FICTION: We Have Always Battled Monsters in This Castle

Lightning drew a blue outline around the spires and towers of the castle on the mountaintop. Captain Rauch, high on his charger, pointed with his cavalry sword. ‘There, Doctor Kleist,’ he rumbled. ‘Do you see?’ Kleist lifted his skeletal features and peered from beneath his brimmed hat. His blue eyes gleamed. He waited a split second and then, as thunder cracked, said with perfect diction: ‘Castle. Grafenstein.’ Both men steadied their horses. ‘Grafenstein,’ repeated Rauch uncertainly, a fine line appearing between his dark eyebrows. ‘Yes, Grafenstein.’ Kleist pressed delicate fingertips to the ornate golden crucifix around his neck and snapped the reins to drive the horse along the strangely flat path into the forest that surrounded the mountain. Only a few moments later, it seemed, they arrived at the castle gate. Once again Rauch’s natural haughtiness was tempered by confusion. ‘I don’t remember… How…’ He looked back to where the woods should be and saw a nothingness. Kleist seemed…