A scream echoed through the halls, then there was silence.

“Oh my gosh,” Charlotte said, her hands over her mouth.

Roger was already on his feet, checking the spaces between himself, his sister, and the exits, ready to move into action.

“That … that wasn’t a joke, was it?” she asked. “It didn’t sound like one.”

“If it is, then I’ll make whoever it was give a real one,” Roger said. “This is not the time to be screwing around.” He huffed. “Where is everyone? We only know where two of the five others are, not counting Jill.”

“What are we going to do?”

He breathed deeply, then exhaled. “We’re going to do the responsible thing, and assume that that was serious,” he said. “We’re going to find whoever it was, help them to the van, and get them to the village doctor. And we are not splitting up again, no matter what. Hey, are you okay?” he added, seeing her sway on her feet.

“I … yeah,” she said, rubbing at her temple. “Just a headache.”

“We’ll get you some paracetamol when we’re done here,” he promised. “Leave everything you don’t need. We’ll come back in the morning.”

“Okay,” she said, and they took flashlights and set off through the castle, in the direction of the scream.

Roger had the map, and was twisting it around, trying to get his bearings. “It looks like it’s not too far in the direction Aaron and Lucy were going,” he said. “Probably it was one of them, and we’ll find them both waiting for help.”

“I wonder what happened?” Charlotte said. “That sounded serious.”

“Whatever it is, we can deal with it,” he said. “They might not even be hurt. I once read a story about police who burst into someone’s home because they heard a woman screaming and they thought he was hitting his girlfriend, but it was actually the man, because he’d seen a spider.”

They walked in silence for a stretch.

“I know this sounds horrible,” she said, “but I kind of like this. Not that one of our friends might be hurt, but this … you and me, together. Like when we were little.”

“When you couldn’t get to sleep?”

“When I didn’t want to,” she corrected him. “Or when Mum forgot to meet us at school, and you took me home. Or you making me do my reading. Or making dinner together.”

“Cooking was nice tonight, too.”

She nodded. “Of course, but there’s something special about adventures with your brother. The two of us, alone against the world. I’ll really miss you when you go off to university.”

“Hey, come on,” he said. “It’s not like I can afford to go to one in another city. I’ll still be around. We’ll have plenty of opportunities to hang out together.”

Charlotte smiled. “I don’t think I say it often enough, but thank you for being there for me. Sue and Michelle have told me that they don’t get on with their brothers.” She frowned. “At least, I think they have. I can’t place when or where they did.”

“Probably just at school,” he said.

“Yeah, probably,” she said uncertainly.

“Don’t worry about it,” he said. “I like this too. Did you see how happy Aaron was to be cooking? People like helping each other.”

“That’s sweet of you,” she said.

“It came from around here, didn’t it?” Roger said abruptly, looking around. “Hello?! Aaron, Lucy? Anyone?”

His voice was absorbed by the thick stone walls and faded to nothing.

“Could we have been turned around?” Charlotte asked, taking the map from him and looking it over.

“Do you hear something?”

They went perfectly still. After a moment, they could just barely make out distant music.

“Is that an organ?” she asked. “That’s a relief. They can’t be in too much trouble if they’re playing music.”

“Maybe they decided to have a screaming contest,” Roger suggested.

She gave him a look.

“You’re not very competitive, compared to some people,” he explained.

“That just sounds like a really strange thing to compete over,” she said.

“True,” he said. “Either way, let’s go so I can give them a piece of my mind.”

“I’m upset too,” she said. “We can both give them pieces of our minds.”

Roger chose not to respond to this. She could lay a decent guilt trip, but only if she didn’t realise, because doing so made her feel too guilty herself. “Yeah. Let’s go.”

As they followed the music, it grew louder, enough that they could pick out the tune and harmonics. It was tense and dramatic, full of tremolos around a thunderous Spanish progression. Roger felt his muscles tightening around his upper back.

He opened a door and shone his torchlight through: it was a room full of old pool tables. In the centre was a box marked with question marks. He moved inside.

“It’s very classical castle,” Charlotte said, “and it’s a strong aesthetic and all, but I wish they had electric lighting. I wouldn’t normally mind it, but there are so many single steps all over the place. I keep tripping.”

“I think it was built on a sinkhole or something,” said Roger, “and they kept having to do renovations when parts of the floor collapsed, so now it’s like something MC Escher would have –”

He tripped and sprawled on the carpet.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” he said, “just a bad case of irony.” He reached for his light. “Are you …”

He heard her sharp intake of breath, looked up at her, and followed her wide eyes to Aaron’s corpse. He froze, then crawled over to take his wrist.

“Is he –?”

“No pulse.” Roger got to his feet and looked around. He fixed on the fireplace; he went over and took a fire iron, swinging it around to get used to its heft.

“R-roger? What are you doing?”

“Nothing much,” he said casually, walking around the room, “just looking around for clues. Whoever did this, maybe they were clumsy, and maybe they’re –”

He kicked open the doors to the next room and shone his light through, revealing a ballroom strewn with abandoned clothing. At one end was a grand pipe organ, whose player’s chair was turned ninety degrees; when his light settled on this, the music cut off mid-note.

This narrative has been purloined without the author's approval. Report any appearances on Amazon.

“– eavesdropping by the door,” he said. “Or maybe they’re just really, really fast. This is bad. We’re in way over our heads. We’re getting out of here, now.”

“But,” Charlotte said, looking down at Aaron, slumped against a table. “What about … what about the others?”

Roger was panicking inside, but he was very good at putting up a brave face in front of his sister. She needed it, so right now, he had to keep it together. The most important thing was a plan that would get her away from death and danger, but that she would think was not abandoning her friends. “There must be a police station or something in the village. I’ll drive you there. With two people, they’ll have to take us seriously and send officers.”

“Will everyone else be okay?” she asked. “They don’t know about … who could have done this? I can’t think any of them would ever …”

“Maybe Jill?”

“I don’t think she would have.”

He frowned. For some reason, neither did he. “It could have been the gatekeeper. Whoever it was, they’ve already got the better of two of us. We need reinforcements before they find us. We’ll get the cops and come back. They can take care of things better than we can.”

Charlotte swallowed and looked back at Aaron. “What about Lucy? She might be around here somewhere and she’s hurt, or maybe she ran off, and whoever did this chased her …”

“Either way, it’ll take us hours to find her,” said Roger. “This castle is huge. It’ll be faster to get more people to help look. Don’t forget, we don’t just have to help her, but Sue, Jason, and Michelle too. And Jill.”

“Y-yeah. Right.”

“Come on. We should hurry. Try to keep quiet. We don’t want the killer to find us.”

He wasn’t really sure whether to go in front, where he wouldn’t be able to watch Charlotte, or behind, where he wouldn’t be able to shield her if they ran into someone, but she was holding the map and took the lead, and it wasn’t worth arguing the point. They hurried through the corridors, up and down stairs and around holes in the floorboards, to the deserted banquet room, where a figure was waiting.

It was small, shrivelled and scrawny, with mottled orange skin and no hair. It wore a loincloth and a cloak-like shroud, with bandages around its chest and limbs, and a blindfold over its eyes. Roger classified it as male, but only because it definitely didn’t have anything that looked female.

Roger and Charlotte stopped short. The figure was just standing in the middle of the room, not acknowledging them.

“Hey,” Roger called out. “Who are you?”

It languidly rolled its head to face them, then began walking forward. It wasn’t exactly uncoordinated, it didn’t stagger or bump into anything, even with the blindfold, but it still seemed to have some trouble moving. It had oddly deliberate steps, like it was using all its brainpower to stay upright.

“Are you okay?” he tried again.

“Is that a mummy?” Charlotte asked in a hushed voice.

“I don’t know what it is,” he replied at the same volume, then, louder, “We just found one of our friends dead, and we’re not in a good headspace.” He raised his fire poker. “And you look alarming, no offence, so don’t come any closer, or I’m probably going to hurt you.”

The figure didn’t acknowledge him.

“Last warning.”

The figure kept coming.

“Roger –”

He brought the poker back, stepped forward, and swung at the figure’s chest. It dented inward like it was made of papier-mâché with a whoosh and a smell of dead leaves, and the figure fell backward against a bench and was still.

“Oh my gosh,” Charlotte said, looking down at it. “Is it dead?” She winced and rubbed her temple.

“You know what,” Roger said, his poker levelled at the figure, “I don’t think it’s a good idea to find out. Let’s keep moving and bring a –”

Arcs of electricity crackled over the figure’s chest. The cavity filled in, and it caught at the bench, getting back to its feet and snapping the bench in half.

“Yep, definitely keep moving,” Roger said, taking a step back and shoulder-checking Charlotte in the direction of the kitchen. “Go!”

Without a look back, they ran out into the kitchen, the first hall, and out the front door and into the courtyard.

It was very cold by now, made worse by the wind. The stars glittered overhead. Neither spared the time to admire them. Roger looked at the drawbridge, which was up.

He pulled out his car keys and handed them to Charlotte, who fumbled in the darkness. “Get the van warmed up,” he said. “I’m going to lower the bridge.”

She awkwardly stuffed the map away and got the keys, then swayed on her feet.

“Are you okay?”

“Sorry, just the headache again,” she said. “I’ll be fine.”

He nodded and went to the bridge. In the wall beside it was a metal gate that led to a control room. Inside was a vending machine full of soft drinks, a calendar with a pin-up girl, and a panel that had been slashed to pieces. There were pieces of levers and machinery scattered on the ground around it.

Oh, you have to be joking. He fiddled with it, tried to get any of the mechanisms to catch, but it was too damaged. He stuffed his fire poker into a slit and tried to prise it wide, hoping to pull a chain or something directly.

“Hey, Roger?” Charlotte was just outside. “We’ve got a problem.”

He freed the poker and walked back outside. “Me too. You go first?”

“The van’s out of fuel. The engine won’t turn over.”

“It had plenty when we got here,” he said.

“I thought so too,” she said, nodding. In the starlight, she looked very pale. “Someone’s emptied it. I could smell spilled petrol on the ground.”

He let out a lungful of air that condensed in front of him. “And someone’s sabotaged the gateway. I can’t get it open.”

“What do we do?”

Roger thought. He probably couldn’t bash through the drawbridge. They could maybe find a way onto the walls, dive off into the moat, and swim out, but people who jump long distances into stagnant freezing water at night tend to drown. Charlotte probably wouldn’t agree to do it, because even if they did make it out, there’d be no way to get police or anyone else in to help all the others.

There came a clatter, and the castle door swung open again. They spun, but it was only Sue, doubled over, out of breath.

Charlotte took a few steps toward her. “Sue, thank goodness you’re okay! Is Jason with you?”

Sue raised a finger, asking for a minute to get her breath. “He’s … no. He’s gone.”

Closer to, they could see that her blue jumper had a long scratch down one side, and was stained dark. Charlotte’s hands went to her mouth.

“This place is haunted,” Sue went on, “a nexus of undead energy. We’ve got to get out.”

“I think we saw the same thing,” Charlotte said. “There was … it looked like a mummy, sort of, except it wasn’t mummified. Why is it here? What is it?”

“A necromantic cascade was triggered earlier,” Sue panted. “There was one spirit, but it had friends, sort of, and they’re waking up everywhere. There’s a catacombs under the castle; they’re probably reanimating all the bodies down there.”

“Why?” Charlotte repeated. “How do you know all this?”

Sue waved this aside. “Long story, it’s technical. But that’s not all. Jill’s dangerous, too. Michelle and Lucy are gone, too, I saw them both outside a workshop that I’m sure she had been using. I don’t know what she was making, but it’s bad. She’s got at least one bolthole with machine guns …”

“Calm down,” Roger said, loudly and clearly. “You’re babbling. What’s going on?”

Sue took a deep breath. “We, Jason and I, found a storage room,” she said. “Jill’s. It was full of supplies and weapons. Assault rifles, looked like. While we were there, we had a, a run-in with a possessor spirit, that got Jason. I got out, but I had to run from more of them, and I lost my bearings. Eventually I wandered down a hall. Michelle and Lucy were there, it looked like they had been stabbed.”

Roger and Charlotte exchanged glances. That was the same as what had happened to Aaron, and not something that the orange figure would have done, but Roger couldn’t help but feel like Sue was hiding something.

“One door was open. I looked inside. It was a sort of hybrid workshop and gardening shed, there were tables and a bunch of tools, but also seed mix and fertiliser and stuff, it was weird. Anyway, on the worktable were scissors, a trowel, a soldering iron, stuff like that, and I could see bits of oil and something crumbly on them, it looked fresh. Anyway, another zombie came and so I kept running, and got here. We’ve got to get out before more of them come, or Jill with a gun.”

“We can’t,” said Roger. “The fuel’s gone, and the drawbridge lock is smashed. We’re stuck in here. Are you sure she’s the killer? There might be another one of those things that figured out how to use a weapon.”

“I’m sure she’s crazy. Jason and I ran into her earlier, she was babbling something about a catastrophe, and she knew about Lottie, even though she’s never seen her before. She had this – it didn’t make sense.”

“She knew about me?” Charlotte asked.

“Not in a good way.”

Roger winced. “Maybe she’s the killer, maybe not. Either way, we need a plan. Do you remember where this armoury of hers is? If we can get weapons, or barricade ourselves inside, we’ll have a chance.”

“You’ve never used a gun, have you?” Charlotte asked.

“No,” he said. “It’s a last resort. I’m putting more faith in the barricade, or hoping we can think of something better when we get there.”

“Wait,” Sue said. “With Jason, we found two rooms, warded against the undead. One’s the armoury. It’s in the catacombs, but I think there might be a secret passage out of the castle.”

“If it’s in the catacombs, it’ll be hard getting to it,” Roger said. “Where’s the other?”

“In the central courtyard. The way there is probably still pretty clear.”

“Are you sure it’ll work? How much do you know about how the undead work, anyway?”

“I’m just a hobbyist,” she said, “but it was marked with, with the gold standard for abjuration. If anything will work, that will. And even if not, I think the door had a bar, so we can barricade ourselves in.”

They all exchanged looks.

“It’s our best chance,” Roger said. “Keep quiet and be ready to run if any of them try to corner us. Let’s roll.”