The story so far :
“The door was meant to be bolted, but someone had left it unlocked.
Not only unlocked but open! The girl shivered as she looked around the empty castle kitchen. Where was everyone? She crept cautiously towards the open door that led out into the stable courtyard. Had the cook gone out for some supplies? Unlikely. The evening meal had long since finished. Had someone crept into the castle who shouldn’t be there ? More than likely, but what should she do? She was hardly in the position to go to the Lord of the castle, she was just a serving girl.
There was a noise behind her. Her heart-rate increased as she ran to the door, pulled it closed… ” (Kristen Stone)
‘Thanks, lass,’ said a gruff male voice. ‘I was bloody nithered wi’ that draught.’
She breathed a huge sigh of relief and with hand on heart, fought to control her trembling.
Peter, the aged footman, limped painfully into the pool of moonlight streaming through the arched gothic window. He fumbled with his tinderbox and the warm blush of lantern light spread into the dusty corners of the castle kitchen. His gnarled fingers lifted the swaying lamp up to her face.
‘Why lass, tha’ looks like tha’s seen a ghost. Tha’s not been bothered by the old Grey Woman, has tha’?’
‘The – the what?’... (Karen Charlton)
Peter opened his mouth to reply, and froze. The girl froze. Everything stopped.
Marcus swore impotently at the unmoving image, then turned to the girl on the couch.
“Always at the same place! The memories always stop just at the most crucial point!”
She opened her eyes, reached up to adjust the device strapped to her head. “Use more power!”
He shook his head. “Too dangerous. It could …”
“I know what it could do!” she snapped. “And we both know the consequences of failure. We must learn what happened to me.
We must find out about the Grey Woman!” ... (Paul Trembling)
“What do you mean, what happened to you?” Marcus asked. “And what has that to do with the Grey Woman?”
“I’m not sure,” replied the girl. “But I know that I’ve been here before.”
“That you have, Mistress Rose,” said Peter.
Marcus turned and shivered involuntary. “I knew we should never have come here.”
“Ye had no choice young sir,” replied Peter as he started to walk away. Then he stopped by the door. “It was destined. See for yourself.”
He held the lamp aloft.
There on the wall was a painting of a lady, a lady dressed in grey, but the face was that of Rose herself... (John Holt)
Rose was horrified to see this. What on earth did it mean to see her face on an old picture?
A thousand scenarios and explanations ran through her mind but none of them seemed remotely plausible. She felt acrid bile rise into her mouth and throat, which she valiantly attempted to choke back down.
She thought about the famous line from Sherlock Holmes about eliminating the impossible, but the trouble was it all seemed impossible so she was unlikely to find the remaining improbable and with it the truth.
The shock was proving to be too much and with a cry Rose remembered nothing more as...
...darkness overwhelmed her and she sank to the floor in a dead faint... (Juliet B Madison)
When she regained her composure, Isabella looked up, it was gone. She couldn’t believe it, who would do such a thing? It was a dastardly thing to do. On hands and knees she checked everywhere, under the sofa, behind the television, it wasn’t anywhere to be seen.
The more she thought about, the more obvious it became, there was only one person she knew evil enough to do such a thing.
She stood, hands on hips and shouted at the top of her voice. ‘You bleedin’ little elf, bring back my fairy...
...the Christmas tree looks naked without it... (Alfie Robins)
“The door was meant to be bolted, but someone had left it unlocked.
Not only unlocked but open! The girl shivered as she looked around the empty castle kitchen. Where was everyone? She crept cautiously towards the open door that led out into the stable courtyard. Had the cook gone out for some supplies? Unlikely. The evening meal had long since finished. Had someone crept into the castle who shouldn’t be there ? More than likely, but what should she do? She was hardly in the position to go to the Lord of the castle, she was just a serving girl.
There was a noise behind her. Her heart-rate increased as she ran to the door, pulled it closed… ” (Kristen Stone)
‘Thanks, lass,’ said a gruff male voice. ‘I was bloody nithered wi’ that draught.’
She breathed a huge sigh of relief and with hand on heart, fought to control her trembling.
Peter, the aged footman, limped painfully into the pool of moonlight streaming through the arched gothic window. He fumbled with his tinderbox and the warm blush of lantern light spread into the dusty corners of the castle kitchen. His gnarled fingers lifted the swaying lamp up to her face.
‘Why lass, tha’ looks like tha’s seen a ghost. Tha’s not been bothered by the old Grey Woman, has tha’?’
‘The – the what?’... (Karen Charlton)
Peter opened his mouth to reply, and froze. The girl froze. Everything stopped.
Marcus swore impotently at the unmoving image, then turned to the girl on the couch.
“Always at the same place! The memories always stop just at the most crucial point!”
She opened her eyes, reached up to adjust the device strapped to her head. “Use more power!”
He shook his head. “Too dangerous. It could …”
“I know what it could do!” she snapped. “And we both know the consequences of failure. We must learn what happened to me.
We must find out about the Grey Woman!” ... (Paul Trembling)
“What do you mean, what happened to you?” Marcus asked. “And what has that to do with the Grey Woman?”
“I’m not sure,” replied the girl. “But I know that I’ve been here before.”
“That you have, Mistress Rose,” said Peter.
Marcus turned and shivered involuntary. “I knew we should never have come here.”
“Ye had no choice young sir,” replied Peter as he started to walk away. Then he stopped by the door. “It was destined. See for yourself.”
He held the lamp aloft.
There on the wall was a painting of a lady, a lady dressed in grey, but the face was that of Rose herself... (John Holt)
Rose was horrified to see this. What on earth did it mean to see her face on an old picture?
A thousand scenarios and explanations ran through her mind but none of them seemed remotely plausible. She felt acrid bile rise into her mouth and throat, which she valiantly attempted to choke back down.
She thought about the famous line from Sherlock Holmes about eliminating the impossible, but the trouble was it all seemed impossible so she was unlikely to find the remaining improbable and with it the truth.
The shock was proving to be too much and with a cry Rose remembered nothing more as...
...darkness overwhelmed her and she sank to the floor in a dead faint... (Juliet B Madison)
When she regained her composure, Isabella looked up, it was gone. She couldn’t believe it, who would do such a thing? It was a dastardly thing to do. On hands and knees she checked everywhere, under the sofa, behind the television, it wasn’t anywhere to be seen.
The more she thought about, the more obvious it became, there was only one person she knew evil enough to do such a thing.
She stood, hands on hips and shouted at the top of her voice. ‘You bleedin’ little elf, bring back my fairy...
...the Christmas tree looks naked without it... (Alfie Robins)
