Welcome to Castle Cove

by Kory M. Shrum

  All in all, I would say I have no regrets. I finally feel like I know where I belong.

  The End

  Create a new story

  Nope. Time to get the hell out of Castle Cove.

  “You know what? I’m not feeling so great. Can you tell Mr. Benedict that I’m not going to make it tonight?”

  John stiffens. “Care to share why?”

  “I need to go. I can’t spend another minute in this town.” If people are going missing and weird shit is happening…it’s only a matter of time before something happens that I can’t take back.

  John doesn’t argue or try to keep me. He makes his goodbyes without much fuss. I watch him leave the building and climb back into the black car on the curb. I don’t move from the window until he pulls away.

  It takes me thirty minutes to shove all my clothes and electronics into a bag. I resolve to hire a shipping company to come get the rest and send it to my mother’s house in Maryland. I only take the things I’d be sad to lose. It takes me nearly five minutes to find Sushi, but once I offer him the cat carrier—which he usually detests—he seems all too willing to get in it.

  It’s not even ten o’clock when I climb into my car and pull away. In the rearview mirror, I see light spilling from my apartment onto the balcony. I consider going back to turn it off, until I see the light click off.

  By itself.

  I push my foot down harder on the gas. Midnight Pass, the long road carving a path through the canyon, leads me along the ridge overlooking the cove. The sea glitters in the moonlight.

  If I strain, I see shadows moving on the beach below. Nighttime bathers enjoying the waves and moonlight.

  Once I’m on the uppermost part of the ridge, I glance back at the ruined castle in the rearview mirror.

  Until something flashes in the road.

  A girl glows in my headlights. Her eyes, black as river water, are wide and frightened. The side of her neck is bloody, seeping down the front of her shirt.

  I slam on my breaks, screaming.

  It’s Katie. I’m going to hit Katie, I think.

  But when the car stops, she isn’t there. I look in the rearview mirror and she isn’t behind me. Nor do I see her through any of the windows.

  I get out and walk all around the car.

  I get down on my hands and knees and look between the tires.

  There’s no one.

  I’m losing my damn mind. I must’ve imagined seeing Katie—Katie’s ghost—walking down the middle of this dark, deserted road.

  A howl breaks open the night, carried on a soft breeze. It smells of salt water and the lush forest stretching behind the ruined castle. I hear another howl from those trees, forming a chorus with the first. Both now closer.

  Sushi meows from inside the car, breaking the trance of the night around me.

  I climb back into the car and speed off down the dark road once more.

  Without much thought, I make it to the interstate. The traffic picks up the usual line of cars on a late Saturday night, coming or going from their dark destinations.

  I don’t look back.

  Sometimes my mother asks what happened in Castle Cove. I simply tell her that it wasn’t a good fit. She makes her own assumptions about crime, probably wondering if a man was involved. I never elaborate.

  But sometimes, when I wake in the night, cold and shivering—I can hear those waves crashing against the cove’s rocks, and I see a girl walking the road, alone, calling out to anyone who will listen.

  The End

  Create a new story

  Truth

  The stone door in front of us slides away, revealing a fire.

  “Where are we?” I ask.

  “Go on.”

  “I can’t just walk through a fire.”

  “You can. We are under my estate,” he says, surprised. “What did you ask for?”

  “The truth. I want to know why I’m here, in Castle Cove.”

  “You can cross the fire without being burned. Go on.”

  I pass over the fire as quickly as possible, hoping this isn’t some kind of elaborate way to dispose of my body.

  But the flames are cold, not hot. And I pass through just fine.

  Ethan has already disappeared down the spiral staircase. I hurry to catch up. The air grows noticeable colder as we continue to descend. Two floors? Four? Ten? I can’t tell. But we must be underground, inside the seaside cliffs.

  When I reach the last step, I gasp.

  The walkway is beautiful cut stone leading to a sarcophagus in the center of the room. Ethan leans over it, cooing sweetly to whatever lay inside.

  I’m drawn to the walls. The elaborate stone carvings that clearly tell a story the way old tombs told of Greek gods’ victories and failures.

  This is a holy place.

  “I shouldn’t be here.”

  “Don’t be shy,” Ethan says. “Come forward.”

  I do, hyperaware of the way my steps echo off the stone walls.

  “Come on,” Ethan coaxes again, motioning for me to look into the sarcophagus.

  Just before I peer over the edge, it begins to groan. I step back with a shriek, convinced that this is a trick. They’re going to shove me inside and let me rot.

  Ethan is smiling. “It lifts the platform to the top. You’ll see. Should something happen to me or this house, this was created to seal itself shut, become impenetrable. It could fall to the bottom of the ocean and not a single drop would get inside. And she could lay there for all eternity until the end of the world.”

  The platform stops rising. Upon it lays the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen. The sleeping woman doesn’t move a muscle.

  “You have questions?” Ethan asks me.

  “Yes,” I say without hesitation. Who is this woman? Where did she come from? Why in the world am I here in this bizarre town?

  I don’t dare ask any of them aloud, embarrassed by my own ignorance.

  “Kiss her,” Ethan whispers.

  “What?”

  “Kiss her,” Ethan says again. “Lightly on the lips.”

  I don’t want to imagine what will happen to me if I don’t kiss her. Her lips are cold and hard. Like kissing a rock I just fished out of the ocean. But when our lips connect, I am transported.

  Her name is Vendetta, and she is older than Castle Cove itself.

  I see Vendetta alive. A rendition of Snow White. Rich, long dark locks and ruby red lips. I see her human family before they were taken by a cruel queen and slaughtered. I see what the queen’s soldiers did to her poor body, after forcing her onto her hands and knees. And what powers the witch—no, goddess—of that tree bestowed upon her so Vendetta could have her revenge.

  I came to understand that the castle ruins in the distance, is all that remains of the queen Vendetta defeated. And that the crone tree that keeps Castle Cove safe and imbues it with power, is still here, hidden deep in the Wayward Woods.

  And we are all here because she is gathering us. Her army, for another battle that is yet to come. She serves the goddess of the crone tree, and we serve her.

  Castle Cove was once her kingdom, the castle ruins in the distance, all that remains of the queen Vendetta defeated. And that the crone tree that keeps Castle Cove safe and imbues it with power, is still here, hidden deep in the Wayward Woods.

  Vendetta serves the goddess of the crone tree.

  We serve Vendetta.

  I pull back, tears staining my cheeks.

  “She is our mother. Our maker,” Ethan says, tenderly. “Do you understand that?”

  Every creature in this town was born of her. And I will be one of them, before the sun rises.

  “Yes,” I whisper. I look up and meet his eyes. “Is that why you wanted me to kiss her? So I would see all that?”

  He shrugs. “I don’t know what Vendetta showed you. That is between you and her. I know only that she has welcomed you into the fold, and you are one of us now.”

  Ethan steps towa
rd me, his grin mischievous.

  I see the hint of fangs. The flames sparking to life in his eyes. He takes me in his arms. “Are you ready?”

  The End

  Create a new story

  Have another drink.

  “I’m more ready to drink than explore my dark desires at the moment, to be honest, Mr. Benedict—”

  “Ethan.”

  I swallow hard. “Ethan…” I like the way his name feels on my tongue. It takes a breath to refocus myself and also consider how much wine I’ve had exactly. “I’m finding it difficult to get a clear read on you.”

  Curiosity sparks in his eyes. “What is your assessment so far?”

  “I don’t want to cross any boundaries so early in our relationship…” My face flushes hot. “Our working relationship. But I want to make sure I understand what you want so I can best serve you.”

  Serve you. Oh god. Just stop now.

  The bartender puts a rocks glass full of amber liquid in front of Ethan. I didn’t even see him order a drink. “I promise I will not take offense.”

  I consider my words carefully.

  “I’ve just had a hard day. My friend is missing, and I’ve learned this town is full of…”

  Don’t say monsters.

  “People.”

  He smiles. “Towns often contain people.”

  “Not vampire people. Not wolf people.”

  He considers me for a long moment, and I begin to feel like I’ve definitely overstepped my bounds.

  “I’m sorry—” I begin again, but he holds up his hand.

  “It’s all right. You just want to know what I am, and if I pose a threat to you.”

  I dare to nod.

  “If you are being honest with me, I suppose I can be honest with you, too, and let you know the real reason I was interested in meeting you. But we can’t discuss that here. I’d rather take this conversation upstairs to my office, where we will not be so easily overheard. I would understand if you have reservations about going upstairs alone with me. So I will not force you to come.”

  I search his dark eyes for any malice or deceit. I don’t see any cruelty there. No dark schemes to hack up my body and throw it into the cove for the sharks to gobble up before dawn. Of course, psychopaths are often described as charming, so what do I know?

  “I’ll go upstairs with you,” I tell him. I catch the bartender’s eyes. “A water please. In the biggest glass you have.”

  Oddly, he looks to Mr. Benedict for confirmation as if he needs the man’s permission to pour me a water. Maybe he does.

  Ethan nods and the bartender pulls a pint glass from a shelf and fills it with water from a metal pitcher.

  Ethan, I think, catching myself using his first name. Have we really turned that corner already?

  You are going upstairs to his office. Alone, my mind chides.

  Fair point.

  “This way,” Ethan says and slides from the stool. Instead of walking toward the labyrinth’s arch, which I can’t help but glance at as we pass—feeling again that hypnotic pull—I accept the water and slide off my own stool.

  I don’t miss the looks we get as we pass. From the dancers, the workers, and those nestled in dark corners on plush cushions. Most slide over me curiously, many others are downright jealous, their lips lifting into unmistakable sneers, even in the dim light.

  To my horror, I think Ethan is going to ask me to dance. He starts across the dance floor, toward the booth.

  But then I realize that the wall of black beneath the DJ booth isn’t as solid as I first assumed. There’s a door there, and Ethan pushes it open with one hand while ushering me through.

  I step into the dimly lit hallway and feel Ethan’s hand, warm and steady on my low back.

  “The stairs are on the right,” he says into my ear. His hot breath jolts me again, and I grip the water glass harder than is really necessary.

  I find the handrail and begin my assent. At the top of the stairs, I’m relieved to see a large walnut desk and highback leather chair. To the left is a fireplace, crackling. The logs gleam perfectly, unmarred by the heat. Gas then. To the right is a wall of floor-to-ceiling books. I stare at those for a long time. I’m not sure why in the world I would be so bewildered by books but…

  “A little out of place for a nightclub,” he says, following my gaze to the bookcase. “It’s true you wouldn’t find much pleasure reading on those shelves. These are mostly reference texts. Law and business codex that I refer to when necessary. I’m afraid I reserve my pleasure reading for home.”

  He goes around the desk, putting the enormous slab of wood between us. Probably not going to murder me now then. I relax into a seat opposite him.

  His eyes reflect the firelight.

  I cock my head. “I can’t hear the bar here.”

  “The walls are soundproofed.” He flashes me a grin. “More practical, if I need to make a call before Damien completes his set.”

  I arch an eyebrow.

  “The DJ. He’s very good.”

  I nod. “So what is this real reason you wanted to meet me?”

  “I like to meet all new residents. Get a feel for them, if you will. You can imagine I am very particular about who moves into our community.”

  He leans back in his chair, lacing his fingers over his crossed knees. Casual. Gorgeous. I hope I’m not staring.

  Ethan’s face softens. “I think it’s best if we stick to the truth, don’t you?”

  I nod.

  “Do you know how rare new residents are in Castle Cove?”

  I shake my head. But since the room dovetails into a spin, it’s a very short shake—and something I vow never to repeat.

  “I would say that we get no more than twenty new residents a year. Most are sacrifices or they are gifts. This is Vendetta’s way.”

  I repeat his words in my head, not sure I understand them. It must be clear by the expression on my face.

  “Let’s begin again. How did you come to be in Castle Cove?” he asks, those dark eyes swimming with firelight.

  “I saw a job ad. I thought it would be a good fit, and I was itching to leave Baltimore.”

  “Serendipitous. Did the ad speak to you? Seem written just for you?”

  I try to recall the exact wording of the job ad, but I can’t. But I do remember thinking I was perfect for the job.

  “What if I told you that Laura never placed such an ad? That we, in fact, have no job vacancies at all in Castle Cove.”

  I can’t hide my confusion.

  “New residents are called to Castle Cove,” he says. “They will see a postcard or a television advertisement. They’ll hear about it in a book. Or they will have a dream…dreams were the only way, in the beginning. But as the world changes, so does Vendetta’s power.”

  I can’t hide my confusion.

  “My point is that one does not find Castle Cove. It finds you.”

  I grip my glass harder before my drink slips from my hand completely. Ethan leans forward to put a coaster down for me. It seems such a fussy gesture that I almost burst out laughing.

  This is all too much. Too surreal.

  I’m about to say so, but he’s talking again.

  “It doesn’t matter how they hear of it. The fact remains that one moment they didn’t know it existed and the next they do—and it calls to them. They think about it when they wake in the morning. When they drive to work or to the store. When they settle down to have dinner at night. It calls on them until they give in, pack their bags, and arrive. How long did you resist?”

  “I didn’t really,” I admit. I don’t elaborate as to why I was so desperate to leave.

  I think of Katie, of the newbie status that originally bonded us.

  “Sacrifices. Gifts,” Ethan murmurs to himself, tilting his drink so that the ice slides along the glass. “She is a good mother and always looks out for her children.”

  “Mr. Benedict—”

  “Ethan,” he corrects.

/>   “Ethan,” I begin. Saying his name makes my face flush hot. “Maybe I’ve had too much to drink, but I’m having a hard time following you.”

  “You aren’t drunk.”

  I don’t know what to say to that. His assessment doesn’t change the fact that my head is swimming, and my stomach knots. My mind has taken off in a fierce replay. I keep recalling the moment I saw the job ad in the paper. Thinking how perfect it was, how good it would be to get away from Baltimore and my ex and the horrible relationship that just ended. How perfect it had felt…

  “Castle Cove is special,” he says as if to draw me back to the present, to him. “As you are beginning to realize. And you are to be with us, that much we know. If you weren’t, Vendetta would have never allowed you to cross the city limits.”

  “Vendetta? As in Vendetta Heights?”

  He nods. “She is a real woman, not just a namesake. It’s her power that cloaks and protects this place. And she’s the reason you’re here.”

  “Because she called to me?” I ask. I feel like I’m in a dream. Like I’m speaking underwater and the words, malformed, are simply bubbling away.

  “Maybe you were meant to undo Henry and Richard’s plans. Maybe you were meant to be one of us, one of Vendetta’s children. Perhaps you have some talent or gift that will be of service to us now or in the future. Whatever her reason, I wanted to meet you myself, see if I could discern your purpose just by looking into those pretty eyes.”

  My stomach knots. “I can’t say I understand all of this.”

  “Ask whatever you like,” he says, lifting his drink to his lips.

  Choice 59

  Ask about Katie and this sacrifice business

  Ask about Vendetta

  Ask about Katie and this sacrifice business.