“Are you sure you wish to live here?” His guide frowned up at the gray stone before them. “This place is said to be full of ghouls and demons.”
“Oh, yes! I’ve always wanted roommates!” He laughed and patted the man’s shoulder as he took his first steps up the castle’s cobblestone walkway.
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There are a variety of ways to get a fresh start. Purchasing a purported haunted, cursed castle off a Craiglist ad for cheap was not a common one, but it would work well enough for him.
His guide met him at the local gas station, the only one in the area. Colby stepped out of his truck to shake the man’s hand and learned that his name was Edward. Call him Ed.
Now, Ed was born in this little town and lived there for the entirety of his 55 years. “It’s a bit out of the way,” he warned, pointing out the castle on a map for Colby.
“That’s all right,” Colby replied. He’d known that when he bought the place, though today would be the first time he saw it in person. There had been little effort in the ad to disguise the disrepair it was in, so his expectations were low.
Ed grunted and chewed on his lip. “It’s up a long, winding road. Ain’t no phone service up there, so won’t be anybody to help you if you need it.”
Colby shrugged.
Ed sighed and climbed into his own truck, motioning for Colby to follow him. The progress was slow. The road was long and twisty, made of dirt softened by the recent rain. Ed was cautious, and three times they had to stop to pull branches and felled logs out of the road. Colby noticed the way Ed’s eyes darted to the tree line as they worked together to roll a log to the side. Colby recognized it, that edge of fear. The fear of someone who doesn’t know what is out there but suspects he would not like it.
Ed was quick to get back into his truck.
The lights of the town had long since disappeared behind them. This deep, the trees seemed like impenetrable walls on either side, blocking out the watery sunlight. Without warning, the road opened up after a turn. The trees fell away behind them and they were rolling over tall, thick grass that spread out to either side and devoured the road. This was the first of the castle’s defences, meant in the old days to keep enemy soldiers from sneaking up to the castle walls undetected and depriving them of cover.
And there was the castle.
It was small, as castles went. But a small castle still made for a large house. The advertisement said that there were seven bedrooms, plus an additional, smaller room that could be used as a bedroom or an office. There was a dining room, a small ball room, a kitchen, and several primitive bathrooms. However, there had been no actual photos of the interior provided, so Colby would be walking into a surprise.
He parked his truck next to Ed’s in a spot where the grass was shorter and patchier. There was no proper parking area, as the place had been abandoned for so long.
Colby hopped to the ground without bothering to lock the truck. If what he’d heard was right, nobody would come near the castle. It was in no danger of being stolen. Unless, of course, the faeries made off with it.
But that was silly.
Faeries couldn’t drive.
Ed hovered near his truck, trying to appear casual by leaning his arm against the side. But his arm was tense, and there was a sheen of sweat over his bald head. The fear rolled off him.
He had been the only person willing to escort Colby to the property. Even the realtor hadn’t been able to hide her distaste for the place. “There’s just something about it,” she’d said over the phone, and Colby could hear the shudder in her voice. “It’s eerie. I’m not surprised people think it’s cursed. Our photographer wouldn’t even go inside.”
Colby held out his hand for Ed to shake. “Thanks for the escort,” he said, giving Ed’s meatier hand a firm squeeze. “Appreciate it.”
Ed’s dark eyes held worry. “You sure you want to live here?” he asked. He eyed the grey stone before them, from the crumbling wall that acted as a fence for what had been the outer garden to the sturdier walls that made up the main structure. “They say the place is haunted. Full of ghouls, demons, maybe vampires.”
“Do you believe in monsters?” Colby asked.
Ed shrugged and rubbed the sweat from the top of his head. “Not unless I’m standing here, I don’t. ‘Cept human ones.” He shrugged again. “But there’s something about this place that brings out the superstition in me.”
Colby laughed and went to his truck bed, lifting out a suitcase. That would get him through the night. He could unload the boxes and go shopping for supplies tomorrow – it looked like dark fell early around here, and he wasn’t eager to navigate the road on his own in the dark.
“I guess you don’t believe in monsters, seeing as you bought the place,” Ed remarked.
Colby set his suitcase by the wall and went back to pull a cat carrier out of the back of the truck. He laughed again. “I wouldn’t be so sure,” he said with a grin. “I always thought it’d be kind of fun to have roommates.”
Ed eyed him as though Colby was confirming a suspicion that he wasn’t quite sane. “Well,” he said, pulling his truck door open and hesitating for another moment. “There is an apartment with a vacancy, if you change your mind.”
“Thanks, but me and Popcorn will be just fine.”
The look of judgment sent his way made him raise his eyebrows. Then he realized he was being judged for what he named his cat.
Despite the look, Ed didn’t comment. Instead, he heaved himself back into his truck with a sigh. “Well, I’ll see you around then,” he said in a tone that made it clear that he doubted he would.
“Yep. Thanks again, Ed.”
Colby watched Ed’s battered pickup pull away and disappear into the trees. Then he picked up Popcorn’s cat carrier and his suitcase and turned toward his new home. “Well, Popcorn, guess we’d better go see what we’ve got to work with.”
The situation wasn’t as dire as Colby feared. The house was wired for electricity, though it was outdated and did not work. It would be expensive but not impossible to get it rewired. Assuming, of course, he could convince any of the locals to even come out here to do it. Hm. That might be a challenge. But if it was impossible, he would get by just fine without electricity. He had done it before.
The plumbing worked, though he found a nasty surprise in one of the bathrooms. He closed the door quickly to avoid releasing the possum family into the rest of the house and made a mental note to beware of wildlife while he was looking around.
He didn’t want to let Popcorn loose to roam the house until he was sure it was sound.
He found the cleanest bedroom and stripped the bedding off the bed. He had a sleeping bag for tonight, and he could buy a new mattress and bedding tomorrow. Once he made sure there were no holes for Popcorn to escape through, he let her out of the cat carrier to explore the room.
She went straight under the bed and stayed there, which was to be expected. Just because he liked new places didn’t mean Popcorn shared his opinion.
As night fell, Colby set up candles from a box he’d found in the kitchen. There was no lighter included, but he had his own. He sat cross-legged in the centre of the big, barren bed, and he had to admit that the eerie glow cast by the dozen candles around the room gave it a creepy ambience befitting of a haunted castle. He tried to keep still, but it was hard not to squirm in excitement.
Ghouls, demons, and monsters came out at night.
He didn’t have to wait long. Old buildings like this were never silent, but the mundane creaking of wood and whistling of wind was overshadowed by loud, rapid footsteps on the upper floor.
Colby’s face split in a wide grin and he leapt from bed to floor in one smooth motion. He reached into his suitcase for his axe and darted into the hall to meet his roommates.
The dying screams of the possum family told him where to go. He darted through the open doorway to find the creature crouched on the floor, blood dripping from its teeth as it gulped down chunks of possum.
Colby paused in the doorway and leaned on his axe. “Hey there, roomie!” he said as the creature’s head whipped toward him. Hm. His research hadn’t indicated that a werewolf had taken up residence, and yet here one was, glowing amber eyes, bristling grey fur, and long dripping snout and all.
Werewolves weren’t solitary, but Colby didn’t smell any other wolves nearby. A wolf without a pack had nobody to keep it sane.
Too bad, Colby thought. He brought the axe up as the werewolf gathered itself and lunged for his throat. There was nothing human in its eyes. Putting it down was the most humane thing to do.
He severed its head with a thwack, making an expression of distaste as the head thumped to the floor and rolled.
It was normal for a werewolf to regain human shape upon death. This one did not, which confirmed for Colby that it was beyond saving. Too bad. Werewolves had strong family values and made good company.
He smelled rather than heard the approach of his next potential roommate. He glanced back at the hallway to find it empty. Good thing he thought to look up.
Colby braced the now bloody axe on his shoulder as he smiled at the woman clinging to the ceiling. Her pale, bloodless face and dark eyes betrayed nothing but curiosity. Her teeth were almost as sharp as his own, but he had more of them. “Huh, a vampire an a werewolf in the same space,” he commented, looking between her and the crumpled body in the room behind him. “That’s a first.”
The woman’s beautiful, lifeless face took on a pout. “I was here first,” she said. “He was an invader.”
“I see.” He tilted his head. “Don’t vampires need to be invited in?”
She hissed in annoyance. “I was, a long time ago. As long as I don’t leave, I can stay without invitation from the new owner.” She eyed him. “You are the new owner, are you not?”
“That’s right. You’ve got good ears, to hear that even though no one will set foot in the place.”
She shrugged.
Colby drummed his fingers on the handle of his axe and eyed the vampire thoughtfully. He’d told Ed the truth – he did think it would be kind of fun to have a roommate. Life got lonely when you were immortal. Maybe she thought the same. Or maybe she was waiting for him to turn his back so that she could eat him. Never could tell with vampires.
He pointed the axe at her. “I don’t mind if you stay, but it’s gotta be on my terms. No trying to eat me or any guests I bring by, or I’ll chop your head off like I did your friend over there.” He pointed at the bloody corpse with the axe.
She hissed at him again. “He was not my friend,” she said, insulted. “I planned to eat him, but you got here first.”
“I see.” He waved for her to go ahead. “By all means. Just clean up when you’re done.” Would save him from having to do it.
The vampire looked wary, but she dropped to the floor. She was formless and silent, which explained how she had snuck up on him earlier.
It was the scent of blood and dust that gave her away. All vampires smelled like that.
“You got a name?” he asked as she picked her way around him.
She hesitated before answering. “Lois. And you?”
“Call me Colby.”
“It’s not your name?” she asked. It must have been the phrasing that caught her attention.
Colby shrugged. “I’ve had a few names.” He glanced away as Lois knelt next to the fallen werewolf. He wasn’t squeamish, exactly, but there was something about watching a vampire lick blood from the stump where a head should be that turned the stomach.
“I suppose the cat is yours?” Lois asked.
She could smell Popcorn, either on him or in the halls when he’d carried her up. “Yep, and don’t you eat her,” Colby warned.
She rolled her eyes. “Tell that to the ghoul.”
“Where can I find him?”
“Attic, usually, though he may have come out for the kitty.” She paused, then answered his unspoken question with reluctance. “I’ve claimed the basement.”
“And the demon?” he asked. He was already moving down the hallway. Despite his attitude, he was worried about Popcorn.
Her eyes narrowed, but he didn’t feel the need to explain that he could smell smoke and sulphur clinging to the air, telltale signs that there had been demons about.
Lois’ lips moved as though in a sigh, but it was all pantomime. Her lungs were long since dead and could not longer draw in air. “He crawls down the chimney every couple days. We’re kind of… seeing each other.”
“Gotcha,” he said, though he could’ve done without the mental images drawn by that last bit of information. “Enjoy your meal, Lois.”
He could hear her slurping as he walked back to his room.
The ghoul hadn’t managed to gain entry, but it was clawing ineffectually at the protection spell Colby had placed upon the door.
“Excuse me, sir, but that is my room,” Colby said. As he spoke, the ghoul turned its head toward him. It had sunken pits instead of eyes, but Colby still got the impression that it was looking him over. It leaned in closer – it had to be about seven feet tall, its limbs elongated and gaunt. But he felt no hostility, so he allowed its inspection without complaint.
“Who?” it asked in a garbled voice.
“Colby. I own this place now,” Colby replied.
“Live… here?”
“Yep.”
“I live here.”
Colby smiled. “No problem. Just don’t bother my cat, and I won’t bother you,” he said. He had no intention of kicking out any of the inhabitants that weren’t inclined to kill him.
The ghoul looked at Colby, then at the door. It seemed to sigh. “Understood.”
“Great.” Colby dared to approach in order to open the door. The ghoul took a step back to let him by and didn’t charge through the opening, which was promising. Even when Colby paused with the door partially open. “What can I call you?” he asked.
The ghoul looked at him for a long moment. Colby didn’t mind waiting for it to come up with a name it liked.
“Abe,” was what it settled on.
“All right. Good night, Abe.”
“…Good night.”
Popcorn was still hiding under the bed, which was understandable, so she didn’t come out to greet Colby as he closed the door. He flopped out on the bed with a heavy sigh. Hopefully he’d met all the castle’s inhabitants, and tomorrow he could start fixing up the place without any of them trying to kill him. He knew he was the interloper here, human ownership rights or not. He had no intention of bothering them more than necessary in the years he lived here before he moved on.
And he would move on, someday. Moving ever onward was the fate of an immortal.
If you enjoyed this story, you may also enjoy my ghost story, “Poltergeist.”