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Dear reader, this is my entry into the Literotica Halloween Contest 2024 and I hope you will enjoy my .
If you do, then please read my others or follow me to receive notifications of new stories as I publish them.
Please note that whilst my tale is set in modernday Europe, it is pure fantasy. Some names are real, others are not. I may have just stolen the name from somewhere else. Neither are all the locations in the same region or country.
My usual readers be warned this is in Erotic Horror for a reason…
If this genre turns you off, then please move on and find something more suitable.
Please note, it is Halloween and the gloves of reality are off.
~~~***~~~
Throughout her life, Alina’s family prepared her to cope with being different. At nearly six feet tall, her height made her stand out. She enjoyed underlining it with platform shoes. Today’s examples were kneehigh chrome buckled, black leather boots, giving her an additional three inches.
Whilst growing up, according to any adult who knew her, she developed a weird personality which she used to protect her hidden differences and her vulnerability. She felt more comfortable with her gothic persona, which, coupled with her jetblack hair, thin stature and height advantage, boosted her confidence beyond quivering selfdoubt.
Alina sat alone on the coach as she preferred her own company to others. About forty people had joined her on the The Halloween Castle Coach tour. Her outwardly stoic persona had successfully kept any friendly advances at bay as they wound their way through the UK and Northern France to their first night in Reims.
They’d had a little time to visit the city’s beautiful gothic cathedral after breakfast and were once more on the move. She surveyed the other passengers from her preferred seat, running the width of the coach at the rear, giving her four spare seats alongside her to stretch out in.
She’d chosen this holiday for several reasons. Her main one was her love of erotic horror stories and based her fashion on many depicted within the books. From her black lace dress, with matching bodice and jacket, to her virginal white nightdress that was straight out of any Peter Cushing vampire film.
Her ancient relatives were Slavs, coming from a mix of Eastern European South Slavic countries, mainly Serbia, but settled for a century in this area, which she’d visited multiple times before her branch of the family headed northwards to the British Isles.
The castles and surrounding forests added to that attraction. The timing of the tour also worked in her favour, with Halloween being her favourite time of the year, whilst adding to her romanticised idea of erotic horror and her love of the region.
The majority of her travelling companions were couples, married or otherwise. There were a few groups, one of elderly ladies and several goth cliques who, thankfully, had no intention of including her.
The coach cruised along the motorway heading to their first castle of the tour and she picked up her book to immerse herself back into her preferred reality. She glanced up when they lurched as they pulled off and down the tight spiral of the slip road.
She felt at home as they threaded through the tall pine forest, with the long boughs reaching out to greet others, across the narrow tarmac strip. The coach lurched and swung as it wound its way higher, with occasional glimpses of a towered castle which awaited their arrival.
On their last turn into the car park, beneath the grey rectangular towers of the castle’s entrance, Alina gasped in relief. She wanted to race up the drawbridge and lose herself within its walls before the rest of the party spoiled it.
She waited for the coach to empty before following the stream of jabbering mass as the tour guide, George, spoke with a bespectacled whitehaired attendant leaning on a gnarled walking stick.
The four elderly ladies glanced her way, but sensed her desire to maintain her solitary position. Her grandmother taught her the basics of reading facial expressions, which she’d developed to where she could almost mind read.
She realised they’d play the long game and wait until her guard was down before befriending her. When that time came, she’d happily let them through her defence wall as being over double her age. They were harmless, meant well, and would probably be fun to engage with.
Unfortunately, the same couldn’t be said for the rest of the sheep in front of her. She knew a few would happily welcome her to join them and their partners in their beds, but they didn’t interest her. A few eyed her with suspicion, and her presence didn’t bother the remainder.
George gathered the group and introduced the castle’s guide, Ingrid, who made her initial welcome speech, welcoming them to Castle Berwartstein or Burg Berwartstein in German. Alina edged around the crowd at the back, eager not to miss a syllable of the guide’s wellrehearsed speeches.
Ingrid explained, mainly in English, her traditional dress and caught Alina’s eye. She didn’t need to be a mind reader to know what that faint blush and glance avoiding hers signified. Had they met in the hotel bar that evening, she would happily carry her to her bedroom.
She’d always been a sucker for a redhead, but the traditional multicoloured dress, with a tightly bound bodice highlighting a pair of voluptuous breasts, held her in a trance. Her tongue licked her lips midsentence, which almost had Alina swooning.
Ingrid invited them to follow, and she walked them under the portcullis and into the castle. Whilst most people shivered in the chill of the yearround shade of the courtyard, Alina relaxed and beamed at her, who seemed to reflect her interest.
As she guided them from room to room, climbing in and out of towers and covered walkways, Alina sensed layers of dusty spirits that lingered within the walls, but despite many pained and tortured souls, none threatened any malicious intent.
They walked past impressive and gruesome armour, historic chests, bed chambers, banquet hall and kitchens, Ingrid’s dulcet tones entranced Alina as she told of ghastly politics between the local fiefdoms, family power struggles and ghostly goingson, entertaining the group.
High on the battlements, Alina swooned at the scenery, enjoying the rolling hills covered in dense forest. Ingrid allowed everyone time to photograph and enjoy the vista, whilst meandering to stand alongside Alina.
“You are more relaxed with our castle than the majority of our visitors?”
Alina’s heart melted and bathed in the beauty of her dark blue eyes, impressed by her smile, framed by cherry red lipstick.
“I love it… The forests, the hi, everything.”
She gazed out through the castellations, sighing as she tried to drink in the atmosphere.
“You’re not like the others?”
Alina looked at her questioningly, as she glanced towards the other goths taking selfies and group photos. Ingrid ran her hand over the black lace netting pinned to her hat.
“They have hats, but yours is part of you. It has detail.”
She brushed the crow’s feather and pulled at the black ribbon bow. Then ran the back of her hand down the black rope detailing of her jacket sleeve.
“They wear dresses, but you’re… Chic.”
Alina’s heart melted at the compliment and wanted to whisk this siren to the master bedchamber below the turret, pull her skirt up and have her wicked way with her. She snorted and smiled as if she read her mind and consented.
As she opened her mouth to speak, several of the group demanded her attention and she left Alina frustrated. She rested her black lacegloved hands on the parapet and once more surveyed the forests.
Movement in the trees caught her eye. Something rustled the dense foliage below. At first, she thought it was a deer, but this wasn’t at ground level. She leaned out and glimpsed another fleeting rustle of movement.
Whatever she couldn’t see was leaping from branch to branch through the higher reaches of the tree canopy, moving at speed. Whatever it was, it avoided breaks in the leaf coverage, whilst shaking the branches, twigs and leaves, giving witness to its course.
She moved around the turret, avoiding the others, focusing on the forest, hoping for another sighting. She caught it again, unlike a squirrel, much larger, more like an enormous cat. Wolves inhabit this part of Europe, but they don’t run high up, through trees.
She skipped further round, leaning out and down. Unsatisfied, she moved around until the castle’s courtyard towers and walls obscured the view. She retraced her route, ignoring the others, searching, hoping to catch another glimpse.
A hand landed on her elbow. It was Ingrid who smiled.
“We are going now.”
Alina glanced behind her at the diminishing group, filing back down the stairs. Ingrid squeezed her tighter.
“There are things in the forest below which aren’t what they seem.”
Unsure if she had seen what Alina had, she opened her mouth to ask, but she held her hand out, guiding her towards the open exit.
“We’re going down to the dungeons. You’ll enjoy this part of the tour.”
They filed down various flights of stairs and back out into the courtyard via the covered walkways of the battlements. Ingrid ran through another wellrehearsed description of its ghastly hi before leading them down more flights of stairs.
After a warning of slippery steps, she took them through a heavy oak door and into a damp, dark stairwell, which was only lit by huge wallmounted candles and little penny candles on each worn stone step.
“Earlier in the tour, I explained that the existing castle is built on an older one, which was demolished before the medieval period. You can see the original foundations here.”
She held a torch up to show a clear differentiation between the grey stones above and the darker, mossladen stones below. As Alina stepped down past the older foundation level, something caused her to shiver, and it wasn’t the temperature.
She sensed a dangerous malevolence, unlike anywhere else she’d ever travelled to. Her senses exploded in defence as they reached out into the surrounding darkness. Candles flickered and shadows danced as people commented that they’d also felt a change.
Ingrid corralled them on the hard stone floor of the main dungeon, as she recounted detailed stories of historic wrongdoings that the walls had witnessed. Despite the multiples of large wallmounted candles illuminating the area, the dark shadows continued to reach in, as if clawing at the group of warm bodies.
Alina moved to protect the four ladies, standing over them. She reached between her cleavage to pull out the silver cross chain held there. Unheard by all but the malevolent spirit, she whispered an incantation taught by her late grandmother.
She didn’t know what words or language she spoke, only how to recite each syllable. She sensed a bubble of protection it afforded them as spirits mocked and taunted her efforts but couldn’t transgress.
As Ingrid paused for effect at the gasps of the listening visitors, she glanced at Alina, tilting her head questioningly. Alina saw relief cross her eyes and a nod of thanks before she continued her .
As her entertaining tale finished, Ingrid invited the group to leave whilst holding back to wait for Alina, who waited until the end, still repeating her whispering Incantation.
“I don’t know why, but I hate this part of the tour. I can come down here a hundred times without any problems, but the next time, it scares me. Today is like that, but worse than ever. Somehow, with you here, I feel safe.”
She pecked a kiss on Alina’s cheek and almost pushed her up the stairs, following closely behind. It was only as she felt the warmth of the castle above did Alina repositioned her cross in her cleavage and ended her repetitive chant.
The courtyard was positively warm after the chill in the cavelike dungeon. Ingrid announced the end of the tour and after a round of applause, she invited everyone to visit the gift shop and cafe.
Alina didn’t need food. She fancied something very alcoholic, but had to settle for a coffee. Afterwards, whilst everyone else was busy, they didn’t notice her slip outside. After being within the stone walls, she wanted to venture into the forest to connect with Mother Earth and possibly investigate what she’d seen from high on the parapet.
She stepped out into the warm sunlight and gazed back into the courtyard to see Ingrid dodge into the cafe searching for her. She headed along the shortest route into the trees.
She welcomed the cool of the forest as she entered it after the sun and its scent enveloped her. It was a relief to have the soft path under her boots after the flagstones of the castle. She strode out as it circled the castle walls to her right.
She enjoyed the weak autumn sunlight flickering through gaps in the leaf canopy above, which gave her glimpses of the towering ramparts above. She caught sight of the tower she’d stood at when she first thought she’d seen movement in the trees above her.
She focussed her attention on the branches at midheight. Not seeing anything, she moved off the path and changed her perspective. She wasn’t sure what she was looking for, but after a few trees, she spotted claw marks. Soon after, she saw her second, then third.
She’d been right. Now she knew what to look for, she could predict its route. The further she walked around the castle, the more marks she saw, and most were not fresh. Whatever it is, it has visited many times. She wandered aimlessly for a while. She soon heard what she needed and followed the sound.
The spring and its subsequent babbling brook were perfect, but as she reached it, she knew something was dangerously wrong. There was no evidence of any sprites, past or present, nor any of the usual gifts nature bestows on the course of a freeflowing spring.
The surrounding forest darkened as a tingling sensation caused the hairs on the back of her neck to crawl. Her thoughts were being probed. She raised her outer thought defences. Any being reading her mind would see a simple picture of her imagining fairytale landscapes.
Her deeper inner mind probed back, as subtle as her grandmother had taught her. She soon found the culprit. Not far away, but too close for comfort and neither alive nor dead. She innocently rose and returned towards the path.
The probe pushed harder, and she focussed on returning to the castle. The being, clearly with malicious intent, now moved to head her off. She followed it with her mind as it leapt from branch to branch through the trees like a monkey, but its shape was more of a blurred feline wearing a filthy death shroud.
Alina reached the path but knew the malevolent being had positioned itself between her and the edge of the forest, waiting to spring its trap. She walked on, seeing a slight clearing where two paths merged. The dense foliage between her and the castle was too great to afford a quick escape. She had to continue onwards.
At the junction, she stopped as the trees tried to close in on her. A stick on the ground offered her the perfect tool. One hand clasped her silver cross from her bosom and the other collected the stick and drew a large circle around her in the dirt as fast as she could.
The mind trying to read her thoughts suddenly attempted to burst through to discover her intent, but too late, she’d started the incantation, and the magical barrier surrounding her blocked the intrusion. She scratched a further symbol inside the circle in the dirt.
Alina relaxed, with her defences protecting her, and she could survey her prison. There could be worse places to be cornered. About a hundred yards away, where a tree’s trunk split in two, she saw a pair of angry, piercing red eyes waiting.
There was no face, just featureless darkness, framed by the aged tree. It was happy to wait, thinking it would be dark soon and her prey would tire. Alina knew she couldn’t throw any curses as her defence would weaken them and the being could counter it.
Her inner mind meandered around the being, searching for a battleground of her choosing. Then she saw a chance to antagonise her oppressor. Behind the apparition, as slowly as she could, she pulled a large bough back to the point of almost breaking.
The creaking of the trees in the wind hid her ploy and her staring at the target kept its focus on her. When released, the springloaded weapon thwacked the being with a force that would render a human unconscious.
The being leapt into the air, howling in pain and screeching, causing birds around the valley to take flight in a cacophony of chatter. Alina grinned in triumph. The being flung unseen spears, spells and profanities at her, which produced a firework display of sparks on the invisible barrier about her.
A voice hissed in rasping German inside her head, which she surprisingly understood, despite her lacking an indepth knowledge of the language.
“You’ve been taught well…”
It sneered a taunt at her height, “Little one.”
Without warning, it fled from her sight. The forest about her stretched upward once more towards the remaining sunlight and mottled daylight returned to sprinkle the floor. She searched openly about her with her mind, unable to find the being.
Ahead, walking down the path towards her, was the bespectacled whitehaired attendant with his gnarled walking stick. He carried a puzzled look as his energetic walk defied his age. Alina kicked her design in the dirt into oblivion and tucked her cross back into its crevice between her ample bosom.
“Ah, Ingrid was concerned about you, but it seems she needn’t have worried, as you don’t seem to be an average visitor.”
Something about his wry look and aura told her he had an idea of what had transpired, even if he hadn’t witnessed it.
“Strzyga.” She volunteered, unsure where she got the name from, but now hoped she’d pronounced it right, ‘Stshyigah’. Although from his reaction he recognised the term.
His eyes showed surprise as she walked to meet him and they walked together, heading back to the clearing with the coach in the distance.
“You certainly know more than we first thought, calling a vampire by that name… It’s a lot further north than normal. We’ve not seen its kind in a long time. Ingrid said you’d noticed it from the turret?”
Alina stopped to glare at the man.
“The claw marks on the trees say otherwise… It’s a regular visitor here. How many visitors have not come back from their hikes over the summer?”
“Ingrid was right. You are extraordinary and knowledgeable. Some would say even chosen?”
He evaded the question, but left his question hanging, expecting an answer.
“Uhhuh. Chosen, as the seventh from the seventh of seven, and cursed at the same time.” She answered.
His eyebrows raised, tilting his head, not quite understanding her problem, as Alina pressed further.
“You didn’t answer my question, and what about Ingrid?”
“Everyone accounted for… Unfortunately, Ingrid understands, but missed being chosen.”
He shrugged, glancing away.
“She was born the sixth daughter from the seventh, but alas, no younger sister.”
The pain of a great personal loss passed across his eyes and, after an unspoken mutual agreement, they both continued to walk.
“Your Strzyga needs sorting, as it is growing stronger. There are no sprites, and I expect the other forest dwellers have left with the deer, leaving it squirrels and wild boar. It could soon choose a more suitable quarry for its insatiable hunger. With me, it chose badly, but next time, it will get lucky.”
“Then stay, help us?”
ero
