As
I sat and stared at the grand red ornate building I knew that my
mind was made up – this would be where I would spend the next three
years. There was something enthralling about it – it was beautiful:
sculpted, gabled and be-towered. It looked almost as if it had grown
from the very bedrock of the area, and had naturally evolved into
its present form. History books decreed that it was built in the
early-eighteenth century and, over the years, was used for many
and varied purposes – a home for widows and orphans, a school for
young girls, a lunatic asylum and a hospital for war victims.
But even though
you know such things, even though the history books deny it – there
are those of us who believe in the more fantastical side of life.
It is us who are more likely to have overactive imaginations pounce
upon our tired minds at unexpected moments and make us unsure about
what actually happened…
The moon was
already waning in its nightly circuit as I began stalking homewards.
My mood was almost as black as the woods I was heading for.
The night was
wild – the kind of night when gentlemen fear for their own safety
when walking you home. The wind beat at the tree-tops; the branches
moaned in protest and leaves whistled their displeasure. The wind
raced along the paths in a lap of honour for its victory – it had
chased all living things into hiding. No breath but mine disturbed
its sport. My steadfast step was an affront, and it clawed at my
hair and clothes.
I reached the
southern wall of the great red building. The motion-activated light
flared briefly as I approached the steps. It was in that moment
I looked back and saw the faces – the stony stares of goblin-faced
gargoyles which peered out from the walls and locked their gaze
with mine, but only for a moment. Just as the light disappeared
I thought that one face moved ever so slightly.
I was convinced
that it was merely my over-active imagination playing games with
my weary mind. Nevertheless, I knew I couldn’t leave unless I checked.
I moved back again to activate the light and I concentrated on the
wall. I couldn’t swear to it, but there were more than I’d noticed
before. One face in particular sparked a memory – it looked like
a malevolent version of the right-hand door-knocker. I could still
picture them when the light blinked out once more.
As I reached
the bottom of the steps I thought I heard a sound, almost indistinct
among the orchestra of the wind. It was akin to fingernails scraping
across concrete. But faster.
No better time
for thoughts to run rampant! After all, this was a night from the
nightmares of fairy-land. My thoughts were not the only things running
– I began to hurry along the woodland path. The foliage of trees
and bushes was close in on both sides. The wind stamped in and out
making them dance in a frenzy. Within a very short time I was convinced
that the stone goblins were pursuing me for uncovering their secret
and for daring to intrude on their night of faery mischief, hidden
by nature’s reckless abandon. Now it was they
who caused the branches to dance as they ran to catch up with me.
I broke into
a jog – the wind continued, blowing from behind as if to speed my
progress. With little more warning than a groan I heard a branch
splinter and fall away from its trunk, beating the bushes before
it landed with a thud. A thud which sounded much closer to me than
was comfortable. I took to my heels and ran. If the goblins way
up in the tree were laughing at me, I couldn’t hear them.
The quiet and
stillness of my Halls of Residence was the most welcome gift that
I could have been offered. Yet even after I’d calmed my thoughts
and still racing heart, and after I’d lain my weary frame to rest
in bed, there was still something that wasn’t right. What feeble
light there was outside made silhouettes through my window, I could
see strange forms, indistinct, through my curtains. It had started
to rain. The Sleep-Piper’s tune won the better of me as the steady
patter of wind-battered rain became a rhythmic knocking at my window…
as that of many hands…
It
was a couple of days before I passed the south wall of the great
red building again. I paused intentionally to look at those goblin
gargoyles again, and see if they looked different in the noon-day
sun. For a moment I forgot to breathe – there were no faces on the
wall.
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