W B Baker MBE

The Fall of Tartraven W B Baker MBE

Over the centuries, Tartraven Castle had become imbued with the sorrow of countless human tragedies, each dissipating their collective sorrow upon the gnarled and knotted limbs that hung motionless amid forlorn mausoleums of forest green. Centuries of bleak, windy nights filled with evil spells, enchanted creatures, and misshapen horrors are to the civilized simply mythslegends and harmless fairy tales. Sensible people are never truly terrified of fiends lurking in the darkness as one bravely stares intently into the black, encroaching night . . . Not until, one ill-fated evening, when one inadvertently glimpses the telltale glow of their eyes intently staring back.