His journey was going to be moving along much faster now that he was circumventing much of the middle of the castle. He started to feel better as he climbed a mossy and crumbled set of stairs. He came to a turn and had a breathtaking view of the ocean, and also within turning distance of seeing the whole countryside. Simon paused… This looked so familiar... Where had he seen this before? The deja vu was gripping him so strongly, he had to kneel and catch his breath. His thoughts returned to when he was a child, which was unusual because he didn’t remember anything that far back…

Simon suddenly remembered that when he was six, he had been stricken by nightmares. Ones so horribly vicious and evil, he dreaded getting a kiss on his forehead from his mother. She would tuck him in and walk away, not knowing that he would be chased down long and dark halls by things unmentionable. Typically, he had about four that were just re-occurring. He could vividly remember waking up in a cold sweat after being leapt on by some foul beast. For months this went on, and he didn’t mention it to his parents. He had to be strong. This was a battle he had to fight on his own.

While most of the castle was just a maze of halls and stones in his memory, he knew that at one time or another, he had been down every hall, explored every room and stood on this very spot. That much was the only truly clear part of his nightmares. He remembered being up here, looking down, and longing to cross that ocean, to be away from here. He wished he could leave this castle, and be home. Yet, no matter how fast he ran, what he tried or how much he prayed, nothing could save him from this great beast of a monstrous castle.

Now he could recall even seeing the Lord of the manor. Simon started to breathe deeply like the child in his memory. This one time, the dream took a different turn. He ended up going down a passage he hadn’t known had been there. As part of his routine, he would come running down a corner, only to end up in the embrace of a corpse, hungry for his young flesh. Instead, this passage which he had never seen was now blatantly obvious and he knew that he was breaking a pattern. He grew excited as he rounded a corner, and knowing that things might end up different. He rounded a corner and looked down. Besides the narrow walkways, an uncoordinated young boy might fall to his death if he weren’t careful. And all around, Simon could see gears. Hear them grinding with deliberate timing and rhythm. Smell their grease.

Thinking that these were strange, he carefully made his way up the walkway.

He walked up across a weak and shaky bridge, pausing only to look back. He felt as though someone or something was watching him. There, above the doorway, above his very head where he had entered, floated a being. He wasn’t sure still what it was, it just floated there like a hovering statue. It had a hood on and a tattered body cloak. The being gave him mixed feelings. He wasn’t sure how to react, really. He just kept on going, despite the non-threatening vibe he got from the thing. Simon passed through and archway that led to another set of shaky stairs…

And yet, these stairs were out in the open! They lead to a parapet that branched off the main structure. It was the highest part of the castle. He wasn’t sure what to do… He didn’t like the heights. He was getting dizzy from the great distance he might fall… He turned to go back and collided with a great grey cloak… He looked up slowly to see a shadowed hood. Nothing but darkness. He didn’t feel afraid as he looked into the nothing. A hand raised and pointed to the bridge. A bony hand. The undead blocked his way, so he had no choice but to go…

Simon placed a shaky foot on the first crumbling step… And got down on all fours to get a better hold. He found that they were generally well made, but horribly old stone steps with no guardrails. As he walked, he glanced back quickly. The floating monster that blocked him receded into the shadows, but he could still feel it’s gaze. He continued walking, gaining confidence. In doing so, he stood and started walking upright. He put a foot down and it passed right through the stone. Simon lost his footing and started to fall… He snatched an edge as hard as his hands could hold. Yet, he almost felt that climbing back up was fairly easy, almost like someone was helping him get back on track.

After dusting himself off, Simon proceeded to keep walking, this time weary of the steps. Before he knew it, he was at the end. He walked in the doorway to find it dark. He walked inside. He felt he was being watched yet again. He continued to stare into the darkness. Suddenly a candle burst into flame and he found himself staring right into the eyes of a man. The Lord of the manor. Simon could feel the weight of that gaze. The man gestured he come closer. The boy proceeded with caution. The man seemed to be talking, but Simon couldn’t hear what he was saying. As he approached, he could see the just how tall the man was, even from a child’s perspective. He on a fine black suit and a cape. His hair was slicked back, and his ears were particularly pointy.

Simon approached the man, who was sitting at a large table. The man gestured he sit across from him. He did so. Now that he was within a foot, he could clearly see the man’s face. Simon was now sweating freely. His cheekbones were particularly narrow, and his skin had an unnaturally white hue. His nose was very sharp and pronounced, some would say ‘european.’ When he looked into the man’s eyes, he could see centuries of cunning and intelligence. They had a holding quality to them, and Simon thought that the man would think him rude, yet he couldn’t look away. There was something in his eyes that he couldn’t turn away from, no matter how he tried. Within them, a red spark was glowing like an ember.

The man stood and walked over to Simon, looking down on him from an impossible height. He suddenly smiled, revealing two long fangs. He put his hand on Simon’s shoulder and tilted his neck up slightly…..

Simon came to and realized that he had passed out. He stood, holding his head. Now everything seemed to make more sense. Yes, he was born to do this very deed. He just couldn’t believe he had stood face to face with the man. Now there was no complaining he would die not knowing the face of his enemy.

He tried to shake off the dream-like feeling that was slowly passing. Kind of like being asleep for eight hours, when in fact it had been several minutes.

Something caught Simon’s attention. It was a small spot on the moon. Something black. It kept growing. Many somethings that were grouped together in a huge flock… As they grew closer, Simon could see that they were ravens. Many hundreds of ravens. Coming directly at him. He stood and started to jog down the length of the parapet wall. He started to gain speed as he saw the flock coming closer. Slowly, the mass of black forms squawked their way closer to him. At this point, he was running full tilt, leaping over gaping ledges to gain more ground without turning. He could hear them and smell them…. He was hit by a wave of noisy and sleek forms. They pounded on his back and made him lose his balance. Simon began to fall off the ledge…

He tumbled headlong on top of a gargoyle that hung under the ledge. His backpack snagged itself on a long horn of what looked like a statue of some kind of demon. Simon watched helplessly as loose rocks fell from a dizzying height to land on the courtyard so far below. He could feel the backpack slipping… he grabbed on to the other horn and pulled himself up onto the beast’s head. And after a tenuous struggle, he was up on the ledge where he started, flock of ravens no where to be seen. Simon regained his confidence in his ability to walk and proceeded onward.

Still not quite as calm as he would have liked, Simon leapt over the gap distance he had almost fallen down. As he kept walking, he heard a scraping noise. ‘Nothing rests in this castle,’ he thought to himself. Then, a bony hand scratched a hold on the edge of the parapet. A skull with a knife in it’s mouth was scaling the wall. Simon ran to it and booted it’s head clean off it’s shoulders. He noticed a skeleton was already on the wall not ten feet behind him, and another was climbing just ahead of that one…

He had no choice but to start running. And as he looked ahead, the parapet had more wide holes in it, so many that he would be doing much jumping.

A skeleton leapt at him from just outside of his vision. It raked it’s bony hand across the side of Simon’s face, matting his hair with blood. He gritted and ignored the pain. Another was leaping across the distance he was about to leap. Simon jumped and planted his foot squarely on the ribs of this attacker. It fell downwards, into the abyss. He landed hard on the ground, having not enough time to re-arrange his feet for a landing. In that time, another undead had leapt the gap and was on him, tying to stab him with the only weapon it could find, a long rib.

Simon put his hand up and held the rib back as best he could. But the skeleton’s unholy strength

made the point keep advancing, The jaw parted and hissed wickedly in Simon’s face. He could feel the death even in the thing’s respiration. The point of the bone dug into his chest. But instead of feel pain, Simon noticed the four other skeletons who were racing to be on top of him. They wielded their sword and knives and were also piled on top of him. All he could see were long white bones and black sockets.

Simon landed harder than he had thought, because his back felt wet. A flask of holy water finally leaked to the evil surface of the parapet. Blue flame exploded from under Simon and he could feel it’s coolness giving him back his resolve. The skeletons screamed with unimaginable pain. When the blaze subsided

and he could see, the skeletons were gone and the ground was again left perfectly clean. He didn’t have time to relax, though. More were coming.

He opened his backpack to find the leaky vial while running. He placed it in his hand and tried to make sure none leaked out. The gyration of his running kept making small droplets fly ever which way. Blue flame danced all in Simon’s path. He didn’t particularly care at this point. He just set his head down and pumped his legs for all they were worth. He looked up ahead. There was a statue. A statue of two circular objects. Skulls. Dragon skulls. Simon looked behind him at the virtual army of the undead that had gathered not twenty feet behind him. They were dodging the blue flames and catching up with Simon well. He didn’t have time to stop. He started running even harder and leapt….

Even before the statue had time to light up it’s eyes, Simon was over it’s six foot head and already pounding the ground behind it. The flame continued to grow and a swath of fire burst from it’s jaw. The skeletons who had done such a great job of catching up were caught off guard by the fire and more so by the statue. The fire didn’t harm them, but being blinded by smoke and colliding with the stone statue did. Most flew off the castle to smash on gargoyles and lower landings. A few still managed to run past the statue as it slowly started to turn itself around.

Looking back, Simon celebrated ever so slightly with a grin. He felt great that something finally was going his way. He continued to run, passing odd statues. They were all busts, and covered with moss. The parapet came to an end. Simon slowed, and stopped in front of a doorway back into the castle. He looked back. The few skeletons he could see were climbing back down the walls. He could see them go back into lower windows and into breaks in walls, from back whence they came. Again, he grinned. His grin faded as he turned his head, and spotted a parapet that had lights on. It was the highest point in the whole castle. He knew that’s where he’d find the Lord of the manor…

Simon walked through the archway and stopped, waiting for his eyes to adjust to the darkness. He could see a small room. It looked like it was used for storage. There were some old crates, candleholders,

silverware, two coffins…. Candles sparked to life on the walls. There was a door at the end of the room, but leaning against the wall on each side of the door was a long, brown coffin. Calculating his odds, he guessed whatever was in those would be on him before his hand touched the doorknob. He stood and drew his huge axe he had claimed earlier. Squaring off his stance, he waited for whatever it was to come get him. He waited. Nothing happened. "COME ON!!!" Simon screamed at the top of his lungs. As if confirming his request, both coffins began to move as if possessed. They bounced up and down, smashing on the stone floor. In unison, they both stopped moving. He tensed, waiting for what was coming. Both lids exploded off the coffins, sending dust and splintered wood sailing past him.

He waited for the dust to clear and wished he had tried to run. For out of the dust came two seven foot mummies. Wrapped from head to toe, they were an off yellow color from their age long sleep. They both advanced on him with odd walk. Simon had to walk sideways to back himself out of a corner. He didn’t like the thought of both of them, and him in a closed space. They continued to follow his movements, arms outstretched.

For beings who have been dead for centuries, they were quite large. They seemed thick, and well muscled for ancient corpses. And they walked with an overwhelming gait that was as intimidating as their height. Simon had a chance to swing, yet felt himself backing up… Again, an arm inched toward his head and he backed away again. They kept tracking his movements, and he lost ground. He felt if he started to attack one, the other would finish him off. And as if sensing his fear, one mummy decided to try to come at Simon from behind. He was swinging his head back and forth to keep an eye on the both of them. The one in front of him advanced and while he was glancing backward, smashed him in the head with a fist that felt like cement.

He reeled from the blow, head turning fully. He raised his head back up, spitting a mouthful of blood on the mummy’s nice white face. It responded by raising both it’s outstretched hand to Simon’s face and it’s wrappings coiled around Simon’s head. He couldn’t see and he was suffocating. Panic gripped him as solid as the wrappings. It worked its way around his neck, painfully tight. He could hear the mummy behind him grab his wet back... Blue flame burst from the mummy’s hand. It opened it’s maw but no scream emerged. It slowly caught on fire and was consumed by the blue flame. The ancient mummy was almost like firewood. There wasn’t even ash left.

Knowing that the bandages would most likely hit his back soon, Simon waited. The coiling stopped at his shoulders. Instead, the mummy began to squeeze him. Blood was trying to escape from every capillary, every orifice. The pressure in his head only fueled his seething anger. He lost control.

He hefted his axe, swinging it with both hands in a dangerous arc. The wrappings where cut and he fell backwards, stumbling. He used one free hand to rip the now paper like wrappings off his face. The mummy was bearing down on him at this time, and used it’s wrappings to rip the axe from Simon’s hand and hurl it straight upward, embedding itself in the ceiling.

He could now see and breathe, yet his rage was like a fountain. The mummy smashed him in the head with another solid left. He took the blow and came back with another of his own. The mummy didn’t feel it quite as much as Simon did. It grabbed him by his neck and lifted him off the floor. Simon coughed out blood and grabbed a hold of it’s dusty wrists, unable to break the hold. Simon kicked the mummy as hard as he could. Instead of panicking, this time Simon booted it again. And though he was losing oxygen to his brain, the kicks came more often and harder instead of less. His face was beat red and the fury increased the pressure several times. His solid kicks to the mummy’s torso made it loose it’s grip.

The seconds seemed like hours, but the mummy eventually let Simon fall to the ground. He fell to his hands and knees, gasping for air. It felt like he had the worst headache. The mummy fell back a step or two, to get it’s bearings. It saw Simon on the floor, looking as if he were helpless to stop any assault. It spread out its hand, for the well-timed chop that would crush his skull… Simon glanced up and waited for the mummy to raise its hand over its head… He leapt nine feet straight up and latched on to the handle of the axe, and fell with a diagonal slash that hit the monster from it’s right shoulder to its left armpit. The top of the torso fell to the ground, leaving the rest standing there.

After gasping a few ragged breaths, Simon watched the lower torso and legs just standing there. Curiosity got the better of him. He got closer to see what the inside of the mummy looked like... There was nothing inside. Just a hollow shell. He reached out and touched the edge of the chest. The entire lower body crumbled, leaving a dusty heap. Simon remembered how taxing that battle was. He fell to the floor where he remained for several minutes among the dust, breathing heavily. Finally he sat up. Simon opened his backpack and fumbled for his rations. He tore into the roast beef, famished beyond belief. He tried to eat it all at once. He then finished his whole rationing of water in one thirsty sitting.

Dropping his flask with a sharp clang, Simon collapsed on his rump and leaned back against the wall. His wounds were already healing fast. Now, the abrasions on his body were just a memory. He remembered that his back was wet. Peeling the soaking backpack from his shoulders, he let it fall on the floor. A small blue flame sparked where the damp touched the cursed stones. It soon was evaporated.

With only a short break, Simon picked himself up from where he had collapsed haphazardly.

He remembered to take his axe. When he went to reach for it, he noticed that not only was one blade broken, but the wooden handle had snapped. In his unbridled rage, he had snapped the weapon in two.

He let the handle go and it hit the floor noisily. Now, his next task was to find a way deeper into the castle.

Upon inspection, he noticed there was a poorly redone section of the back wall. It caved in with a slight kick. Inside, there was a small room that had a large hole in the center. The whole floor looked unsteady, but Simon proceeded anyway. On the other side was a doorway so dark he couldn’t see down it, and he had to see what was inside it.

He hugged the wall with all the dexterity of a cat. His footing looked solid enough. He paused when he saw a pair of glowing red eyes blink at him from the exceptionally dark doorway on the other side. Another pair opened, then another and soon there were dozens of eyes focused on Simon’s actions, intently.

He heard a high-pitched screech, one that was as jarring as metal scraping metal. His balance got foggy. Suddenly, a hundred bats flew out of the doorway. They plastered themselves all over Simon. He struggled against the cold, furry covering as best he could. With his balance thrown out of wack, he tumbled to and fro. His movements ended him up on the edge of the crumbling center. The stones gave way easily, and Simon fell down the open shaft, tumbling end over end….