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Castillo del Diablo by Lisa McCourt Hollar

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Arundel

 

“It’s no good, we’re trapped.” I put my hand on Duardo’s shoulder, pulling him away from the door. He didn’t come willingly and I couldn’t blame him. We had been through so much in the past few days. To have it end this way… well, it wasn’t over yet, but it seemed to be. But there was always prayer. I pulled him over to the hard, wooden bench that was bolted to the wall and sat down, pulling him down next to me.

“Benita, we can’t give up.” He spoke to me like a child. I think he expected me to break down. I loved him, despite his chauvinistic traits.

“I did not say we would give up,” I said. Taking his hands, I folded them together and then did the same with mine. Then I began to pray. Duardo groaned, but didn’t interrupt me. He did not have the same faith as I. When I finished my appeal for mercy, we sat there in silence. It lasted maybe two minutes.

“I can’t take this.” Duardo stood and crossed the room again to bang on the door. Outside, a deep chuckle sounded, our captor, taking amusement at our plight. I stood and joined Duardo. It was the first indication we’d had that someone besides ourselves were in the castle.

“Hello,” I called out, motioning for Duardo to be quiet. I didn’t believe cursing was going to get us anywhere. “We seem to have gotten ourselves locked inside of this cell… somehow.” I laughed, to ease the tension I felt, while Duardo broke into another long string of curses, while he did his best to kick down the door.

“Hijo de puta! Me cago en la madre que te parió!”

“Duardo, please,” I said, pulling on his arm, “try to be nice. I am sure it was just an accident.”

He looked at me, incredulous. “Mierda Benita, you heard the lock turn, same as I did. That pendejo, locked us in her on purpose.”

“Well, we were trespassing,” I said, raising my voice so I could be heard through the door, “maybe he just wanted to teach us a lesson.”  I laughed again, hopeful “Lesson learned.”

The silence that greeted me was deafening. Even though I hadn’t heard our captor move away, I knew we were alone again. I went back to the bench and sat down. I refused to cry. When Duardo put his arm around me, my resolve crumpled and I began to cry.

“It will be okay, mi Corazon. We will get out of here and I will kill that puta madre.”

I knew he was wrong though. We were going to die and it would be my fault. I was the one that had insisted on exploring Castillo del Diablo.

I’m not sure how much time passed. I fell asleep in Duardo’s arms. When I woke, I was stretched out on the bench and Duardo was lying next to me, on the floor. He held my hand though, trying to be my protector, even as he slept. It was dark. Earlier some light had filtered in from a vent located in the ceiling. Despite the terror that still gripped me, I felt calm enough to pray. I had just closed my eyes when I heard the hard click of a lock turning. Then the door opened. There was a light flickering in the hall and as the door swung open I saw a shadowy figure silhouetted in the opening. Duardo’s hand squeezed mine and I knew he was awake and cautioning me to be still.

“I know you are awake,” a deep voice rumbled. “Do not attempt anything.”

Duardo sprang off the floor, throwing himself at our captor. The man knocked Duardo back, sending him through the air as though he were no more than a child.

“Resistance will only bring pain,” he said, coming further into the room. He leered at me and I hate to admit it, but there was something in his gaze that stirred a desire deep inside. He held out his hands to me and spoke, “Come.” Holding my hand out for him to take, I stepped forward, obeying his command.

“Benita!” Ignoring his pain, Duardo charged him again, screaming for me to run. I didn’t, standing there instead and staring at our captor. His eyes held mine and he didn’t even glance at Duardo as he screamed that he was a demon. When Duardo reached him, the man backhanded him, sending him into the wall.

The sickening thud of my love hitting the wall broke my trance. I ran to him, sobbing. Relief flooded over me as I reached him. Duardo was unconscious, but alive. Then I felt arms around me and I was flung over the devil’s shoulders.

I struggled as he carried me through winding passages and up several flights of steps. It did me no good, there would be no escape. When he finally tossed me down, like a sack of potatoes. I looked around, taking in my new surroundings.  My captor had dropped me onto a bed. The yellow gold coverings matched the interior of the room, which was lit by candles. There was also a fire roaring in the fireplace. The room was… cozy.

I stood and went to study a portrait that hung above the mantle. It was off my captor, only he was smiling. A woman stood next to him, a child in her arms.

“Does it meet with your approval?” His voice startled me. In the dungeon his voice had been cold, unfeeling. Now it sounded warm, almost kind. I looked at him, drawn to his eyes. They were dark, but there was a light that flickered within, pulling me deeper into his gaze.

I felt him touch my cheek. “She was my wife. You look so much like her.” Tilting my head, I maintained eye contact with him while he pulled me closer. His breath on my face was not unwelcoming and as he kissed me I felt a familiar rousing inside. He lifted me and carried me to the bed.

Somehow I managed to pull myself away, feebly brushing his fingers from my breast, I turned my head, breaking our connection. He laughed, almost pleasantly, but there was a dark undertone. My heart beat, sensing the threat. “You cannot refuse me,” he said. Taking hold of my chin he turned my head back, attempting to reconnect our bond. I closed my eyes. Staring into his gaze could be harmful.

“Mi Corazon, you wound me. Open your eyes and see all I have to offer.”

“Do not call me that,” I said, opening my eyes. I looked at him, allowing the anger I felt at his usage of Duardo’s pet name for me. He smiled, showing his teeth. Two of them, his canines, looked especially dangerous and I remembered what Duardo had told me about this place, the day he had brought me home to meet his family.

“It is Castillo del Diablo.”

“The devil’s castle?”

“Yes, mi Corazon, or more accurately, the vampire’s castle.”

“Vampiro?” I was intrigued. I wasn’t a silly girl, mesmerized by the idea of glittery vampires, but there was something about the castle that towered over Duardo’s village that enthralled me. “Can we explore it?”

“No, Benita. No one has gone up there since my great grandfather killed the devil and his family. It is a cursed place.”

“Why is it cursed? Your great grandfather killed the vampire years ago. If no one has been there, how do you know it is still cursed?”

“There are animals that come up missing, those that stray to near the castle…”

I laughed. “Duardo, that is just superstition. I thought you were more than that. Didn’t you move away to escape the delusions you were taught, to learn the true ways of the world?”

I had never taunted Duardo before and I could tell my words hurt. They also had the desired effect. Now, staring into the eyes of the vampire, I regretted not listening. I drew away from him, knowing there was nowhere to go.  “What do you want of us?”

He attacked me then, ravishing me on the bed. I fought at first, but then I began to enjoy his touch, helping him find the places that gave me the most pleasure. Duardo was far from my mind as I indulged my new loves body. As I reached the height of my pleasure, I felt his breath on my neck and his teeth breaking the skin. I didn’t resist, giving him all of me. When he finished, I was weakened and near death. My heart barely beat as he lifted me and carried me back to my cell. He tossed me through the door. I had been used and discarded without a second thought.

“Benita!” Duardo pulled me into his arms then yelled, “What have you done to her? ¡Hijo de puta, diablo, te mataré. I will kill you.”

A loud rumble sounded on the other side of the door. “Don’t be so sure. You fancy yourself a vampire killer, like your ancestor? Then kill the vampire you hold in your arms.”

“No!” Duardo turned my head and I felt his fingers examine my neck. “Oh, Benita, mi Corazon.”

“Your great grandfather was a coward. A killer of innocent women and children. Killing a real vampiro isn’t as easy and his lies have been revealed. I am alive, am I not?”

He left us then. Duardo carried me to the bench. As he bent over me I fought against the hunger I felt swelling inside of me. I held my breath, trying not to breathe in the intoxicating scent of his blood.

The vampire’s voice came to me, in my head. You must feed, mi pequeño hijo.

“No.” I pushed Duardo back. “You must kill me.”

“I cannot do that, mi Corazon.”

“Then you will die.”

I tried to fight the hunger. Duardo eventually saw that I was no longer his Benita and looked for a weapon. I was stalking him at this point. I was weak, but my hunger drove me to move.

“My love, don’t you want me?”

He was pressed up against the door. There was nothing in the cell except for the wooden benches. He’d broken one apart, kicking it until his feet were bloody. He held his reward in his hand, a sharpened piece of wood.

“Duardo, come to me.”

He raised the stick. “”Benita, do not, I beg you. I don’t want to kill you.”

I laughed. “Don’t worry, Duardo. That useless stick will do nothing to me.”

“Benita. Mi Corazon, please…”

He raised the stick as I leaped onto him.

A few hours later the prison door opened.

“Come join me, my love.”

I stood and went to join my new husband. As I left the cell I looked back on what remained of Duardo. I had killed my best friend. The sorrow I had felt in the first moments of his death was fading. A new feeling was emerging. Joy. I was no longer bound by human restrictions. And I was hungry.

“Come,” he said, taking my hand. “Morning will be here soon and we must sleep. When we wake, there is a whole village to slake your thirst.”


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