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The great door to Houska Castle was carved with the writhing bodies of demons as they climbed over the damned, pricking them with great pitchforks. In the daytime, Morgan might have smiled at the appeal to tourist dollars by emphasizing the supernatural vibe. But with the bleeding horse galloping endlessly towards the cliff edge behind her, the door had a more sinister quality, a promise perhaps of what lay within.
She pushed against it and the door swung open on silent hinges, revealing a dark corridor stretching inwards.
Morgan pulled her head torch out and the light flared, casting a bright path onwards. She stepped inside to find paintings upon stone walls, plinths for sculptures before them. There was no one inside, no sense that a presence was waiting in the dark, no sound othe
