The Scariest Place On Earth?
Chapter Fourteen: Blood That Runs As Rain
Ensnared by the intoxicating stillness, Raphael traced the winding path through the hollow twisted centre of the castle. Isolation stung all around him, infiltrating his very being to its inner most core, where it hung cold and leaden in the pit of his stomach.† The presence he first felt in the Pink Room had never left him; sometimes it shied, strayed from him, but not for very long.† It was close now, almost upon him, treading lightly in his footsteps, watching, waiting, its breath prickling the back of his neck.† Raphael bit back the bitter tasting bile that clawed at the back of his throat, the grim greyness of nothing eked out before him, each shuddering step he travelled pulled the cloak of remoteness taut around him.† A sense of helplessness gripped his chest crushing the air from his chilled lungs; allowing a sob to escape his lips, he was alone.† Desperate thoughts clamoured for attention in the raging torrents of his troubled mind.†
What If, what if something happened?† Wasnít this what happened in horror movies, the group mysteriously splits up? Would anyone hear him scream, would anyone reach him in time, before it was too late, where were the others, were they together somewhere, searching for him or waiting to leap out at the next shadowy hole, were they alone like him, what if they needed his help, had something already happened to them, was he next, unknowingly stumbling to his bloody demise round the next corner?
Thin threads of yellowing silver caressed his face as the moon dipped behind the thick sodden clouds, still the darkness boiled before him, the storm continued to pound outside the castle walls, hammering itís way inside. Slowly skulking through the sooty blackness fear pulsated through Raphaelís weary body; the sensation of being trapped swamped him. He felt as though he had to keep moving to save his heart from bursting.† The cold reached out, wounding, piercing wherever it touched.† He felt himself wither, his body shrink from its burning touch it was almost as if his bones were turning to dust and his blood had begun to run cold as rain.
The moon suddenly burst from out of the clouds, slashing sharp lines of light through the gloom, the walls and floor shone like water.† Gently Raphaelís flashlight flickered and died, calling the opaque shadows from the furthest reaches of the corridor.† Hurrying through the silence Raphael came face to face with a small unassuming door; unlike any other he had seen since entering this labyrinth to nowhere. Cautiously Raphael looked back along the path he had just taken, a reluctance to retrace his steps thudded in his head.† The presence, which had been dogging his journey through these stretches of foreboding passageways, moved in on icy wings, the air began to hiss and crackle slightly.† With an eerie ease it revolved around him, a scratching of filthy entities chucked muddily, he could hear them now as they sung something cold and low, feel their warm stinking breath as they drew in creaking tighter and tighter until it seemed as though the night might fracture splitting along the seams, the dust at his feet kick up into the vortex of tumbling air, a pungent murderous smell filled his nostrils. Quickly terror surged through him, Raphael gasped the freezing iron door handle, a sharp pain caught him flowing through his arms like thousands of little electric shocks, snatching his hands away he noticed each finger was dripping blood. As silently as it had come the manifestation settled into a peaceful, quiet, stillness, before slowly melting into the walls.
Raphael turned and fled, rubber limbed stumbling over shadows, spinning and lurching towards the dark his lungs seared from the lack of air, but still he raced on thundering towards the unknown.