slept on cots inside the massive nightclub, several of the men were still completing some last-minute work on the outside floodlights that would highlight the scarred cliff face the castle was pressed into. Two of these men walked silently to the patio stairs and hopped over the old-fashioned wooden railing that was actually tube steel and made their way out of the glare of the floodlights. One of the men pulled out a small bottle.
“Here, this ought to help you sleep tonight.”
The second man accepted the bottle and, tilting his hat back on his head, turned up the container of fiery liquid. The Romanian equivalent of American moonshine called Ţ uic ă burned its way down the small man’s throat. He held the bottle up until the second, much heavier man pulled it away.
“I said help you sleep not put you in a coma,” his friend hissed as he wiped his dirty sleeve over the mouth of the bottle and then capped it. He looked around at the ancient rock face. “This wouldn’t be the place to be if half that mountain decided to come down on top of this damned monstrosity.”
“Landslides and avalanches in the winter aren’t the real danger here and you know that. As beautiful as this place is, the valley below, the pass above, even the villages scattered throughout both mountain and valley can’t hide the fact that something is wrong here.”
“Ah, it’s just rumors and old wives’ tales the old-timers inside told you about that’s got you going. Stop staying up late listening to those old beards and you’ll find sleeping may come a little easier. Now,” the man burped and then slapped the smaller man on the back, “we better get back up there before they cut the power to the lights.”
The two electricians looked at the deep shadows cast by the lighting hitting the crags and deep scars in the face of the small mountain, and at that moment you could understand the tension the workers at the makeshift construction site felt when the old stories were repeated. Even the old Hollywood films from Universal Studios were brought up and why those old films had always turned their nation’s legends into running jokes. The old-timers said the entire world had always underestimated the tales coming out of Romania and that the world most definitely had it wrong about this area of the Carpathians.
As they started to make their way up the small incline of loose rock to the railing above to pull themselves back onto the outdoor patio they both heard the sound of falling rubble from above them in the darkness of the mountain. It wasn’t a large slide, but enough that it echoed in the crags and minute valleys of stone above their heads.
“Maybe it’s a few more of the men leaving in the middle of the night—it’s always on this shift that they quit and make their way down to civilization.”
The younger man was clearly frightened and just hoped that was the case. His friend knew just like everyone else that indeed several of the night shift work detail had quit and moved on, with several leaving their small bags, backpacks, and a suitcase or two—one even left some very expensive tools behind in his haste to leave the mountain and the hard conditions working inside the castle.
As the large electrician reached the rail a few feet above his head, the floodlights illuminating the mountainside went completely out.
“Damn it!” hissed the man as his hand missed the rail on his first attempt. “We’ll be lucky if we don’t break our necks out here.”
“Hurry up, it’s not that dark, I can see your hand, it’s only—”
Suddenly a shape that was just a blacker spot on the black night shot out from the patio deck and grasped the large man by the wrist, snapping it in five places. Then to the horror of the second electrician the man was pulled straight up and over the railing of the darkened patio. The action only took three seconds and not a sound was made outside of the snapping of bone and the sharp intake of
“Here, this ought to help you sleep tonight.”
The second man accepted the bottle and, tilting his hat back on his head, turned up the container of fiery liquid. The Romanian equivalent of American moonshine called Ţ uic ă burned its way down the small man’s throat. He held the bottle up until the second, much heavier man pulled it away.
“I said help you sleep not put you in a coma,” his friend hissed as he wiped his dirty sleeve over the mouth of the bottle and then capped it. He looked around at the ancient rock face. “This wouldn’t be the place to be if half that mountain decided to come down on top of this damned monstrosity.”
“Landslides and avalanches in the winter aren’t the real danger here and you know that. As beautiful as this place is, the valley below, the pass above, even the villages scattered throughout both mountain and valley can’t hide the fact that something is wrong here.”
“Ah, it’s just rumors and old wives’ tales the old-timers inside told you about that’s got you going. Stop staying up late listening to those old beards and you’ll find sleeping may come a little easier. Now,” the man burped and then slapped the smaller man on the back, “we better get back up there before they cut the power to the lights.”
The two electricians looked at the deep shadows cast by the lighting hitting the crags and deep scars in the face of the small mountain, and at that moment you could understand the tension the workers at the makeshift construction site felt when the old stories were repeated. Even the old Hollywood films from Universal Studios were brought up and why those old films had always turned their nation’s legends into running jokes. The old-timers said the entire world had always underestimated the tales coming out of Romania and that the world most definitely had it wrong about this area of the Carpathians.
As they started to make their way up the small incline of loose rock to the railing above to pull themselves back onto the outdoor patio they both heard the sound of falling rubble from above them in the darkness of the mountain. It wasn’t a large slide, but enough that it echoed in the crags and minute valleys of stone above their heads.
“Maybe it’s a few more of the men leaving in the middle of the night—it’s always on this shift that they quit and make their way down to civilization.”
The younger man was clearly frightened and just hoped that was the case. His friend knew just like everyone else that indeed several of the night shift work detail had quit and moved on, with several leaving their small bags, backpacks, and a suitcase or two—one even left some very expensive tools behind in his haste to leave the mountain and the hard conditions working inside the castle.
As the large electrician reached the rail a few feet above his head, the floodlights illuminating the mountainside went completely out.
“Damn it!” hissed the man as his hand missed the rail on his first attempt. “We’ll be lucky if we don’t break our necks out here.”
“Hurry up, it’s not that dark, I can see your hand, it’s only—”
Suddenly a shape that was just a blacker spot on the black night shot out from the patio deck and grasped the large man by the wrist, snapping it in five places. Then to the horror of the second electrician the man was pulled straight up and over the railing of the darkened patio. The action only took three seconds and not a sound was made outside of the snapping of bone and the sharp intake of
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