30 Good Horror Stories

By Alfred Bekker

30 Good Horror Stories

by Alfred Bekker

 

About this volume:

 

 

 

 

Stories that describe supernatural, mysterious or grotesque events. Classic horror literature!

This book contains the following stories:

 

Alfred Bekker: Corcoran and the Killer Demon

Alfred Bekker: Creatures of the Night

Alfred Bekker: A diabolical ability

Alfred Bekker: The Demon

Alfred Bekker: A vampire at the dentist's office

Alfred Bekker: The Garden of Death

Alfred Bekker: Food for the journey

Alfred Bekker: The Feathered God

Alfred Bekker: A complicated relationship

Alfred Bekker: Cobwebs

Alfred Bekker: Murder on Course

Alfred Bekker: All just a dream

Alfred Bekker: A shadow in the mirror

Alfred Bekker: The bell

Alfred Bekker: The Sicilian Bride

Alfred Bekker: Patricia and the curse

Alfred Bekker: The bird hunter

Alfred Bekker: The Lord of the Black Death

Alfred Bekker: Night ride

Alfred Bekker: Haunting in the cellar

Alfred Bekker: The image of the magician

Alfred Bekker: The Ice Monster

Alfred Bekker: Black Shadow

Alfred Bekker: Evil reigns

Alfred Bekker: The Bone God

Alfred Bekker: Corcoran and the Headman

Alfred Bekker: No reflection

Alfred Bekker: The essence

Alfred Bekker: The jewel from the stars

Alfred Bekker: Tiberius Elroy and the eternal death

• Language: English
• Publisher: Alfred Bekker
• Release date: Dec 8, 2022
• ISBN: 9798215756454

Alfred Bekker

Alfred Bekker wurde am 27.9.1964 in Borghorst (heute Steinfurt) geboren und wuchs in den münsterländischen Gemeinden Ladbergen und Lengerich auf. 1984 machte er Abitur, leistete danach Zivildienst auf der Pflegestation eines Altenheims und studierte an der Universität Osnabrück für das Lehramt an Grund- und Hauptschulen. Insgesamt 13 Jahre war er danach im Schuldienst tätig, bevor er sich ausschließlich der Schriftstellerei widmete. Schon als Student veröffentlichte Bekker zahlreiche Romane und Kurzgeschichten. Er war Mitautor zugkräftiger Romanserien wie Kommissar X, Jerry Cotton, Rhen Dhark, Bad Earth und Sternenfaust und schrieb eine Reihe von Kriminalromanen. Angeregt durch seine Tätigkeit als Lehrer wandte er sich schließlich auch dem Kinder- und Jugendbuch zu, wo er Buchserien wie 'Tatort Mittelalter', 'Da Vincis Fälle', 'Elbenkinder' und 'Die wilden Orks' entwickelte. Seine Fantasy-Romane um 'Das Reich der Elben', die 'DrachenErde-Saga' und die 'Gorian'-Trilogie machten ihn einem großen Publikum bekannt. Darüber hinaus schreibt er weiterhin Krimis und gemeinsam mit seiner Frau unter dem Pseudonym Conny Walden historische Romane. Einige Gruselromane für Teenager verfasste er unter dem Namen John Devlin. Für Krimis verwendete er auch das Pseudonym Neal Chadwick. Seine Romane erschienen u.a. bei Blanvalet, BVK, Goldmann, Lyx, Schneiderbuch, Arena, dtv, Ueberreuter und Bastei Lübbe und wurden in zahlreiche Sprachen übersetzt.

Book preview

Stories that describe supernatural, mysterious or grotesque events. Classic horror literature!

This book contains the following stories:

Alfred Bekker: Corcoran and the Killer Demon

Alfred Bekker: Creatures of the Night

Alfred Bekker: A diabolical ability

Alfred Bekker: The Demon

Alfred Bekker: A vampire at the dentist's office

Alfred Bekker: The Garden of Death

Alfred Bekker: Food for the journey

Alfred Bekker: The Feathered God

Alfred Bekker: A complicated relationship

Alfred Bekker: Cobwebs

Alfred Bekker: Murder on Course

Alfred Bekker: All just a dream

Alfred Bekker: A shadow in the mirror

Alfred Bekker: The bell

Alfred Bekker: The Sicilian Bride

Alfred Bekker: Patricia and the curse

Alfred Bekker: The bird hunter

Alfred Bekker: The Lord of the Black Death

Alfred Bekker: Night ride

Alfred Bekker: Haunting in the cellar

Alfred Bekker: The image of the magician

Alfred Bekker: The Ice Monster

Alfred Bekker: Black Shadow

Alfred Bekker: Evil reigns

Alfred Bekker: The Bone God

Alfred Bekker: Corcoran and the Headman

Alfred Bekker: No reflection

Alfred Bekker: The essence

Alfred Bekker: The jewel from the stars

Alfred Bekker: Tiberius Elroy and the eternal death

Copyright

A CassiopeiaPress book: CASSIOPEIAPRESS, UKSAK E-Books, Alfred Bekker, Alfred Bekker presents, Casssiopeia-XXX-press, Alfredbooks, Uksak Special Edition, Cassiopeiapress Extra Edition, Cassiopeiapress/AlfredBooks and BEKKERpublishing are imprints of

Alfred Bekker (https://www.lovelybooks.de/autor/Alfred-Bekker/)

© Roman by Author /

COVER STEVE MAYER AFTER MOTIFS BY BARON GRAD

© of this issue 2022 by AlfredBekker/CassiopeiaPress, Lengerich/Westphalia

The invented persons have nothing to do with actual living persons. Similarities in names are coincidental and not intended.

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Everything about fiction!

Corcoran and the killer demon

Alfred Bekker

The being materialized in the large entrance hall of Jean Riquessa's villa on Noble Hill in San Francisco. This villa was sealed off like a fortress, surrounded by a two-meter-high wall with a cast-iron grille on top. In the garden, day and night, nearly twenty bodyguards with machine pistols and man-sharp dogs patrolled, taking turns in a total of four shifts. A small private army kept Jean Riquessa under arms, all personally committed to him. Mister Riquessa was distantly related to many of them. People, therefore, whom he could trust absolutely.

But they had no chance against this opponent, because he attacked behind their defense line.

Ra-Sana folded his leather wings.

Ra-Sana - that was the name of this demon of the twilight.

A powerful spell of the demon disciples made it possible that he was on earth for a short time. His appearance had caused tremendous tremors in the dimensional structure.

But that was indifferent to those who had summoned him.

Ra-Sana looked around.

Sucked in the air. It almost made the impression as if he wanted to take in scent. In truth, he was activating his psychic mental antennae. He knew that the man he was supposed to kill was around here somewhere. A renegade demon disciple. And now Ra-Sana was lusting after this man's soul. For Riquessa's soul, whose image the demon disciples had implanted in his consciousness through magical rituals, so that it was constantly before the demon's eyes.

Ra-Sana picked up Riquessa's mental trail, took the first steps of the open staircase that led up to the upper floor. The stairs groaned. It was not designed for such a great weight.

At the top of the landing, a bodyguard appeared, lured by the noise.

He shouted something in French.

His face lost all composure, became a mask of sheer horror.

He yanked a .45 Magnum from the shoulder holster under his jacket and pulled the trigger in short order.

The shot hit the monster in the middle of the chest. The second shot burned into the demon's skin close to it. The demon roared.

A liquid oozed from the wounds, dripping onto the stairs.

Blood.

Or that which instead flowed in the veins of this monster.

A third shot hit Ra-Sana in the eye.

The demon now sped up the stairs with a agility that was hardly credited to this colossus. He took five or six steps with a single stride. Then he had reached the bodyguard, grabbed him with his enormous paws. A scream rang out. The demon hurled the bodyguard like a doll through the entrance hall. The body slapped against the wall, then fell to the floor and came down heavily. Motionless, he lay there.

The demon paused for a brief moment.

The wounds caused by the bullets slowly closed. He had a very great regenerative ability. With the primitive weapons of the earthlings one could hardly harm him. As for magic, the inhabitants of this planet had largely forgotten the little knowledge they had once acquired about it.

The demon continued on its way.

He knew exactly where to find his victim.

The mental trace told him. He followed it. With a powerful kick of his massive foot he opened the door of a bedroom.

The fat man who was lying in the big bed was now sitting bolt upright in it.

Jean Riquessa.

His feisty face looked distorted.

The beautiful Eurasian at his side now also jumped up, screaming loudly. She rushed out of bed, pressed herself into the far corner of the room.

The demon paid no further attention to her.

His destination was Jean Riquessa.

Before the fat godfather of Chinatown and former follower of the Demon Disciples could show even the slightest reaction, the Demon was already on top of him, grabbing the colossus, who in his hands seemed to be nothing more than a limp doll.

The demon opened its mouth.

Jean Riquessa screamed.

He was still screaming when his head disappeared into the demon's maw. Ra-Sana bit down, tore the Chinese man's skull from his shoulders. The blood splashed up to the ceiling.

Brain matter dripped from the wallpaper.

A smacking sound was produced.

The demon felt the soul of the big boss escaping....

And he absorbed her mental energy, emitting a grunting sound.

The grotesque parody of the purring of a cat.

Yes, that felt good...

*

It was night when Corcoran set out to kill Rico DiGiorgio.

The area where the DiGiorgio country estate was located was widely cordoned off. There were several barriers. The first was a two-meter-high chain-link fence firmly anchored in the ground. Corcoran turned into a shadow. He tore the fence apart, climbed through the hole and ran across the open, coverless plain that adjoined it.

Dogs barked.

The guards looked around in confusion.

Spotlights circled.

Good thing these people don't fully trust their dogs!, Corcoran thought. Because the noses of the quadrupeds could not be fooled. Not even by merging with the darkness.

The alarm was sounded. Pretty soon the DiGiorgio people had discovered the hole in the fence.

They now realized that someone was in the compound.

What they did not know was that they could not see this opponent.

Corcoran reached the next barrier. The security guards, who were patrolling everywhere, looked right through him.

A shadow in the night, that's what Corcoran had now become.

The second barrier consisted of a wall.

Corcoran did not take the gate. It was cast iron and locked.

Corcoran took a running start, pulled himself up the wall, climbed over it with ease. He jumped down on the other side, sprinted through the greenery surrounding the bungalow that formed the center of this country estate.

As Corcoran got closer, he saw Rico DiGiorgio on the terrace, accompanied by several bodyguards.

There was also a squat figure. The garden lighting allowed Corcoran to see the gray skin covered with warts.

And the inside of the eye was black!

Completely black.

A man possessed!, he thought.

A human being who is under direct demon rule!

Even the off-world allies won't be able to save you, DiGiorgio," Corcoran said. You are lost, DiGiorgio! Lifeless...

DiGiorgio had a key position with the Demon Disciples. Whose goal was to give the demons of the twilight dominion over the earth.

Therefore, the Order of the White Light had sent its best man here to eliminate DiGiorgio.

To kill, to be exact.

*

Nothing to see! muttered DiGiorgio. The lights had been turned on everywhere now. It was as bright as daytime. The sound of the sea could be heard in the background.

One of the gorillas was listening on his walkie-talkie.

Boss, there's no one anywhere to be found! Probably the guy who tried to do this stormed off again when he realized the alarm had gone off!

Possible! muttered DiGiorgio.

He didn't seem to trust the roast.

Riquessa, his mortal enemy, had been sent over the Jordan. But still lurking somewhere out there was an assassin named Corcoran, whom his enemies of the Order of the White Light had set upon him. There were spies among the demon disciples. Like Riquessa. But he had gotten his receipt. Conversely, there were also spies of the demon disciples among the brothers of the Order of White Light. And therefore DiGiorgio knew quite well.

DiGiorgio just couldn't imagine this hitman named Corcoran giving up his plan to kill DiGiorgio.

It's Corcoran, DiGiorgio said half to himself. I have a feeling it is... Even if it sounds like a fixed idea. But I think he's around here.

Our people would have spotted him! the gorilla with the walkie-talkie was convinced.

A gnome-like man named Green now spoke up. He had remained silent until now.

It depends on what power resources Corcoran has at his disposal! he opined. His deep-set eyes flickered uneasily. The wings of his nose quivered.

He muttered some incantations to himself.

Syllables that made no sense to a human listener. A flicker appeared in the air. It could only be seen if one looked very closely. Like a bell, an umbrella settled over the entire terrace....

...and a shadowy figure suddenly became visible in this magical light.

Corcoran.

One of the bodyguards let his MPI rattle away. But either the bullets didn't hit or they went through the shadow creature.

Corcoran delivered a blow to the bodyguard that threw him far back, sending him crashing into the wall of the house, where he remained with a broken neck.

Corcoran also swept the second bodyguard out of the way. The third shot around like mad and then ran into the house. He had never experienced anything like it.

DiGiorgio looked frozen. His eyes were wide open. A mask of terror.

Corcoran! he whispered.

The Mafiosi backed away from it.

Green shrilled more incantations to himself.

Corcoran, meanwhile, noticed that he was now visible to his enemies due to the influence of the magic the gnome had used.

However, most of the bodyguards were in the area between the wall and the wire mesh fence. They were still intensively searching there for the intruder, who had long since reached the goal of his dark desires.

The gnome raised his hands.

His incantations sounded like shrill shrieks.

He was obviously in a state of high panic.

Corcoran lunged at DiGiorgio.

His dark shadow arms encircled the Mafiosi's neck.

DiGiorgio rasped.

Now your game is up, DiGiorgio! whispered Corcoran. The gangster boss's neck bones cracked.

The eyes froze.

A last twitch of the nerves.

That's it.

Corcoran lowered DiGiorgio's limp body.

Motionless, he remained on the floor. Corcoran looked down at him.

A muffled roar made Corcoran whirl around. Green, the gnome, had retreated several dozen feet. He now stood outside the terrace, waiting to see what happened.

Something just materialized out of nowhere.

It was a huge, massive figure.

A monster, armed with leather wings, giant paws and feet.

Ra-Sana! the gnome shouted. Ra-Sana!

A DEMON!, it flashed through Corcoran's mind. You will not have it easy.

The demon approached, let out a rumbling roar, bared its teeth.

Then he let his paw swing like a big club in Corcoran's direction.

Corcoran sidestepped the issue.

A tremendous force was behind the demon's blow.

He immediately tried again. Like a berserker he rowed his paws through the air, trying to hit Corcoran.

Corcoran trusted reflexes and his magical power. He clasped his fist around the hilt of the consecrated dagger he wore on his belt.

However, at the moment he had little choice but to dodge. Even a bearer of this dagger could not easily cope with the impetuous power of this monster.

Some of the guards had meanwhile approached the scene. Two of the man-sharp dogs had been let loose, but even they flinched, whimpering.

The dog handlers took flight.

They were indeed in DiGiorgio's service.

But of course they knew nothing about his supernatural support.

One or two had occasionally seen a gnome like Green and perhaps wondered what ugly guests their boss hosted. But none of these men had ever met a demon in the flesh.

The boss is dead! shouted one of the guys who had apparently seen the body.

Hell, what's that shadow!

Just get out of here!

The demon straightened to full height. Its gaze fixed on Corcoran. The monster's eyes began to glow. They turned fire-red and then suddenly a ray shot out of each of them. Both beams joined about two meters in front of Ra-Sana's hulking, animal-like face and bundled into a thicker, more energetic beam.

This one hit Corcoran, fully capturing him.

He was thrown back, felt the strange, almost paralyzing force.

A hoarse laugh was heard from the demon's mouth.

Corcoran slammed through the glass of the patio door, staggered into the house and fell to the ground.

Nearby lay DiGiorgio's dislocated body.

What should I do?" it went through his head.

The demon, meanwhile, continued. He entered the terrace.

With sweeping movements of his mighty paws, he cleared all the seating furniture from the terrace, flinging it through the air.

The leather wings fluttered excitedly. Corcoran struggled to his feet. The demon pushed against the wall with a roar, breaking out an entire piece of wall that fell toward Corcoran.

There was dust.

Corcoran could barely breathe.

The roar of the monster was deafening.

With massive movements, it enlarged the entrance. Parts of the wall collapsed.

Again, rays shot out of his eyes. This time of a different color. They were steel blue. And where they hit, it began to burn. Flames were already flaring up.

Corcoran staggered further inside the building.

The demon followed him.

The ceiling height was just about the size of this creature. Ra-Sana couldn't raise his head too far, though, or he would bump into the top.

Corcoran heard the patter of flames already licking their way up the curtains.

Corcoran now hurled the consecrated dagger at his opponent.

The demon caught the weapon safely with his lue.

A gurgling sound escaped from his throat

It sounded like laughter.

He flung the consecrated dagger away from him so that it was out of Corcoran's reach. Mentally, too. Corcoran muttered incantations to himself, but they had no effect. The dagger remained in place.

Corcoran looked around, saw the fireplace poker near him, grabbed it, and then went on the attack.

Like a berserker, he charged at the demon, lashing out so that the monster roared as the poker met the monster's advancing paws.

Corcoran was in a blood frenzy of sorts.

He muttered words to himself in long-forgotten languages. Formulas that he had learned specifically for this fight.

Transform...

Into a being of pure darkness....

To fight the darkness you must become a part of it yourself!

His outline blurred.

He became a shadow.

How much life energy will this cost you, Corcoran?

No matter.

The destruction of this demon is worth it.

Now that he had turned into a shadow creature, he had become nothing but pure darkness. Only a blurred outline of him was still visible. Nothing more.

The blue beams hissed through the house, passing close to Corcoran, who kept dodging them.

Then Corcoran charged forward, plunging the poker into his opponent's body. Up to the hilt, he drove the metal into the demon's body.

This one roared out.

His strange blood just spurted out.

Corcoran staggered back, trying to pull the poker back out of his opponent's wound, but failing. Regeneration was proceeding too quickly. New tissue had already grown around the metal.

The demon was breathing heavily.

No one could harm him that easily.

A blue beam caught Corcoran, who was unable to dodge it quickly enough.

The beam burned straight into the darkness Corcoran had become, filling it, making it glow bluish. A wave of the most cruel pain flooded through Corcoran. He was paralyzed for a few moments. It was impossible for him to do anything. He staggered to the ground, coming up heavily. Everything seemed to spin before his eyes. He had the feeling of falling into a deep maw. A feeling that caused an icy breath inside him. You are by no means invulnerable!, it went through his head.

He tried to pull himself together. But suddenly his strength seemed to be dampened in a strange way. He was hardly able to move.

The demon had reached him by now.

His grimacing animal face glared down at him.

The expression of the demon's face was marked by something that could almost be called satisfaction.

Or the demonic equivalent of that.

The demon uttered a few inarticulate sounds, then grabbed Corcoran with its paws. A grip like in a vice.

He tried to summon all his strength to free himself from the demon's grasp.

It was not possible.

Corcoran's shadow arms tried again and again. The pressure of the paws grew. The demon's eyes changed color. They became glaring white. HE WILL BURN YOU NOW!" a voice inside Corcoran announced. It was almost a mental whimper.

Then Corcoran concentrated everything he could muster. He concentrated it on letting the fusion with the darkness progress further. Give up your humanity completely. Only for a few moments...Lose yourself in the darkness....

Corcoran's physical form - already only a shadowy something - dissolved completely. Arms grew out of the darkness, arms that looked more like tentacles. They formed points, bored into the body of the demon. In several places at the same time this happened. The white glow in its eyes disappeared. Ra-Sana roared loudly, letting go of the dark something Corcoran had now become.

Don't slack off!" thought Corcoran.

The tentacles born of Finstenis now bored into the demon's body in a dozen places, and it began to rattle. The gleam of its eyes faded. The leather wings flapped back and forth uncontrollably like the last nerve twitches of a slaughtered chicken. The skin became parchment-like. The body shrank into itself, as if a strange process of mummification was taking place with it. It lost half of its volume, became a kind of mummy and froze. The eyes now appeared dead. The once massive body of the demon disintegrated into fine gray dust. The dark something that had been Corcoran sank to the ground. Slowly, a shape formed again. The flames were by now blazing high everywhere. It was clear that they would engulf the house.

Corcoran scrambled to his feet.

One last glance at the dust blown away by the draft, into the flames that greedily devoured this last material remnant of Ra-Sana. Like myriads of fireflies, the burning dust particles floated through the air.

Corcoran staggered through the burning house, raising his hand in between, whereupon the consecrated dagger flew toward him. The handle nestled in his palm. The weapon listened to him again. A good sign, which spoke for that the demon was really defeated and nothing of his magic energy remained in this world. Corcoran stepped out into the open.

The darkness withdrew from his body. Within moments, the shadow creature became a human being again.

He looked around.

None of the bodyguards, whose job it had been to protect DiGiorgio, was to be seen anymore.

Corcoran took a deep breath, staggered a bit further, gasping for breath. The heat was becoming murderous.

Corcoran stopped, looked back, saw flames now licking out of the windows. Windows shattered with a loud bang.

Nothing will stay, Corcoran thought. And that was a good thing. Corcoran felt a profound sense of satisfaction.

He looked in the direction of the sea.

Only a few chains of dunes separated the property from the beach.

On one of these dunes now rose strangely shimmering figures. Figures as if from another world. Corcoran looked at them with wide-open eyes. In the pale moonlight their skin shimmered bluish.

Beings from one of the demon worlds!, Corcoran was struck by it.

Their graceful figures were taller than those of the earth people.

Calmly, they looked down at Corcoran.

Then they dematerialized.

Creatures of the night

Alfred Bekker

————

An aura of unimaginable age seemed to lie over the barren, stony land that stretched from horizon to horizon.

In the hostel where I had spent the last night, I had been strongly warned not to ride here.

But it had not been more than a few dark hints, which had been to be elicited from the host and so I had decided to give nothing more on it and to simply continue my way.

I can certainly be said to be many things, but not that I am a fearful man who allows himself to be put in fear by the mere chatter of a landlord.

I involuntarily reined in my horse when I saw this wasteland before me.

My breath caught in my throat.

Everything living seemed to have fled this stretch of land for some reason, only bare stone and bare rock remained.

But my way led me to the north and even though I felt a cold shiver at the sight I saw at that moment, I had no inclination to take a detour.

So I spurred my horse forward, but even the animal beneath me seemed to have an instinctive sense that it might be better to ride around this stretch of land.

After some time, I approached abandoned villages where no one seemed to have lived for years.

Perhaps it had been a terrible plague that had depopulated this stretch of land, or perhaps a particularly devastating drought.

I did not know.

It wasn't long before I saw the silhouette of a castle looming in the distance on a hill, standing out gloomily against the gray sky.

I must have lost my bearings a bit, at least I didn't have the slightest idea whose manor this castle might be.

But the closer I came to her, the more abandoned she seemed to me. Just as if all life had fled from her as well....

It was already late.

Soon night would fall and I had no desire to sleep out in the open.

I was also able to ask for directions.

So stopped towards the castle.

In front of the gate was an apparently dried-up ditch. The drawbridge was raised.

Heh, is someone there? I called out, as loud as my voice would allow me.

But no one answered me.

I tried a few more times, but then came to the conclusion that either this castle was also no longer inhabited, or its inhabitants had no interest in letting visitors in.

I steered my horse around and was about to ride away, when suddenly the drawbridge went down with a horrible roar.

It creaked terribly and it almost seemed like it was falling down more than being lowered.

I shrugged my shoulders.

Curiosity had gripped me.

Cautiously, I steered the horse over the bridge, which already looked quite rotten. But my mistrust was unfounded. It held and I reached the open castle gate unharmed.

I let my gaze wander a little. There was no one in the courtyard and it almost seemed to me that this castle was also completely uninhabited and the drawbridge had fallen down by itself. Perhaps because the chains had rusted through...

But a moment later I saw that I had been mistaken.

A gaunt little man appeared. He had a gray-white goatee and only a handful of hair left on his head.

Greetings! I called. I take it you are the lord of this castle!

The gaunt man shook his head and let out a grumbling laugh, exposing two rows of bad teeth.

His head reminded me of a skull at that moment....

No, he said. I am only the servant!

So this castle was not uninhabited after all, although everything here made such a dilapidated and abandoned impression. After riding through the deserted wasteland that surrounded this manor, I was really relieved to hear the voice of a human being again.

My name is Kirran O'Conn! said I. And I am on my way north. Perhaps I could find quarters for the night at this castle...

The old man looked at me with a strange look. He seemed to be examining me from top to bottom.

Then he said, That will be for my master to decide, he then said. Wait here!

Thereupon the old man disappeared into one of the castle buildings and it was quite a while before he returned to tell me that his master wished to receive me.

*

I tied up my horse somewhere and then let the old servant lead me into the gloomy castle walls.

Everything seemed dusty and very old, as if no people had been here for generations.

We went up steep spiral staircases and finally reached a large banquet hall where there was a long table.

At the end of this table sat a single man.

He was at most half the servant's age. A black beard framed his pale face, which seemed somehow sick.

When I was led in by the servant, he looked up and looked at me thoughtfully with pale blue eyes.

I introduced myself and also told him that I would like to stay in the castle for the night.

The weather seems to be changing, I said. It's not bad to have a roof over our heads!

That man, who was obviously the lord of the castle, rose and nodded.

Then he approached and extended his hand to me.

Welcome to Kavanaugh Castle! he said. And I am Lord Rory O'Kavanaugh, the master of this castle! He took a deep breath while still holding my hand. His felt cold, almost like a dead one, and so I flinched involuntarily at the first moment.

He seemed to notice my discomfort and smiled sheepishly.

Then licking his tongue over his thin, bloodless lips, he said, This is a cold land, Kirran O'Conn, much colder than the rest of Conaught! And it seems the cold is rubbing off a bit on its inhabitants! But that is no reason for you to be frightened!

I am not frightened! I returned incorrectly. It was a weak lie.

Then you would be the first to enter Kavanaugh Castle and not be frightened! he returned to me, and suddenly there was a flash in his eyes.

And I didn't like the way Rory O'Kavanaugh was eyeing me.

I had no explanation for it at that moment, I just felt a dull discomfort, so instinctively I held on to the hilt of the short sword I was carrying at my side.

I'm sure you haven't eaten yet! noted Lord Rory, and I nodded.

That's right. I passed through an almost uninhabited country, where I could not even have hunted a rabbit...

Lord Rory turned to the old servant.

Patrick! You could look in our supplies and prepare a time for our guest!

Yes, milord.

And with that, the old servant disappeared through the door.

Rory came up to me and I asked him, It seems to me you would rule over one wasteland, Sire!

He made a serious face.

As he took another step forward, the light coming in through the window fell on his face and I saw his unhealthy, pale skin.

It seemed to have something parchment-like about it and reminded me involuntarily of the skin of a dead body that has been waiting for burial for some time...

He seemed to somehow guess my thoughts and twisted his thin, bloodless lips into an embarrassed SMILE.

Weren't you warned to ride here? Weren't you told what was wrong with this country, Kirran O'Conn?

I have been warned, sire!

What have you been dared to do?

Just silly talk, as one often hears from people who never got beyond the borders of their village. There was talk of a curse...

And what else?

Only undefined things, nothing tangible!

Is a curse then nothing tangible, dear Kirran O'Conn?

I looked at him and didn't know what to say at first.

Yes, there had to be something tangible behind the horror stories I had heard....

At least life could not have disappeared from this land without reason....

I see that this is a land of death, sire!

And yet you remain here, at Kavanaugh Castle...

My path led me here. I want to go north, to the coast of Ulster. And I didn't feel like riding a long detour because of a few stories...

What is a detour and what is not often proves itself much later, Kirran.

You may be right about that, though.

Rory O'Kavanaugh turned to the window and looked out into the castle courtyard.

Then he suddenly said, There does seem to be a curse on this land. He almost whispered. But rest assured, Kirran: here, at Kavanaugh Castle, you are safe!

A door opened at that moment and the figure of a young woman entered. Her features were finely cut, her hair artfully pinned up, her movements were graceful and springy.

But she was as pale as Lord Rory O'Kavanaugh and his frail servant.

I eyed her and then noticed Rory whirling around from the window. And I also saw what was written on his face at the first moment when he caught sight of the young, pale woman.

Scare!

Only then did his face begin to relax. He approached from the window, stood next to the young woman and introduced me to her.

This is Kirran O'Conn, a young traveler heading north to Ulster!

She stepped towards me and offered me her delicate hand, which seemed inhumanly cold....

"I am glad to meet you, Kirran! You must know that we hardly ever get visitors.

The pleasure is all mine!

I am Lady Faye - the daughter of Lord Kavanaugh! And as happy as I am to see you, I must warn you!

Faye! Lord Rory now interfered. But his daughter ignored him and kept her eyes on me.

Her eyes were the only thing about her that was able to radiate a little warmth.

The only warm thing, in this whole, cold castle and the barren land, by which this manor was surrounded.

But I also saw concern in her face.

I raised my eyebrows.

Warn? I asked. About what?

From the curse that lies on this land, Kirran! From the creatures of the night...

Faye! This man is our guest! He will stay here for the night! Lord Kavanaugh interfered again.

Ride while you can, Kirran O'Conn!

I thought that a hostel...

Abandon the inn and flee! I swear to you, Kirran, O'Conn! For the sake of your soul!

I'm afraid I don't really understand, I admitted.

What are those creatures of the night you spoke of, Lady Faye!

Lady Faye mudded.

It seemed to me that a terrible agony was gnawing at her. A battle seemed to be raging inside her, threatening to tear her apart.

Her chest rose and fell slowly as she took a deep breath and then shook her head....

I cannot explain it to you, sire! You would hardly be ready to believe it. But I beseech you!

And I beseech you! said Lord Rory in a very stern undertone. Do not frighten our guest with your horror stories! I command you to be silent!

That was unmistakable.

Lady Faye lowered her head and nodded slightly.

Yes, father, she whispered.

I turned to Lord Kavanaugh and asked:

Perhaps you can explain to me what these creatures of the night are all about!

His gaze had become icy and fixed.

I can't say any more than my daughter already has...

Are those creatures the cause of there being no life left in this area?

Lord Rory exchanged a glance with his daughter and then the latter said, Father, there's no point in trying to hide it anymore!

So it is as I suspected! I concluded.

Lord Rory O'Kavanaugh nodded.

Yes, he murmured, barely audible. But you are safe here at Kavanaugh Castle!

I just hoped that he was right.

*

A little later Patrick, the frail servant, came and brought the food. However, he only covered for one person and so I asked both O'Kavanaughs if they didn't want to have something to eat as well.

But they both denied it - without explaining it to me.

What I was then served seemed as ancient as this castle. There were onions that tasted of mold and wine from a completely dusty bottle that had already turned sour.

My politeness only lasted a few bites, then I pushed the plate away from me and pretended to be full.

I know you are certainly used to better, Lord Kavanaugh commented. But you can be sure that Patrick has gathered the best for you from our meager supplies!

*

Outside it had become dark night and Patrick, the servant of the O'Kavanaughs led me to a generously furnished guest room.

It looked to me like the room of a prince, even though everything was covered with a thick layer of dust. For years, probably decades, no one seemed to have entered this room.

Patrick lit a light for me and I asked the old man who else lived in this castle besides him and the O'Kavanaughs.

His answer could no longer surprise me in the depths of my soul, for I had unconsciously anticipated it.

No one, he said. No one lives here except Lord Rory, his daughter, and me.

Why do the O'Kavanaughs spend their lives in such a hermitage?

It is not a conscious hermitage, sire!

Then what is it? Explain it to me, Patrick!

This is Kavanaugh Castle, the ancestral home of this family. Not for anything in the world would Lord Rory leave it!

"Have there never been more people in this castle?

Servants, squires, knights... grooms and cooks!"

That was a long time ago... said Patrick wearily. "So long that even I