Page 1 of Chillingham Castle

Prologue.

Evie Dyer

Chillingham appeared quiet this evening, which put me on edge. It was never truly silent; the wood creaked, the wind blew, and the heating settled. Then there was the multitude of ghosts; one was always playing up, making sure we’d not forgotten them.

I didn’t even sense them tonight.

I paused at a window on the twisting staircase and stared down at the land below me. The park stretched out as mist appeared. Sometimes we’d see spirits walking out there, but it was empty now.

My hands rubbed at my upper arms as I shivered. Something was terribly wrong, and I was unsure what.

I continued walking down the twisting stairs and into the great hall. This was one of my favourite rooms with its high ceiling, stone walls and floor. The long table lay ready for guests, the armaments on the walls a testament to Chillingham’s bloody history. Heavy, velvet red curtains framed a window as foreboding hit me.

The pikes in their rack remained still; the light was steady and unmoving, but the hall felt as if it were waiting.

As I paused in the doorway between the staircase and the hall, I heard a faint rustle. I looked left and saw the huge tapestry move. I jumped away because there was no breeze in here to make that move. Thirty years I’d worked here, making my way up to manager, and I was familiar with all the spirits. Not once had that huge work of art moved until now.

Had someone decided to change up their haunting? If so, why after all this time? I heard a clank, and my head turned to the armour at the other end. On a plinth sat a horse in full armour and a rider perched on top. Beside it stood a suit of armour, and above that a chain-mail tunic. The hair on the back of my neck rose as goosebumps broke out.

A plink caused me to move towards the middle of the room, near the great doors.

I peered at the window covered with red curtains. The piano sat quietly there, almost taunting me.

One of the candelabras began swaying.

It grew more violent, swinging backwards and forwards until I feared the chain might break. Then it stopped.

A chill wind ran through the Great Hall, and I shuddered and pulled my cardigan tighter. A booming laugh made me stagger back, and I stared at the black shape forming by the large stone fireplace.

I rushed past, giving the doors a shove, but they wouldn’t budge.

A hand reached for me, and I dashed to the end of the hall and shoved open the door that led to the chapel. I burst into it as I heard heavy footsteps. I fled down the stairs to the tearooms and out of the fire exit.

Dread raced up my spine as alarms blared, and I glanced back over my shoulder. The doorway I’d escaped through was empty. But as I moved to the perron of steps, I flinched. A black shape stood in front of the two solid wooden doors. It pointed at me as lights came on in the wing behind me.

Horrified and trembling, I stared at the image of evil incarnate. What had Chillingham given birth to now?

Chapter One.

Jack

I settled back as Haunt drove us through the winding country roads. It was early morning, and we were arriving in Northumberland, a beautiful but harsh county. Sat Nav spewed instructions at him as I kept watching for my first sign of the legendary Chillingham Castle. It held several titles, but the one proclaiming it the ‘Most Haunted Castle in England’ interested me. Many boasted like that, but Chillingham actually appeared to be the real deal. Over a hundred spirits were rumoured to haunt it. Some more famous than most.

“Why are we here?” I asked Reaver, who handed me a coffee as he sat down at the table opposite me.

“The owners called us in. They’re used to the ghosts there, as are most of the staff, but a fortnight ago, their event manager was chased out of the building. Evie Dyer has worked there for thirty years; she started when she was sixteen. She set off security alarms as she did, and the owner saw Evie standing outside, shaking.

“When they went to ask what had occurred, Evie was terrified and refused to go back inside. She explained that a black shadow man had tried to attack her and had chased her from the Great Hall. They have a rather nasty entity there already, so they thought it was him. But then, several nights later, the same thing happened to a second employee. This time a family member saw it from their bedroom window.”

“It could be this other spirit growing stronger, or maybe someone agitated another ghost,” I suggested.

Reaver nodded. “We’ll have to wait. Look, there’s Chillingham.”

I turned and almost gaped.

Of course, I knew England had castles and was full of history, but I’d not seen anything like this before. This morning was foggy, and out of the fog came a sturdy wall, and then I saw the castle taking shape. I wasn’t one for fanciful thinking, but if something should be haunted, it would be Chillingham Castle. First, a tall, imposing tower appeared, followed by a wing and then another tower.

It rose three floors high, with a smaller wing extending from its left side. A flag flew above each tower, and I saw the carved coat of arms between the second- and third-floor windows. The entire front façade was striking, meant to impress and succeeded.