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Rated: GC · Chapter · Death · #903112
"Fresh meat...strong men...good blood. Mistress pleased...tasted a sample."
Previous chapters:
"The New Day-lighters....IntroductionOpen in new Window.
"The New Day-lighters--Janine-- IOpen in new Window.
"New Day-lighters-Gypsy Wedding-IIOpen in new Window.




Castle Batwing

They had arrived late in the evening at a strange castle deep in the forest of Penware. The air was still, but the static in it caused the hair on their arms to tingle. The light of the full moon cast an eerie reflection over the unruly landscape, and the whiteness of the moonlight seemed morose against the blackness of the castle.

Occasionally an ebony colored cloud cast its shadow in front of the moon, forcing them to wait until it passed. With the light obscured by the clouds and the towering canopy of trees, it was impossible for them to see the path through the underbrush. A tangle of thorn bushes grew rampantly wild along the path leading all the way down the hill to the castle gate. Large stones were scattered along the path and a step placed wrong could lead to a serious injury.

As the two brothers slowly climbed down the narrow path, they noticed there was no moat or draw bridge, only an old eight foot tall stone wall in disrepair surrounded the towering structure. A large rusted wrought iron gate with an iron bat mounted at the top seemed the only obstacle to their entrance into the castle's courtyard.

"This place gives me chills. It looks abandoned, but I have a feeling it isn't," Bogard said as he clutched his black woolen cloak tighter around his shoulders.

They had been traveling for many days and were extremely tired, and it would be daylight in just a few more hours. With winter coming on, the nights were getting bitter cold and the brothers were looking forward to a nice warm bed. This was the first possible source of comfort from the weather they had come across in the last few days of their travels.

One of the front wheels to their wagon had hit upon a large boulder and the iron rim bent and several of the wooden spokes splintered. The sudden lurching downward of the front of the wagon caused their mare to stumble and fall injuring her left hind leg.

They had come across no inns or towns within the three day journey. As night time was fast approaching they decided to leave the wagon. The horse they sheltered in a nearby corpse of trees near a mountain stream. They then decided to journey on foot until they came upon a village where they expected to have the local blacksmith make repairs and tend their injured horse.

They had traveled on foot for most of the next day before they spied one of the castle's turrets poking above the tree line. They headed cross country always keeping the turret in sight, hoping to find food and shelter within and aid for their mare.

The night was getting darker as more and more clouds covered the moon. The wind that began as just a few gentle breezes, quickly intensified in strength as they neared the castle. They had to hurry, and their heavy woolen cloaks billowed behind them as they struggled to force open the heavy rusted gate. A low grumbling sound echoed in the distance and lightning flashes illuminated the castle's towering shape.

As they looked upward, the tall slender turrets seemed like giant guardians. Highlighted by the brilliant lightning flashes, their strange ominous appearance appeared to be warning them of the dangers that lurked within.

The strong winds buffeted them as if it were trying to keep them from achieving their entrance into the castle grounds, its invisible hands kept pulling at their clothes hindering their progress. As more and more clouds consumed what little moonlight was left, darkness over powered them. Soon tiny droplets of rain began to fall and splattered on their already freezing hands.

"Hurry Borgda, help me with this gate before the rain starts to come down heavier. It's not locked, just rusted in place. Who knows when it was last opened? Maybe the castle is empty after all, and we will have it all to ourselves?"

"If we could only be so lucky, but I would prefer a few comely servant wenches to help warm my bed and chase away the chill in my bones."

"Ha! With that ugly face of yours, what wench would dare share your bed," Bogard laughed at his brother, as he pressed his shoulder against the heavy gate and shoved with all his might.

"I don't happen to have a beautiful faithful wife waiting for me back home, so I'll take anything that will have me," he grunted as they finally forced open the gate. Its loud creaking hinges echoing loudly in the night.

"Yes!" They both shouted in unison.

"And who are you calling ugly, you son of an old sow? Remember, when you look at me, it's like looking at yourself in a mirror," Borgda replied Laughing, the two twins raced toward the sheltered portico.

"Do you think anyone will answer if we knocked?"

"I don't know, but what have we got to lose? It's freezing out here. Let's go find out what fate has in store for us."

As Borgda reached for the handle of the door knocker, he jumped backward and quickly pulled back his hand. A flash of lightning revealed the head and body of a bat with a three foot wing span. The bat's mouth was wide open, and large white fangs seemed to glow in the darkness, threatening to bite anyone who reached inside for the brass ring within the confines of its mouth.

"Hey! That thing's alive. It tried to bite me." Borgda said wiping his hand on the front of his woolen cape.

"What's the matter brother, lost your nerve? Move aside, I'll do it."

Slowly reaching for the ring protruding from the gaping mouth of the bat, Bogard had second thoughts. The bat's eyes seemed to glint and almost move following his every movement, as the lightning illuminated its horrendous features.

The creature's head was about nine inches wide. The ring lay deep within its throat, and large four inch fangs covered most of the opening. In order to reach the brass ring Bogard had to turn his hand side ways between the cursed fangs and deep into the blackened hole of the bat's mouth. Careful not to touch the pointed white fangs, Bogard grasped the ring and pulled outward.

The ring was attached to a heavy cord that disappeared somewhere into the jowls of the bat. A loud clap of thunder seemed to be extolling a warning, and just as Bogard pulled the ring the bat's mouth and the gleaming white fangs snapped shut entrapping his hand. Somewhere deep within the castle...a gong sounded. If his hand had been turned straight across the pointy white fangs would have punctured his wrist and drawn blood. Bogard struggled trying to free his right hand but he was held tight in its grasp.

"Borgda, help me! I can't get my hand out," Bogard shouted as he struggled against the bats fangs. Panic assailed his brain. His heart started pounding faster. Twisting and turning his arm in all directions failed to release him from his prison. His breath was fast and hard, with pain mounting in his chest. His body was shaking in terror as he tried unsuccessfully to free himself.

"Release the ring. LET GO OF THE RING!," Borgda shouted, as he tried desperately to pull apart the fangs.

Still trembling in fear, he did as his brother instructed, Bogard opened his hand and released the ring. As he did, the ring slid back into place and the powerful fangs snapped upward freeing Bogard's hand. He quickly pulled his hand out and jumped backward away from the door. Bogard shivered and rubbed his wrist with his left hand. The feeling of fear still evident in his eyes. Beads of sweat dotted his brow. It was a few moments before his breathing became normal again.

Upon opening his hand he noticed his grip on the ring was so tight that his nails dug deep within his palm, and four crescent moon shaped arc's of blood appeared on his skin as if by magic.

"What was that? I guess they don't like visitors here, or, they don't want visitors to leave."

The two brothers looked at each other and nodded, an unvoiced understanding between them. Just as they turned to leave and take their chances with the storm, the heavy hinged, burled black walnut door creaked slowly open.

The twins stopped dead in their tracks and simultaneously reached for their dirks as they spun around turning to face who, or whatever unspeakable creature opened the door. They preferred to face their demons, rather than be attacked from behind, and were totally unprepared for what they saw.

**************


A lit candelabra appeared in the doorway held high in the grip of long slender white fingers. A halo of light shone all around the tall slender woman in the darkness. The candles flickered in the wind and the woman beckoned them to enter.

She was the most beautiful creature Borgda had ever seen, and her piercing black eyes seemed to be focused on Bogard who released his hold on his dagger. Jealousy was beginning to consume Borgda. His brother was married. They looked identical, so why were all the women always attracted to Bogard, and not to him? Bogard seemed to be returning her favors and was enraptured by her. It's as if they don't even know I exist, he pondered.

Gracefully, the elegant creature stepped back and waved them in. She transferred the heavy candelabra to her left hand and proceeded to close and bolt the thick wooden door with her right hand. The boys couldn't help but notice her every movement was like a graceful swan. Her long slender white neck gleamed in the candlelight, a stark contrast to the silky tight fitting black dress that accentuated her every curve. Her decolletage, left little of her ample bosom to their imagination.

Borgda watched and wondered as the woman gently reached for Bogard's right hand and carefully turned it palm up. She stared down at his opened palm and slowly raised it to her parted lips. While staring deeply into Bogard's eyes her tongue slithered outward and slowly licked away the fresh blood from the four open wounds on Bogard's hand. Bogard just stared at the beautiful temptress as if in a trance.

A look of euphoria shone on her face as her tongue slowly licked her lips, savoring the taste in anticipation of what was yet to come.

Borgda coughed and cleared his throat, breaking the intimate moment between the enchanting woman and Bogard. Looking up she appeared to noticed Borgda for the first time. Her eyes opened wider as she looked from Borgda to Bogard, and then back again to Borgda.

"Welcome, to Castle Batwing," she stated as her eyes riveted back on Bogard.

Her dismissal of him for the second time, as if he were an unwanted pest, angered Borgda.

"I am Bathella, and this is my home. You are welcome to stay and rest here until after the storm abates. Come, follow me into the library, you can warm yourselves there by the fire. I will send my servant to fetch you some food and drink, I'm sure you must be starving. The food will be good and the drink will be strong, I can assure you of that."

They followed behind watching her every movement as her hips swayed with each enticing step she took. Lustful hunger was obscuring their sense of reasoning, and they were being ruled by their loins instead of their loyalty to each other. Like salivating dogs chasing after a bitch in heat they would soon be fighting each other for the chance to bed the beautiful Bathella.

It was almost dawn, and the storm seemed to be abating. Several claps of thunder could still be heard in the distance but the rain had ceased and the winds calmed almost as soon as they entered the castle.

The interior of the castle was kept as dark as a tomb, except for the occasional candle and the candelabra used to light the way. Bathella led them through several long dark corridors and they followed her willingly into a large room with more books than either of them had ever seen in their thirty-seven years of life. The huge stone hearth was ablaze with a warming fire. This seemed to be the only room in the castle that was warm and alive. The glow from the fireplace gave the room a cozy, welcoming feeling.

"You can remove your wet cloaks and drape them on the rack near the fire. I will send my servant to you shortly. You may stay in this room as long as you like, the chairs are very comfortable, it is the only room other than my own, that can offer you any warmth from the cold. Make yourselves comfortable, I will see you later tonight," she then turned slowly, and quietly exited the room.

The two brothers stood silently and watched as she disappeared in the darkness. A foggy haze seemed to lift from the eyes of the twins once Bathella left.

"Wow! What a magnificent creature she is." Bogard whispered, warming himself by the roaring fire.

"Woah Bo! Remember brother, you are married. If there will be any wooing done tonight, it will be done by me," Borgda said as he turned his back to the fire trying to warm his backside.

"Did you see the way she looked at me? I could almost melt into her eyes. I felt as though I had no will of my own."

"I know, I could see it. She wants something from you Bo, I can feel it. She wants to use you, and if we are not careful, she will."

"Why, you old dog, you are jealous."

"Damn right I'm jealous! Who wouldn't want such an alluring creature fawning all over them. Hey Bo, what's with your hand?"

"What...what are you talking about?"

"Your hand, why did she lick your hand?"

Bogard looked down at the palm of his right hand and stared at it. The blood and the cuts were gone. His hand looked as if there had never anything wrong with it.

"Let me see your hand." Grabbing his brother's wrist, Borgda pulled it toward him. "Open your hand." Borgda stared quizzically at Bogard's palm. "There's nothing there, so what was that all about?"

"No-nothing, it's nothing. I don't know? Forget it."

Just then a small weasel of a man walked in carrying a tray full of food and drink. He placed the tray of food on the table in front of the fire, set out two gold colored goblets and poured a thick red wine into each, bowed at the two men and then backed out of the room slowly.

"Who or what was that? This place gets weirder by the minute."

"I don't know and I certainly don't care. All I care about is getting warm, dry, having a good meal and getting some well needed rest. Let's eat," Bogard said.

The food looked very appetizing. There was fresh fruits and vegetables, red wine and hot meat. The meat was not something the men were familiar with, it had an unusual texture. It was too tender to be venison, and too fatty to be lamb, beef or pork, but it was delicious. There was also stewed tripe and boiled potatoes. Borgda wasn't sure about the wine. It was a little too thick for wine, he just sniffed at it and put it back down on the table. Bogard didn't care, he was too hungry to care about anything, he just ate and drank everything, he even drank Borgda's wine.

Within fifteen minutes of finishing their meal, the two brothers fell asleep in the comfortable brown leather arm chairs. The weaselly old man came in, looked at the sleeping brothers, smiled, cleared away the dirty dishes, and left.

"My mistress will be pleased," he chuckled to himself looking at the empty goblets.

Borgda slept for about two hours, and awoke refreshed enough to do some exploring. He pulled aside the heavy tapestry covering the tall window and noticed it was almost noon. He could tell approximately what time it was by the placement of the sun in the sky. Looking down into the courtyard he noticed an overgrown path leading up into the woods.

"That must be the way we came down from the mountain." he whispered. "Wake up Bo, you've had enough rest. Let's see what we can find out about our hostess."

Borgda poked and prodded his brother, but Bogard was not about to wake up. He seemed to be in a very deep drug induced sleep.

"Okay Bo, I'll find out what I can without you."

Borgda left the library and began to search for their hostess. The rooms were all dark, and the drapes were closed. No fresh air or natural light seemed to dare intrude within these depressing walls. The only light came from the occasional lit candles scattered around the castle. Not wanting to let anyone know he was prowling about, Borgda left all the candles in place. He preferred to do his snooping in the dark.

Borgda heard voices, so he followed the sound until he came upon two servants talking in what appeared to be the kitchen. One servant was the weasel that delivered their food and the other seemed to be the cook.

"Our two guests never knew what hit them. They will sleep for hours. We must prepare the room before our mistress wakes up. The sacrificial altar hasn't been used in many years, tonight will be the start of a new bloodline."

'Sacrificial altar? What kind of mad house is this? Who do they intend to sacrifice? Not me, I hope. I think we need to leave this place, and quickly,' Borgda thought as he turned back.

Hurrying back the way he came, Borgda suddenly stopped to admire some of the many treasures scattered throughout the castle. There were golden goblets and platters encrusted with many jewels displayed on the sideboards. The candlesticks, also gold, were intricately carved with the figure of a bat head. He decided that taking a few trinkets from someone who is obviously not interested in their well being, will more then make up for any discomfort they might have suffered at the hands of these crazy people.

'As soon as I can find something to carry them in I will come back and collect a few things for the journey back home. This may end up a very profitable excursion after all. I hope Bogard is awake, I don't want to stay here any longer than we have to.'

He hurriedly returned to the library, making a mental note as to where all the treasures were. After several attempts at trying to wake Bogard, he finally gave up.

"I bet that weasel put something into the drinks," he whispered, "and you my thirsty brother drank a double dose. I guess I will have to plan our escape myself."

Borgda knew the weasel would come back often to check on them. So he threw several logs in the fire to keep the room warm and to eliminate any reason for the weasel to enter the room. He devised a plan to place items from around the room in his chair and covered over them with his now dry cloak, hoping that if he were gone when the weasel came, it would look like they were both still asleep. He also covered Bogard who's chair could be seen easily from the doorway. He hoped the weasel would not enter the room as long as he thought the brothers were still asleep.

Borgda snuck out of the room being careful not to make any sound. He kept in the shadows so his eyes would remain accustomed to the darkness. His ears listening for any little sound. He memorized the shortest way to the kitchen and the front exit of the castle, in case of a needed hasty escape.

The heavy drapes allowed no sunlight to penetrate into the depths of each room, so he used the shadows to spy on the two men that entered a large cavernous room. Their whispers were inaudible, but their movements could be followed easily. Borgda watched as the two strangers pulled aside a huge tapestry and exited through a secret doorway. He followed them down a long flight of circular stairs. Their voices echoed in the confined space and he could make out bits and pieces of their conversation. Leaning against the circular stone wall he descended one step at a time, cautiously listening for the two men.

"Fresh meat...did you see...strong men...good blood. Mistress pleased...tasted a sample."

"The other...food...all of us...."

"...long time...no blood. Hungry."

"Tonight...mistress...up...we dine."

Borgda had heard enough. He waited for the men to disappear, then turned to leave. He heard voices coming from above so he continued downward. At the foot of the stairs he turned and lay down on the floor in the shadows at the base of a long wall, hoping not to be seen.

A short stocky woman wrapped in a white robe, turned and let her eyes scan the area around the the stairs.

"I feel a presence here," she said to the man clad in a very similar, but red robe. "I can feel a heart beating very fast."

"You must sense the two hearts waiting for us upstairs."

"You're right as usual my demented fiend."

Turning to enter the sacrificial room they both laughed, at her choice of words.

Borgda lay his forehead on the floor, waiting for his heart to slow down. His muscles ached from the tenseness of the moment. Shaking violently, he almost stumbled as he tried to stand.

'That was close. Who was that woman? How did she know I was there? We have to get out of here, now! I hope Bo is awake,' he thought.

Scrambling up the stairs Borgda prayed that no one else would enter through the secret passage while he was still inside. He heard voices coming toward the entrance and he hoped he could make it through the tapestry before he was discovered. He squeezed between the wall and the left side of the tapestry, just as two more strangers entered on the right. He held his breath until they descended the stairs.

Quickly he headed back toward the library staying in the shadows. As he approached the library he saw the weasel, also wearing a red robe, standing in the doorway looking in at Bogard. The light from the fireplace filtering into the hallway illuminated an evil smile that spread on his lips.

"Sleep soundly my friends, for it will be dark in a few more hours. When my mistress awakens the fun will begin. Our fun, not yours." The weasel turned and passed in front of where Borgda was hiding.

"Good, he still thinks I am asleep. If I can get Bo to wake up, we can flee this God forsaken place."

After the weasel left, Borgda rushed to Bogard's side.

"BO, BO, WAKE UP! We have to get out of here, NOW!
Come on Bo get UP! Why did you have to drink so damned much? I can't carry you and not be seen. GET UP!"

"Wha...What do you want? Leave me alone. I'm dreaming about the beautiful enchantress."

"Get up Bo. If you want to live, you'll come with me now?"

"What's all the fuss? Ouch! What's wrong with my head? I feel so dizzy. Let me sleep just a little longer."

"No, get your lazy butt up now. They're going to kill us if we don't leave here. You've been drugged, that's why you're dizzy. Come on, stand up. I'll help you."

"Alright, alright, just give me a minute."

"We don't have a minute, hurry. Grab your cloak."

"We have to be very quiet, I don't know how many there are."

"Who are you talking about?" (yawn) "I'm so sleepy."

"Come on follow me, and be very quiet. We have to stay in the shadows."

Borgda led Bo down the twisting hallway, stopping in the kitchen for food and wine, and he filled a burlap sack with the goblets and platters and swung it over his shoulder. Bogard realizing now what was going on, got into the stealthy mood and was back in form. He began helping Borgda pilfer what they could. Borgda knew the exit was just down the hall and as they approached the entrance hall they discovered a solitary sentry standing guard.

"Wait here," Bogard whispered, as he tried to sneak around the perimeter of the darkened room. Just as the sentry was about to turn and see Borgda, Bogard distracted him by coughing and clearing his throat.

"Who's that? Corinth is that you? Is it time yet?"

Suddenly, Bogard hit the sentry on the head with a heavy pitcher. The sentry slumped limply to the floor.

"Hurry, let's go."

Borgda unlatched the door and the two of them fled off into the forest. A heavy mist was rolling in, filtering through the trees as the sun was beginning to set. The heavy mist created by the coolness of the oncoming night air, mixed with the warmth of the earth, hid the two brothers. By the time the alarm was sounded they were well into the dense forest. They could hear voices in the distance and an occasional arrow whizzed past them in the dark. Suddenly, Bogard fell....


To be continued



"The New Day-lighters--The Cave--IVOpen in new Window.



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