The Sisters of Castle Stone

#15: The Rules of Death

Her body lay at an unnatural angle at the foot of the ancient stone stairs. Her limbs twisted and bent in painful directions, as the blood that caked through her long dark hair seeped into a pool around her. The hardness of her bloodstained skull could be seen through the deep messy gash. Her breath slowed. Her pastel blue eyes which were once bright and full of life, now slowly dulled as her young existence inched closer to the end.

"Hey lassie," his voice whispered gently like the wind, "poor wee lassie. It's okay now. You're safe."

The older gentleman knelt, his bare knee against the hard and cold floor, but not a single chill did he feel. He waited and watched. His stomach twisted at the sight in front of him as he watched the girl's life edging away, knowing there was nothing he could do to help her tore at his heart. The spark in her eyes went out like a light, smouldering for a second, and nothing. Her eyes closed, followed by one final breath and then young Bethany Greyson slipped away. She was gone.

He arose from the ground and looked up, before giving a deep bow of respect. He waited. He watched. He'd been through that before, several times. However, this was the worst he'd witnessed. Such a life lost.

Something from above cast a blinding light across her corpse, as moments later the girl began to move and as if she were alive once more, she began to stand. Bethany rubbed her head, and the eerie sound of bones creaking into place echoed through the servants' quarters as she twisted her neck.

As she stood, saw it. The sight of herself laying dead at the foot of the floor. The blood slowly began to dry around her.

"What the actual fuck?"

"Hey Lassie," the man spoke, his accent as strong as the frost in the highlands from where he came.

Bethany looked, her eyes were as wide as saucepans and her head still ached.
"Who the hell are you?"

The man was dressed in his highland best, with a beaver sporran around her waist that hung slightly over his red tartan kilt. His long cream socks came up to his bony knobbly knees.

"The names Graham, Nigel Graham, the butler of Castle Stone, and you are, Lassie?"

As he spoke he gave a deep bow and held out his hand for her.

"I don't care if you're Charlie fucking Carson, what's happened to me?"

"Ah," he scoffed, and gave an itch of his balding hairline, "I think this is something for the lady of the house to explain. I'm not the touchy-feely type, Lassie. But basically, you're dead."

"Dead?" That couldn't be possible. How was she supposed to know that when she woke up in the morning that today would be the day she died?

"Aye, as dead as a dormouse."

For a moment Bethany stood in silence. Her gaze felt stuck on the corpse on the ground. Her stomach twisted and turned, but to her surprise, she didn't throw her dinner up on the floor. She watched as Nigel looked up and glanced at the wall.

"Lady Greyson, I summon you." He said, his hands clasped in front of his sporran, "I think we require your assistance."

A faint whisper of a woman's voice filled the room; it was so quiet that Bethany could only just hear it. She looked round to see where the voice was coming from, as she desperately struggled not to look at the gory sight on the floor. And that's when she saw it, the smoke appeared from nowhere, thick and dark, almost bluey grey. Bethany stared and watched in amazement as gradually the particles clustered together as they began to form a shape of a Lady.

She looked as if she'd just stepped out from inside the television after starring in a period drama. Her grey hair was piled up into a neatly styled updo. It made her appear at least forty, but not a single line burdened her perfect porcelain complexion. She was dressed in a long grey gown that appeared to be made from silk or satin. Its slim sleeves were ruffled with lace and the shoulders were slightly puffy. The skirt fell past her shoes and as she walked brushed against the floor. She stood a couple of inches taller than Bethany, and the young girl looked up at her, hoping someone could help her to understand exactly what would happen now. Now her life was over.