Cainfield: A Gothic Horror by Zachary Mahnke

Author:Zachary Mahnke [Mahnke, Zachary]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2023-07-03T04:00:00+00:00

15/07/1897 — 12:46 AM

Something awful happened.

It was no more than thirty minutes ago that I left the bedchamber in search of a bath to rid myself of the dust and grime I’ve accumulated throughout my journey to the Cairngorm Mountains. The castle is dimly lit, so I found myself floundering through a great many halls and corridors in search of any door that wasn’t locked. But alas, there came no such salvation. With a level of reluctance, I approached the private chamber of the Lord and his Lady. This I knew by the brilliant gold light that shone from beneath a pair of decorated doors. Seeing as it was the only inhabited room in the castle, I knocked on one of the doors and waited for an answer.

There soon came the distinct click of an iron latch, and as the door opened, so too did the warm radiance of firelight outpour. Elizabeth stood there, in that sultry black nightgown, with a cheerful grin that emphasized the deep dimples of her pale cheeks. “Yes, Mr. Codsworth? How may I serve you?”

“If it’s not too much trouble,” I said. “Is there a room where I may prepare a bath?”

“Why, yes of course!” She stepped back and swung wide the door. “You may use ours. Right this way.”

I hesitated a moment, questioning the ethics of intruding upon the private abode of the Lady and her absent husband. It seemed distasteful at best and downright dishonorable at worst. But she bid me welcome into her chamber, and I couldn’t refuse my host’s invitation. At first I was blinded by the roaring flames that danced in the golden fireplace. The space looked nothing like the private quarters of a Lord and Lady—at least, not what I was raised to expect. The oval-shaped room lacked a bed, dresser, and proper nightstands. It was little more than a few decorative chairs and settees, arranged around the fire at the farthest wall, surrounded by a dozen shelves and hundreds of old books that lined the rest.

I dared not pry any further, following her down another short corridor into a lavish stone lavatory—lit only by silver moonlight—with a bath embedded into the floor, something akin to ancient Roman designs. She knelt before a few brass levers and turned one. The pipes creaked as warm liquid rushed through them, and soon several streams of water poured from various taps, filling the embedded tub as steam rolled across the surface of the rapid waves. Heat circulated through the small room, making my brow sweat as I grew hot under the collar. Though much to my curiosity, the Lady of Cainfield Castle was rather unaffected.

“I hope this will suffice?” asked Elizabeth, the paleness of her flesh seemed to glow in the blue hue of moonlight, revealing the delicate curves of her lewd body veiled by that thin black gown.

“Indeed,” I said, attempting to maintain focus on her grimly white eyes, rather than the opulent shape of her hips. “It is perfect. Thank you.

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