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Hello! This here is my entry for the first round for the
League of story tellers
Competition. 

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As the theme was haunted houses I decided to put my own twist on it, rather than simply sticking to your traditional horror story.
Enjoy!

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Sir Marmaducus, Knight of the Alkazaarian Order stood now before the malicious mage Isembard. He had travelled many days and nights, faced countless hardships and slain many foes to reach the necromancer. At last their showdown was ahead.  Yet the warrior’s energy was low, his journey had taken quite the toll on him, while his opponent was in perfect form. This duel could end only one way. “Welcome Sir Knight. Are you feeling quite well? You look… tired” the spellcaster taunted him. “Alas, I have no time for you today. Why don’t you come back in a few centuries!” This sentence was accompanied by the distinctive laughter of a mad man. A light engulfed Marmaducus before he had the opportunity to reply.


So it came to pass that our hero awoke in a dimly lit… Well, it appeared to be a hallway of some form, though created of some material he had never seen. It felt smooth and cold. At the end of the passage was a brighter glow, though no clear source from which it could be emanating. Something about it sent shivers down the courageous Knight’s spine. It seemed… ethereal somehow, as though being cast there by some form of spirit. Against his better judgement the templar took a slow, fearful step towards the glare. As he grew closer to the doorframe, through which the seeming spectre could be seen it flickered and disappeared, faster than he had deemed possible. No sweeping aside, no fading away, it was like extinguishing a candle.


Deciding to investigate, our hero continued on his route, refusing to allow such a thing to scare him. Around him were strange, unfamiliar sounds, like the howling of lost souls, a low, almost inaudible hum, yet clearly there. As he passed through into the hallway, a cold breeze blew down his spine, chilling him. Yet the only thing there was a small grate of some form, attached to the ceiling. Growing ever more fearful the night walked onwards. The passageway was completely empty and the ghostly light nowhere to be seen. Now where was Marmaducus to go? Left and right both seemed equally bland, the walls a simple white colour, purer than any white he had seen, like the soul of a fair maiden. Before him was a signpost, yet the words upon it made no sense to him. The letter resembled English, yet weren’t quite the same. Unable to make out the nonsensical words, he opted to take the turn to his right. Slowly edging his way along he took several more turns, when suddenly the passage he was in illuminated. A glaring light, brighter than the sun surrounded him, and down the hall strode a figure in a long, white gown. She appeared to have touched the wall, thus causing the lighting, yet how? A ghost? No… surely not! They didn’t, couldn’t exist. Yet as the figure came ever closer  the knights courage drained ever more, until she stood before him. Her skin was pale, and sickly looking and the woman appeared frail. It could only be a departed spirit. Fear taking over his heart, Marmaducus collapsed to the floor.


The doctors in St. Pauls hospital stood around the form on the floor. A man, dressed in shining, medieval  armour lay there. An elderly patient who had been admitted recently had discovered him quaking in the hallway the previous night, claiming he had collapsed at the sight of here. There was nothing they could do to help him, no he needed the mental ward.

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I hope you think this came out ok. I was somewhat limited by the 600 word limit, so my story contains 590 words. I feel without the word limit and a theme more fitting to me it would have gone better, but I had fun and that's what counts.
Think this should win against Pikamoar, or want to see his entry? click here!