My throat was raw by the time I stopped. I also found myself stooped over in the corner, staring at my own vomit. William turned pale as snow when he saw the corpse, stumbling backwards with his mouth agape. It still is, like the hinges of the jaw broke and he couldn’t close it. We all stood staring, Mary was now crying in the corner but she didn’t take her eyes away from the morbid scarecrow. I was fascinated by the heart. Whatever that black substance was, it wasn’t natural, and it seemed to keep the heart still beating.
Meaning that it wasn’t a corpse we were looking at.
As if in answer, the unseeing yellow eyes darted to and fro, glancing at invisible threats at all sides. What seemed like a year passed with us transfixed in the sight’s spell, unable to glance away, when we heard a knocking on the door downstairs – the back door in fact. It was slow and continuous with no rhythm what so ever, like the insistent ticking of a clock. It helped snap us out of our spell and we all managed to glance at each other, silently agreeing on one thing.
Time to go.
We sprinted downstairs and I threw myself at the front door. It didn’t move. The locks were gone and the door didn’t even shudder on impact, nor did the handle turn, as if the door had become a part of the wall. The hole was fixed up too, and all hell broke loose. The fire place lit up, but cast neither light nor warmth, the grandfather clock chimed to life, books flew from the shelves of a nearby bookcase, pots and pans clanged together in a cacophony of clamour and I saw a silhouetted figure of a man by the back door. His slender finger tapping on the glass. Mary was screaming for it to stop and I found it hard to breath, and just when the chaos became unbearable…
“OVER HERE!” William shouted, trying to open a door under the staircase. I kicked it and it shuddered, meaning it could be opened. I kicked it again, the furniture flew.
I kicked again, the tapping became a knocking.
I kicked again and the door opened.
William rushed in, then me but then Mary screamed. I saw her on the ground, being dragged away. Her nails were bleeding from clawing at the wooden floor, being dragged towards a solid mass of shadows. I hesitated but William barged past and snatched at Mary’s hand.
He was too slow though.
The poor girl was yanked back as a mass of shadows peeled back like a flower opening, a morbid Venus fly trap…
…Before it snapped shut, consuming it’s victim, Mary.
The shadows melted into the floor but I could still hear Mary’s muffled screams. They weren’t screams of distress though, they were screams of agony, and I knew, from my experience upstairs, that she would be tortured but kept alive. To eternally suffer pain.
With some effort I dragged William through the door and slammed it shut. We were heading down into the basement now, I guess, but had reached the bottom of the stairs to hear the door explode behind us, showering us in wood shards, and in the doorway I saw the silhouetted man stride towards us.
We ran down a long dark corridor, the silhouette in no apparent rush behind us, and found another small room. I found a hatch leading outside and tried to pull William out, but only got shoved back.
“You could have saved her” He mumbled “You didn’t though, you let her die. It’s your fault! YOUR FAULT THAT SHE’S DEAD!” He was right, but it wasn’t the time to argue or fallout. We needed to escape, get help, anything so long as it’s far away from the Château. But William wouldn’t listen, yelling accusations and curses, backing away all the while– I was starting to think he was losing it, getting overwhelmed by the panic. I didn’t see, but when I turned back to William, I saw the silhouette standing behind him. I tried to shout out but I was too slow again, for the silhouette had wrapped it’s arms around William in a bear hug – hardly struggling to maintain control – and suddenly, it’s body lost all mass and form and became solid shadows that started to cocoon my old friend. Soon William was trapped in a dark blanket that made some sort of cast around his body, he started to convulse and spasm as if there was more harm than just suffocation, it was probably killing him inside out. Once again, like the coward I was, I ran.

I ran and ran, it was all I could do. No sooner had I started did I turn to glimpse the figure of a four legged creature bound after me. It looked like a bear, except it had no fur, just a sleek black skin of shadows and no facial features whatsoever. I ran faster, dodging the trees and leaping exposed roots, when I looked back the woods behind me were empty, though I cringed at every passing tree, expecting an assault at any time. I didn’t dare go for the front gate, because I couldn’t risk the time to force the gate open, and it just didn’t feel right to go there, it being so close to the Château, my friends’ grave. It was all my fault. I knew that I could have saved Mary, or at least tried to help, but I just stood there, frozen in fear and unable to save a friend who has looked out for me since ages ago. Then if I had saved Mary, William wouldn’t have blamed me, and there wouldn’t be any mistrust, we could all have gotten out of there. But because of me, all four of us are doomed.
All four of us?
I suddenly halted, hesitating now, remembering the fourth member of our party.
Tom.
I had completely forgotten him ever since I saw the scarecrow corpse upstairs. Perhaps he was still alive! He may have escaped the Shadow, just like me, and be wondering around the woods, glancing back every now and then to see a sudden shape fly by. Or the Shadow could have ignored him, and he was returning to the house right now. And into a trap.
A part of me wanted to turn around and backtrack towards the house, to see if Tom was still there, and warn him of his impending demise, or to at least search the back garden and look for some trace of him. But I didn’t move. Even if this was true, then it would be a trap for both of us. The likely hood that a shadow had been so smart as to lure one in as bait to lure the other in and kill us both is somewhat stupid. But you wouldn’t have thought that shadows come to life and kill people would you. Whether Tom was dead or alive, the Shadow must expect me to return to the Château, which I didn’t. I turned and ran, tears welling up over the other friend I may have left for dead. My only hope is that he was already dead, because if he was still alive, then I didn’t return to warn him and he died because I left him unawares. A little selfish but I couldn’t wish for him to just reappear unharmed, I knew it was an impossible wish and it still upsets me, that I lost my closest friend but was unsure of whether it was my fault or not.
My only hope of escape was the low wall that circled the park. If I could vault that, then I’d be in the park and from there, I’d reach the street and manage to get away from this nightmare.
I ran and ran, always expecting a shadowed creature to jump out and mutilate me, none did though and still I ran. Eventually I saw amber light up ahead.
The lamp posts at the park!
I picked up the speed. At this point I was exhausted, my muscles screaming at me, lungs working so hard they were practically on fire and my heart beginning a catchy drum beat in my chest. I reached the wall, and all hope died away.
I didn’t forget the railings surrounding the entire property, but I had hoped the low wall was enough to complete the property borders. But it lay behind the barbed, iron spires like a cruel and sick joke, that freedom was there, but out of my grasp. Evidently, the owner took no chances, and I loathed him for it. The gate was my only way out but it was far away now.
Better than nothing I suppose.
I turned to find the silhouette standing there, watching with no facial features. It didn’t try to cocoon me, instead it bloated and bulged, it’s body moulding into a more malformed shape, a mass of tentacles, claws, hands and a single, foreboding maw. One of the shadowed hands gripped my ankle and pulled me closer to the shape. I tried to find a purchase or something to break the hold but failed miserably. Then I tried to reach for one of the railings and cursed my slow thinking not to do so earlier. I missed my chance and now something else grabbed me, and I felt claws dig into my flesh. More hands and claws, and the occasional tentacle, found purchase on my body and I once looked back to see the maw growing wider and wider. Eventually, two tentacles had snaked around my arms to prevent me clawing at the ground, rendering them useless and then I knew that I had lost, though I didn’t stop struggling. One final yank saw me in a standing position, teetering horribly over the maw and practically hovering over it. I had never been so terrified in my life knowing that it’s over, and that I will die in a matter of seconds, but I never stopped struggling, it was in vain but I’d be dammed if I would roll over and die. Hands grappled my torso and face now and before it was over, I whispered an “I’m sorry” to those I didn’t save. Next thing I knew I was falling into darkness.

They say God is all-loving, a completely merciful being, but I have trouble believing he would allow something like that exist. True he turns a blind eye towards everyday suffering, but what I saw was not suffering, it wasn’t even torture, it was so malicious, there wasn’t even a word for it. The event was broadcasted on the news.
“The Clearvard loss” They called it. No one knew what happened to the kids that night, some would’ve thought kidnapping or murder but Mark had told them our nightly plans. I’m glad that he survived. People investigated the Château and as far as I know, the Shadow hadn’t claimed another. But I write this as a warning. I don’t have much time but I told you my story so you know what awaits you should you enter that accursed place. Even if your friend or family decides to go, don’t follow, save your own skin and don’t be the good guy. Once you enter and the Shadow sees you… it’s too late. No one escapes.
And if you’re wondering how I escaped to warn you, let me tell you the secret.



I didn’t.