Esmerelda Gets Spooked in Gothic Castle

In the crook of one of those enormously pretentious French castles full of gothic details which included diabolical angry gargoyles and concrete snakes, Esmerelda felt indescribably threatened. Unnatural, unexpected feelings of uneasiness paralyzed her into a weird stupor of unrest in an inexplicably hard way, seemingly without cause. A feeling of inexplicable terror, which she could not shake threatened her previous sense of well-being. Undetermined shadows which had been moving gently upon her entry, stopped abruptly. Were ghosts sensing her confusion? Did they revel in her terror?
Were they feeding off her dastardly discomfort? She felt that a powerful sorcerer’s witching power had paralyzed her in place.

The thought Townshender murders entered into her head unbidden and unhidden. In The early seventies Mrs. Townshender and her three children had slaughtered with a hatchet like weapon in a manor in the country. Esmerelda instantly knew without knowing how she knew that this was the castle where the diabolical killings of these four innocents had occurred. It was the curse of being clairvoyant. Many thought the tale of the gruesome murders was a legend, but she had always known better. She had gone through the archives and found the clippings. Mr. Townshender had been their only viable suspect, but he had a plausible alibi, and being clairvoyant, Esmerelda knew the instant she touched his photo in the archives, he had nothing to do with their killings.

Clairaudient was another sense Esmerelda had been blessed with as she was the seventh daughter of the seventh daughter of the seventh daughter of a long line of prophetesses. She kept this secret close to her vest, but smelled the unholy stench

of three day old corpses and blood as she walked upstairs toward the ghosts that were beckoning her to help them tell their story. The bedroom was a bloodbath; pieces of the children were everywhere. An arm, a foot, a neck with half a head. Esmerelda had seen

grizzly things before but nothing so horrendously horrific.

She wondered what kind of a person could have done something this terrible. There was a banging sound. A voice yelled her name “Esmerelda?” It’s HIM!” the little girl who still had a head screamed, and then the light went out of her eyes and her mouth was silent. Reincarnation being what it is, Esmerelda knew at that instant she had to get out of this castle. She tried the windows but they had been nailed shut. She could hear the man’s heavy footsteps on the stairs. She crept across the hallway into another room and slid into the closet. She could hear him looking for her, slamming doors as he kept up a running commentary. Her heart was beating so fast she could barely breathe.

A tiny whisper came to her right. She turned and saw the little girl who had warned her.It is him, she hissed. The closet door opened and the lights went out.

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