Screams. Monstrous screams like medieval tortures in dark dungeons. Piercing screams to terrorise the soul of the terroriser. In the chill black night they crept above the village like a nightmare from which you could never wake. You were blessed if you did not hear them but touched with demons if you did. The shrill cries of abomination were shortly followed by the faint whimperings of a mortal mans death. But this man believed that his death had come at a price which was in his favour. That he had taken with him someone of far greater strength soothed him in his final moments of pitching blindly through the dark. As he hit the cold stone wall a vice-like grip grabbed his neck and pummelled his skull to pulp.

In the early hours of that night many people had horrifying nightmares about vile creatures slinking into their rooms, and when they awoke found it impossible to sleep again. Terror had welled up inside them to the degree of super-alertness; how could they relax when their silent rooms forebode a sense of watchful eyes outside the curtains?

Shadows, blacker than the night itself, rolled ominously down into the valley. As the shadows touched each house every lantern, fire and candle flickered out, leaving a darkness crawling like a million spiders. Sarah George had to endure 2 hours of this before the first light of day. She had been so tense she had hardly dared to breath. She'd half expected the darkness to snatch the air away from her. But with the light she breathed softly again and relaxed in the pale grey shadows. It was as if she'd snapped out of a trance.

As Sarah slept peacefully, ragged cumulus clouds tiptoed over the inky sky as a warning to the approaching cold front sweeping over the Ural mountains. Due to some evil curse no bird sang a single note that October morning, and the predawn silence lasted until the first stirring of the villagers rising for morning service.

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Kara trotted briskly down the worn old steps from Aeren Castle. She paid little attention to the angry sky which was mounting for an assault. The air was heavy with approaching thunder, and the first spots of rain were making dark splotches on the smooth grey steps. The landscape around her was vast. In front the Ural mountains soared up into the frothing storm clouds, and rain swept down into the distant valleys beyond. The grey-brown slopes opposite dived down into the valley below her. The village, having lost its summer greens, was bathed in a sea of dull brown and yellow. The U-shaped valley wove away into the distance to her left and right. Behind her, steep heathery slopes ran up to her home on the hill, Aeren castle. This resting place to generations of her ancestors was associated with the village but certainly did not need it....until now.

Kara looked back at the charcoal towers jutting up into the cloud base. It looked to her like the black crown of an evil king, leaning over her like an angry father. The young lady quickened her pace as the steps began to wind down between loosely scattered pine trees. The slope was so steep that as she passed one tree she was level with the crest of the next. The rain was getting heavier and heavier, though the pines muffled the sound somewhat, and Kara realised she had forgotten a coat in her haste. It was no bother to her, but she thought it would look odd to the villagers. As she came to the ruins of an old stone wall and stepped carefully over the slippery rocks a deep rumble of thunder echoed around the mountains ahead.

The steps had ended and Kara half ran, half slid down the steep sodden pastures. Here she was exposed to a gusty wind. The rain lashed down and felt like needles pricking her face. When she finally found a track it had turned into a muddy torrent of water, and by now she was totally soaked through. The thunder reared up again, now much louder and closer. She walked carefully down the winding track which was bounded by high overgrown verges on each side. It was like walking through a bomb-blasted trench.

The purpley-grey clouds marching above glowed yellow for an instant before a mighty clap of thunder drowned out the pounding rain. As the thunder died away to a whimper Kara saw the first house of the village. Like most of the village houses it was single story, and poorly constructed from dark rocks about the size of a human head. It had a rickety slate roof and a small chimney with smoke streaming out almost horizontally in the biting gale. The rain hammered against the roof, spraying up wildly, while torrents of water gushed over the edge.

Kara passed several more houses before the track joined onto the main village road. The road was much wider and lined with two-story terraces, and there were several pubs and inn-houses. The road was deserted as far as she could see, but there were lights on in most windows. It was perhaps 5 or 6 years since she had last been in the village, and she hoped noone would see her and wonder what she was up to. She turned left out of the track and ran down the road, splashing through the potholes. The sheer wind was picking up water throwing into fans of spray ahead of her. The thunder was now rushing away from the village, but another storm was brewing in the distance.

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Sarah sat cuddled up in a cosy armchair in the living room listening to the storm. She was a tall young woman with long gold-brown hair and wide eyes, and most of the young men in the village found her undeniable beauty irresistible. She was quite surprised that noone had called round thismorning to see if she needed anything. Her father, Oleg George, the village doctor, was always worried that he didn't have enough time for her and that the young men might upset her. Indeed, he was out all morning visiting patients, but she was a very independent young lady, and felt that she could deal with anything herself. For the last few years Oleg had taught Sarah most of what he knew so that she could help him continue his work after he was gone. He had started her young because his wife had died when Sarah was 16, and he could not manage it all on his own. Anyone who called with a problem while Dr. George was out could be confident that his daughter would be able to help.

As Sarah wondered if the rain was dying down a little there was a stern knock at the door. It sounded quite urgent, but she expected to see a drenched young man who had braved the weather to check if she was alright. To her surprise there stood a young woman dripping from head to foot. She had short dark hair, some of it strewn across a mysteriously beautiful face. She appeared anxious, but her eyes were deep and inwardly calm. Sarah had never seen her before, and wondered if she was an outsider. She was intrigued by this stranger, and almost invited her in before asking what she wanted.

"I'd like to speak to Dr.George please." said the stranger.
"Well, you'd better come in then." Normally Sarah would have said that Dr.George was out, but she thought the stranger might leave at this news.
"Come into the kitchen and you can dry off a bit." added Sarah as the stranger slipped off her mud-soaked shoes. As Sarah searched for a towel she shouted back "What's your name?"
"Kara Bescarte," said Kara as she walked into the kitchen leaving a trail of water behind her.
"And where are you from?" said Sarah, coming back with a towel. The question seemed to unsettle Kara, and she looked down at the floor.
"I'd rather discuss it with Dr.George if you don't mind."
"I'm afraid he'll be out for some time," said Sarah, "but I'm a trained doctor, if that's what you wanted him for." Seeing the disappointment in Karas face she added "I'm Sarah, Dr.Georges daughter, and I'll help in any way I can."
Kara didn't look up, still troubled over what to do.
"Why don't you tell me what the problem is?" asked Sarah, who was now quite concerned.
Kara seemed to sense this.
"My grandmother has been in an accident and is badly hurt."
"What kind of accident?" Kara ignored the question.
"Will you come with me to Castle Aeren?" said Kara quite sternly.
"Castle Aeren?"
Sarah had not expected that. The name was rarely spoken in the village. It remained a place of mystery, and for many, a place of evil. The villagers believed a rich and eccentric ancestry had dwelt there through the ages, and that the modern occupants had gone mad or evil or both. There were many disappearances over the last few years which had been linked to the castle. Personally, Sarah didn't believe the more chilling rumours and was quite intrigued by the place. But now, she didn't know whether to be happy or scared that she had been asked to go, and she remained flustered for a while longer.

"Don't worry," said Kara, "none of what they say about us is true."
Sarah's desire to help Kara eventually overcame her reservations. She fetched her bag, then led Kara to the door.
"Would you like to borrow a coat?" asked Sarah, as she put her own on.
"No, I'll be fine thanks."

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Sarah had a lot of things she wanted to know, but she knew it would be inappropriate to ask at that time, so she opened the door to the relentless rain. The two women ran up the road to the mountain track. The next belt of thunderclouds was now nearly upon them. They went exactly the same way that Kara had come down. Sarah found it very difficult scrambling up the slippery pastures. She was relieved when they reached the silver-soaked steps and began the long ascent. When they came out of the pine trees Sarah barely had any strength left and was shivering with the cold. A lot of rain had seeped down her neck and soaked her clothes. She sighed when she saw the castle turrets like match sticks and realised how far there was yet to go. As the castle loomed closer Sarah thought that the black pinnacles did not look very inviting at all. The castle grew huge and threatening as they approached and tinges of apprehension danced in Sarah's chest. It was difficult to compose herself as she panted for breath. Strangely, Kara was not out of breath in the slightest, and Sarah couldn't think of anyone so fit.

They soon reached a huge sodden-brown mahogany door with iron bolted strips. The castle bent over them and Sarah was impressed with the sheer scale of it, if not slightly overwhelmed.
"Wait here," said Kara. Then she slipped quickly through the door.
"But I'm.." protested Sarah as the door closed, "..freezing."

For 10 minutes Sarah sat shivering with her back against the door. She gazed down the steep slopes, watching the valley floor dissolve into the dull shards of rain. It seemed to her as if there was some great secret which Kara had to cover up beforehand, which worried her a great deal. She was wondering what the other members of the Bescarte family would be like when something latched onto her numbing shoulders. She scrambled up in fright and turned to see a tall man grinning infront of her. He was dressed in a long black robe so that you couldn't see is feet. He had a middle-aged face, with short, dark, swept-back hair gone white at the edges, clean-shaven. His eyes seemed a little too black and a little too glazed, but were still piercing. He reminded Sarah of a Raven.
"It's alright my dear," said the man, "I didn't mean to scare you." He had quite a low voice, but it was not rough and his words remained crisp. Sarah felt anxious, but wanted to stand up for herself.
"Then why didn't you say `excuse me', like anyone else would have done?"
She thought it a very strange thing to do, creep up on someone like that, and she began to wonder if the family really had gone mad as the stories foretold.
"I hope you will forgive me, and also that daughter of mine for leaving you out hear like this. Please...do come in."

Mr.Bescarte opened the door and beckoned Sarah inside. She expected something very grand, but there was always a tinge of dread gnawing away at her. She took a deep breath before stepping out of the rain. The first thing to strike her was how dark it was inside, and then that there was absolutely no splendour or finery. After that the immense size of the hall became apparent. It was large enough to fit several houses and many more stacked on top. Lanterns shimmered softly high up on the walls, but cast only a feeble light on the dark grey stone. There was not a single thing on the smooth floor except a stone stairway to her right, up against the outward facing wall. This led up to a high balcony which ran around all four walls, but which had no rail to prevent someone falling the 20 metres or so to the floor. Many dark stairways led off from the balcony to the unknown heights above.

When Sarah looked up she saw walls disappearing into blackness, so that it was impossible to guess just how high the ceiling was. She suddenly felt very small in the colossal cavern, and noticed how cold it was as icy currents spiralled downwards from the towering heights above.
"I know it's cold in here Miss George, but it is difficult to heat such a large room, and those wet clothes of yours aren't helping. You can dry off by the fire." Mr.Bescarte's words echoed back from the vastness above. The thought of a fire brought some warmth back to Sarah. But as silence fell she noticed that she couldn't hear the hammering rain outside. She had a horrible thought that she was completely trapped inside the castle. It only lasted a second though, as Mr.Bescarte began to stride across the room. Sarah followed, water still trickling down her face. Her footsteps chattered away like bats on the distant ceiling. The far wall loomed nearer. Sarah thought she glimpsed a tiny shadow draw back into one of the stairways on the balcony, but she quickly dismissed it as her mind playing tricks on her.

They reached a small rounded door near the far corner of the hall. Mr.Bescarte unbolted the door and the echo snapped back from behind. As the door creaked inwards a warm orange glow leapt onto Sarah's face. She walked into a long room with a normal height ceiling. The walls were decorated with portraits of dark-robed ancestors, and suits of armour hung between the paintings. At the near end and to their right a healthy fire was burning in the hearth, casting orange sparkles onto the shiny armoury. Further down the room was a long sculpted table, absolutely bare, which vanished into the darkness where the halo of firelight ended. Before them were a couple of lavish sofas and a large patterned rug in front of the fire. There were no windows in the room, but it looked cosy enough.

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"I'll leave you here if you don't mind Miss George." said Mr.Bescarte, "Just ring the bell when you are ready to see to the patient, and I will send someone to get you."
"I shouldn't be long." said Sarah as she knelt down on the rug and showed her palms to the fire. Mr.Bescarte shut the door without making a sound, leaving only the murmur of the crackling fire filling the room. As she dried she wondered about the other members of the family, and why none of them were ever seen in the village, and what they must do all day. Suddenly she became aware of a faint hissing sound from in front of her, like slow deep breaths. She looked closely at the wall above the fire and the noise stopped. An unsettled feeling started to grow inside her and she hoped that she wouldn't find out the answers to her questions after all.

A log on the fire gave way and the ones on top tumbled down with a thud, sending legions of sparks wheeling up the chimney. Sarah suddenly remembered that she had a job to do, but had a ghastly feeling that she wouldn't be able to deal with it. She paused for a few seconds with her hand on the laced bell cord, and again detected the faint drawing of breath. She certainly didn't want to stay any longer with that, so she gently tugged the cord three times.

Sarah stood by the door, looking towards the fire. As she watched, the orange flames flashed to a deep red colour, and their flickering began to slow down. It was as if the flames were becoming thick and viscous. Then the swaying red spikes of flame began to bulge as if becoming solid. Tiny thorns sprouted from them, making them slippery with blood. Out of the turmoil of the dripping tentacles emerged her own head, her eyes wide and screaming out in terror. The blood-soaked vines then wrapped themselves around her skull and dragged it back into the orange flames. Sarah couldn't believe what she was seeing and almost let out a scream.

She was shivering with nerves, and looked anywhere but the fire. "Oh no.." she mumbled, "Come on, control yourself." But it was no good. She got more and more panicked as she realised she wasn't in a fit state to act as a doctor.
"Someone save me from this, please." she stammered to herself. Just then the door unbolted and slowly creaked open.

Sarah stepped back and Kara slipped into the room. She had changed into a black ribbony gown and her hair had been dried, although Sarah didn't notice this.
"You look like you've seen a ghost." said Kara quite pleasantly. There was a calming aura about her, and Sarah relaxed and stopped fidgeting.
"Oh, it's nothing really."
"Come on then."
Sarah started towards the door and Kara laughed, "Your bag."
"Oh, yes....sorry." said Sarah, awkwardly turning back to pick it up.
"People have said this rooms a bit eerie. Plays tricks with your imagination."

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Part II

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