Mark lives a quiet life in Northern California’s Sierra Nevada foothills. When he’s not reading or writing supernatural horror, he enjoys the great outdoors and his proximity to nature’s creations, including Yosemite and Lake Tahoe, with his wife and children.
Mark’s debut novel, The Gallery, is now available on Kindle Unlimited and paperback HERE and delves into the life of Sam, a desperate father who, in the late 19th and early 20th century, struggles to save his ailing daughter and becomes tangled in a web of malicious deceit. Driven by desperation, he strikes a risky deal with an evil entity, believing it's his only chance to rescue his child. The entity's deceptions run deep, and its demands will prove overwhelming.
NIGHT WATCH AT THE CASTLE
by
Mark Trenyer
Working the graveyard shift at Preston Castle, you’d think it would be thrilling, right? Especially given the dark history of the place. It had been permanently shut down after the incident. You don’t know about the incident? One night, one of the inmates… well, I guess a better way to put it would be ‘troubled boys,’ Jake Owens, was roaming the castle looking for trouble. When asked why he was out of bed by one of the ladies who worked there, he attacked her. In the struggle, which he should have won, he was pushed over the staircase's railing and fell to his death. Anyway, now that you know, I’ll get on with my story. So, you’d think it would be thrilling, right? Well, for months, it was anything but. Long hours wandering the dark halls, flashlight in hand, gets old pretty fast. It went from thrilling to monotonous in about half a minute.
That is, until one night. I started my routine, as usual, but there was a tension in the air. I can’t say what it was or whether it was me or the castle, but something wasn’t right. It was like the static before a lightning storm. Things went from a little weird to outright scary pretty fast that night. I started hearing footsteps, but couldn’t find anyone there. Doors that stood wide open for years slammed shut. Suddenly, it felt as if something was lurking in every shadow. I had never been a believer in ghosts and things that go bump in the night, but that was changing fast.
The following day was the start of my weekend. I went to the library and checked out every book I could find on hauntings and the occult. I didn’t just want to know about hauntings; I needed to know how to stop them. I spent two days learning how to deal with these things; next time, I’d be prepared.
When I showed up for my next shift, the swing shift guard didn’t show up for changeover. I cursed under my breath—typical laziness. I’d have to report this. It wasn’t until later, doing my rounds, that my irritation turned into sheer terror. Stuffed under a staircase near the kitchen was his lifeless body, his face pale and eyes filled with horror. What the hell happened?
With one hand, I scanned the area with the flashlight, looking for any sign of a perpetrator while fumbling with my cell phone with the other hand to call 911. Just when it looked like the call was going to connect, a low battery symbol flashed across the screen before it shut off. Oh, come on! It was fully charged when I left home!
Suddenly, the doors in the hall started slamming open and shut again. I felt an evil presence. It was Jake. Don’t ask me how I knew; I just did; it was a certainty, just like I know my own name.
I was far from any way out of the enormous building, so I proceeded with caution. In a twist of fate, I stumbled upon an old book lying on the floor. It was Jake’s old diary. Its presence was impossible. The place had been abandoned years ago. It was like it was intentionally left here for me to find. A chill ran through me as I read his last entries, where he outlined his plan to poison the food and murder as many of the other boys as he could.
I heard footsteps behind me. I spun around, waving the flashlight back and forth, but saw no one. Remembering my studies of the occult over the weekend, I began reciting, as best as I could recall, a binding spell to trap the malevolent spirit. It felt as if the entire castle was revolting as the room shook around me. Plaster fell from the ceiling, and I feared the old structure would collapse. I pressed on, chanting louder, demanding the binding of Jake’s soul, desperately citing the words, as best I could remember as if my life depended on it because it did.
As the first light of dawn broke through the windows, the battle began to wane. All was quiet. I had emerged the victor. As I neared the exit, I noticed the large mirror on the foyer wall had cracked during the battle. I examined it and, with growing anxiety, saw there was no reflection. The room began to spin around me. Everything looked different, almost like a dream. I tried to step out the door but could not; the light was blinding.
With gut-wrenching clarity, I realized I hadn’t survived the confrontation.
Now, I’m bound here, to the castle, just like Jake. While he is the force behind the castle’s dark energy, I linger as a warning to others, forever making my rounds on the graveyard shift.