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Castle Island

Tags: urban, legend

'Hey, you're home early,' speaks Pedro as he greets his beautiful fiancée with a brief kiss on the lips as she returns home.

'Yeah, got a half-day I wasn't expecting,' speaks Monica with a smile. 'You wouldn't happen to know anything about that, now would you?'

'What? Who me? Nah ... not at all, c'mon, let's go?'

'Go? Where? ... I only just got in.'

'Don't worry about that. Bags are packed, and we're ready to roll.'

'Roll where? You know we still have so much to organize, only sixteen days to go, you haven't forgotten, have you?'

'Of course not, my dear, and this is why I have a little surprise for you.'

'Pedro ... I know you mean well, but we can't afford the time to take a little surprise. There is way too much still to sort out.'

'Like I said, don't worry. Our moms and your sister have things well in hand. They can handle a couple of days without us.'

'Couple of days? Pedro, we ... we ...'

'We have our phones too; if they need anything, we are just a quick call away.'

'Alright, you got me. So where are we going?'

'It wouldn't be a surprise if I told you, now would it?'

It may only be a three-hour drive and a ninety-minute ferry trip away, so it is quite surprising that Monica never previously found the time to go visit a place known as Castle Island. It is somewhere she had longed to visit ever since she first heard the stories as a young girl. For Castle Island is no ordinary place. It is one filled with wonder and mystery.

Monica had, as a child, heard the pleasant versions of the White Lady stories. It was only as she got older, a fair bit older, that she would discover the darker side of those stories. Maybe it was these darker stories that prevented her to visit Castle Island though those exact reasons are maybe even a mystery to her with why a trip has been put off, for surely those stories were not and are not real.

Now, ready or not, Monica was on her way to Castle Island. Not only would she come closer to those White Lady stories, but she would also become one of them too and a big part of one at that. There would be nothing pleasant, of course, trust Monica to find darkness, intentionally or otherwise. What Monica and Pedro were heading towards was something much, much darker than any passed-down story could be, so much so that it would put a lot more than just their wedding in jeopardy.

Having yet to disclose the destination of the brief trip away, Pedro took charge of the driving. Despite the lack of information, it didn’t take long for Monica to hazard a correct guess, exactly as to where she was on her way to, and almost as soon as the journey began, a quiet hush came over her.

The afternoon was a bright and warm one with a medium strength cool breeze flowing, and Monica enjoyed that breeze while having the passenger side window wound all the way down. That breeze caught her long dark brown hair and aided the arrival of a moment of being able to lose herself to a daydream. She was so lost in her daydream that the car journey came to pass, and it most definitely did not feel like a three-hour trip.

It may be a strange thing to suggest though, as the ferry made its way to the island, it would feel as if the waters could sense something. The waters may be carrying something or someone to where he or she may truly belong. It may also be down to the fact that a wedding was in the works or maybe down to the upcoming destination and all that surrounds it or even down to something else, but Monica could not help herself, she just had to wear a white dress, and she just had to head out onto the deck and watch those very waters she travelled upon.

Despite how nice the weather had been up to this point, the waters were beginning to change, becoming not quite so nice or so calm. If anything, it could be said that they were indeed more than just a little rough. This did not deter Monica from wanting to stand right at the rails, no matter how uneasy it made Pedro feel. The ninety-minute ferry journey to him felt a fair bit longer than what it actually was.

Any and all regret Pedro may have felt upon the ferry for having made the decision to make this trip vanished completely once land had been reached, for him and his beautiful wife to be had indeed arrived at Castle Island. The waters had made him ill to the point he could almost feel the darkness within, and it was nauseous. Land, land is safe, right? He is here now too, so seasickness, if that was what it was, should pass.

Castle Island, named such for the massively huge castle that rests upon it. It is hundreds of years old. Specific areas have been kept preserved, including some of the tall stone walls and the large dark underground dungeons. The castle itself has become a tourist attraction and has long since been converted into a hotel where its guest can get a full sense as to what it may have been like to live within it many years earlier.

Monica may have heard some of the stories, and she may have known of the place for quite some time, but once they're on the island, she feels as if she has … arrived. It was more than that. It was as if she has returned to somewhere she has never been. She felt strangely at home. There is most definitely a sense of belonging, a sense of coming home.

Having only stepped a few feet onto the island, Monica stops moving. Having moved a bit further on, Pedro takes notice that Monica is indeed behind him and is not moving. She is as still as still can be as if she is caught in some kind of trance-like state.

'Everything alright?' Pedro enquires while moving to her side.

She remains in her trance for another second or two, then moves her head to look at Pedro.

'Everything is great,' she says as a smile takes hold of her face.

Upon signing into the hotel, the couple is or were informed of a tour of the castle ground due to take place shortly and as guests and if they like liked, they could be added to it. This appealed to them both, so they decided then and there that they would indeed join said tour.

Pedro and Monica got to their room, freshened up, and changed clothes before going down to the castle restaurant for a bite to eat before going on to join the tour at its starting point. Being compelled to do so, Monica wore a second white dress she so happened to have with her. The tour guide commented on how ironic it was that she chose such a gown due to the urban legend, more so the specific version of the legend associated with the castle.

The legend has it that a young family complete with two children came to stay at the castle an exceptionally long time ago. They had been going through a rough period and decided a family break away would do them good, however during the first night of their stay, the father suffered a complete mental breakdown, something which had been coming for some time. He took the two children up out of their beds and out way up onto the cliffs not all too far away from the castle. Out on those cliffs is where he ended their lives before making a return to the castle where he killed his wife before taking his own life.

The wife and mother of this family had worn a white dress at the time of her death, and it is said that her soul, her spirit, her ghost have been searching the island for her two lost children each and every night since the night of her murder. It is also said that she has anger towards all men, as it had been her husband that took her life as well as the lives of her children.

'Ooh … spooky,' Pedro said, wiggling his fingers in Monica's direction upon hearing the scary tale.

'Stop it,' replied Monica, lovingly punching Pedro in the shoulder.

'Ouch, that hurt.'

Monica smiled as Pedro grabbed his left shoulder with his right hand. She had such a beautiful smile that Pedro couldn't help feeling how lucky he was to have her. Anything ill or wrong he had felt earlier sure was gone in this moment.

The recent weeks up to the first day of the Castle Island break had taken its toll somewhat on Monica. She had most certainly been worn down. This break really was needed, so deciding upon having herself an early night to catch up with herself as she put it, was an easy choice to make.

Pedro wasn't quite ready to do the same. Yeah, he had been kept busy too in recent weeks, but sleep and rest are not what he came out here for, so he stayed up and had himself a moonlit stroll. After an hour or two, a fog began to fall quite quickly, so Pedro returned to his princess, who was out cold in bed. He lay on the bed next to her, put his hand on her shoulder, whispering into her ear, 'honey, I think I seen her.'

'That is nice baby,' replied a half-sleeping Monica before she continued, 'seen who?'

'The lady, the lady in white, from that story we were told earlier.'

Monica's eyes hadn't opened during this particularly short conversation. She was far too tired. 'That is nice dear,' she said before plunging back into a deep sleep.

When Monica eventually did open her eyes, it took her a moment or two to realize that no only had morning come and that she was alone but … she was covered in blood, and when she did realize this, she screamed and screamed so much that the door to her room had to be broken into by staff at the castle. Police and paramedics were called. Things eventually calmed, and Monica was given the once over. She was fine.

The blood that covered her was not her own. It later was revealed that the blood was the blood of her fiancée, and he was nowhere to be found. Monica had no memory of any event that could have left her covered in Pedro's blood. As it was, she had a vague recollection of talking to him when he had returned to the room. And he had returned to the room, hadn’t he?

Pedro's body was not found that day. It has not been found in the time which since has come to pass. Castle staff have their own opinions as to what may have happened. While most agree that it was the lady in white seeking vengeance that caused Pedro's death, if indeed he is dead, some think that Monica was possessed by the spirit of the lady due to a resemblance they have with one another, while others believed that Monica herself had cracked mentally and the story of the lady in white gave her the incentive and cover for an attack.

But if Pedro was killed, where was his body? And even if he is not dead, the question is, where is he? Monica did not know this trip was coming, so surely she could not have planned anything. Maybe Pedro himself was not ready for marriage and simply or not so simply organized his own disappearance but surely not. All their friends, however, were convinced that Pedro loved Monica more than he loved life itself, and that is why the trip to the castle happened. There was so much blood that night, though; he surely has not survived whatever may have come his way.

Monica would be taken so by the events on Castle Island that she would spend the rest of her days in an asylum-like hospital, often staring at nothing with a far-away gaze in her eyes whispering incoherently to herself. Sometimes she is convinced she is talking to Pedro, especially on nights where a fog has fallen outside.

She had played with the thoughts of whether or not he had actually been in the room at the time she thought she had last spoken to him, for she was so tired at the time that she couldn't be sure that he was. He must have been for so much of his blood to have been there too.

Maybe someone else was in the room that evening; maybe Monica or Pedro, either or both, always belonged to the island, and what was to be, was always meant to be. The thing is, Monica had not packed the accompanied luggage, so just how did it come to be she had two white dresses with her?



This story is protected by International Copyright Law, by the author, all rights reserved. If found posted anywhere other than with this note attached, it has been posted without my permission.

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