly despite the difficulties with a few accents. It was their common thirst for history which made them close.

Kent never imagined the German countryside would abound of so much deep green foliage. The breathtaking spans of land between the small villages, with their hills sloping softly toward the horizon, inspired a genuine sense of serenity. But all that changed once they entered the tiny hamlet of Bellensbach.

The imposing castle sat atop a hill. A sculpted vineyard, with well-defined rows alternating between green and beige, sat at its base. Even from a distance, Kent could see the stones that made up the high walls of the castle. Within those walls stood a single stone tower sporting a roof, something unusual, and battlements surrounded its four sides. One of the last knight's battles on German soil took place in the castle. Kent tried to imagine real knights fighting to the death. It was a must see.

The others in the group preferred to explore Bellensbach to his dismay. He was sure they'd want to visit the castle, but he found himself to be the only radical of the group, but he didn't mind. The tour driver took him up to the castle's stone bridge and stated he'll be back in an hour. Kent strolled past the gatehouse, and his eyes beheld a historic sight, the tower. That was the first place he wanted to visit.

He climbed the stairs, allowing the musty fragrance of centuries gone by to swirl in his head. He reached the breach and peered outward. The expanse set before him was superb. He cruised by all four sides before taking pictures. Then he descended the staircase and made his way back to the courtyard, past the smaller clock tower, then toward the chapel.

He opened the chapel door and wheezed when the breath of the ages swam up his nostrils. The daylight exposed the ancient wall paintings, still clearly visible after all that time. The sepulchral atmosphere of the chapel caused him to shudder. He moved toward the imposing stone podium with a cross on top.

The chapel door slammed shut. Kent jumped and released a small gasp.

In the darkness, he found his phone, switched on the flashlight, and charged toward the door. A hulking figure appeared before him, wearing chain mail and wielding a heavy sword. Kent watched as the sword began its swift journey downward to cleave off his head.

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