They trudged on for another fifteen minutes before reaching the stone bridge leading up to the castle. Staying close to the wall, they crept through the arched gatehouse and headed into the open courtyard.
Elliot jabbed his finger at the huge oak door, the entrance as tall as two men. “Is that the only way in?”
Alexander shrugged. “I can’t remember much about my time here and often question if my terrified mind concocted some of the images.” He glanced up and scanned the old building. “They built the castle on the cliff as a means of protection. I doubt there would be any other entrance.”
Elliot glanced up at the eerie facade rising up from the rocky crag, at the winged gargoyles protruding from the stone walls, at the slate conical spires glistening in the moonlight. In its entirety, the medieval building roused feelings of grief, despair, and utter hopelessness.
Swallowing down his apprehension, Elliot said, “Well, I have no intention of scaling the wall, so we’ve no choice but to knock the door.”
“Heaven knows how many of them are living in there.” Alexander scoured the row of windows above, his tone conveying a hint of fear.
“Well, we will achieve nothing standing on the doorstep. And we are one of them now. We must remember we have strength and power of our own. Besides, we have too much at stake to walk away, too much to lose.”
Alexander nodded. “I agree. Knock the door and we will compel her servant to let us in.”
They stood in front of the arched entrance. Elliot pursed his lips as he raised the heavy knocker and let it fall. The hollow thud echoed through the hallway beyond. They stepped back and waited, but no one came. He tried again before turning the iron ring that served as a handle, surprised to find it opened without protest.
“Perhaps they rarely have visitors,” he said noting the confusion marring Alexander’s brow.
“Or perhaps they have nothing to fear as there’s an army of night walkers beyond this door all desperate for blood.” Alexander’s thoughts were bordering on irrational.
Elliot pushed the door wide enough for them to slip inside, the creaks and groans a reflection of its size and age. Peering into the dark hall, Elliot was relieved to find it empty.
“You’ve been in here before,” he whispered to Alexander. “Where would she take him?”
“I remember climbing a spiral staircase up to a tower room that overlooked the village. Other than that, I recall nothing else.”
Elliot pointed to the corridor leading off to the right. “If I’ve got my bearings, that would mean we need to proceed this way.”
They walked stealthily through the hall, over the ornately engraved paving: dusty memorial stones for the dead. Climbing the first staircase they came to, they wandered through wide corridors littered with paintings of solemn-looking ancestors, colourful tapestries of biblical scenes. A vast array of free-standing candelabras lined their way, though the candles were unlit.
Upon hearing the sound of booted footsteps, they hid inside a curtained recess, peered at the hulking fellow trudging along oblivious to the intruders.
When they reached the narrow spiral staircase, Alexander tapped him on the shoulder. “I remember those torch shaped wall sconces and the stained glass window at the top. It’s this way.”
They had taken but a few steps when they heard the deep masculine groan. Elliot’s heart skipped a beat. He stopped to listen, the accompanying words becoming clearer the more he focused.
“Oh, God, what are you doing to me?” The masculine voice begged for help, for mercy.
“I am giving you what you deserve. I am giving you everything you deserve,” came the devil woman’s wicked reply.
Without any doubt, Elliot knew the man she held captive was Leo. Relief coursed through him. Leo was alive but the golden-haired creature that had claimed their humanity took pleasure in torturing him.
“We need to save him,” Elliot whispered. “He will be too weak to help us, but we must overpower her.”
Alexander nodded, and they moved quietly up the stone steps, stopped at the top and peered through the open doorway.
The sight that met them was more horrifying than Elliot had imagined. Leo’s arms were tied to the bedposts, evoking memories of the way she had tied him to the iron rings embedded into the walls of the mausoleum. Amidst the mounds of crumpled sheets, the evil temptress had straddled Leo’s naked body as she sucked and nibbled on his neck like a starving woman would a juicy slab of beef.
Leo’s head fell back against the pillow. He closed his eyes as a weak moan fell from his trembling lips. “Oh, God help me.” Obviously, his poor friend could not take any more.
The devil woman raised her head, and Elliot could see the blood trickling from two circular wounds on Leo’s neck.
Anger flared. To witness such a cruel form of punishment made him want to retch. But he had to be strong for Leo. Noticing the sword on the floor by the bed, he knew he could reach it before she would have time to react.
He waited until she resumed her wicked ministrations, until she bent her head and licked the blood from his neck with the tip of her tongue as she writhed on top of his helpless body.
Elliot nodded to Alexander and then crept into the room, grabbed the sword from the floor and with two hands thrust it high above his head. “Get your filthy bloodthirsty fangs off him.”