The night was dark and cold. Pale moonlight streamed from between the gathering rainclouds; its light causing the stony castle below to shine with an eerie, ghostlike glow. The structure rose from the earth like the hand of a massive beast; claw-like spires stabbing defiantly into the sky. Gargoyles of many different sizes and shapes were scattered along its roofing, their carved bodies twisting out from the stone. Surrounding the castle was a thick wall made of boulders so massive, one would disbelieve immediately that mortal men had built it. This assumption was correct.

The wall had been built by monsters, and so had the castle.

There was only one way past the wall, and that was through a gate made of twisted, thorny metal. It, as well as the grim-looking rock barrier, resolutely discouraged any common outsider from entering of their own will. On this fateful night, however, the thorn gate was wide open. This was unusual, because the castle’s two beasty residents often kept the gate closed during the night. Though they weren’t the particularly fierce or fearful type, and actually enjoyed company once in a while.

One was Prince Voidwraith, a black-furred, royal-yet-rude creature. He wore a purple cape with gold wings; a sign of his position. The other was his bodyguard, Mr. Stinkfoot, a round grey monster with tentacle arms and blue hairy feet. They were both dead, lying in pools of their own blood near their castle’s open doorway.

However…their murder did not go unnoticed…



A figure strode out of the castle doorway, its weapon still drawn. It was human in appearance, wearing a white shirt, a bloodstained trench coat, cargo trousers, and military-grade combat boots. The man seemed like a soldier from a distance; a modern ‘Van Helsing’. However, upon closer inspection, his eyes guarded great fear, and every move he made required more effort than the last. He stopped a moment, looking over his shoulder; the moonlight accenting the silver in his hair and beard.

The monsters he’d killed still lay there, the Prince’s sightless gaze seemingly locked onto him. Shuddering, the man quickly approached the castle again, pushing its huge front door shut. When he turned around, a St. Bernard-sized raven was standing right in the path. Startled, he aimed at it, and animal hopped back a bit, the wind from its wings buffeting man’s legs.

“Alabaster Finch.” the raven croaked, fixing one eye on him.

Unnerved, the man tensed up, but didn’t shoot.

“You killed our prince.” it continued.

The man did not change his position. There were some fluttering sounds, and a host of normal-sized crows landed around the courtyard.

“He’s spilled royal blood!” one of them cried. “They were innocent!”

The large raven crouched down, spreading its wings slightly to its sides. Its eyes glowed a bright green, and it recited:



The rest of the birds took up the chant, until the air shook with their cries.

“…Finch…”

“…murderer…”

“…pain…”

“…evil…”

“…embrace…”

“…slain…”

“…forevermore…cursed…forevermore…”

The hunter lost his nerve and bolted for the castle gate, stumbling through it. Pale-faced, he continued to run, his eyes burning with wild fear. He had to get away from this place. The crows swirled into the air, pursuing him through the woods.

Back at the castle, the oversized raven hopped up to the castle door. Hovering before it, the bird grasped the handle with its talons and pulled it open. Moonlight spilled through the opening, coating the dead monsters in lunar frost. The raven walked alongside the bodies, carefully closing their eyelids as it passed. It then stood by them, wings outspread and head bowed.

“Dear Prince…” the bird whispered. “…you and your guard will never be forgotten.”

Thunder crashed overhead, and the downpour stirred the gargoyles on the castle roof. They lifted their jewelled eyes to the sky; their grating shrieks of sorrow lasting the rest of the night.