Gutenberg Castle Novels & Stories

I was set on being with her, and was not going to back out of this opportunity to sleep with this goddess. "I'm all in." I said. I truly hoped I soon would be. She smiled her devious smile, as if she knew a dark secret she wasn't going to tell me. She pressed a button and the gates to the castle opened. The ancient iron gates were massive, complete with spiked prongs at the tip. There was a weird crest in the middle that I couldn't see clearly in the dark, with two large initials in cursive on the crest: CC. "What's the initials stand for? Family name?" I asked.

Sure enough, the road led directly to Gabriel’s castle that was surrounded by green foliage. Huge, gray edges of a building can be seen looming out of all the greenery, like a titan lurking in the depths of the woods. When the car arrived at the gate to the front lawn of the castle, Cynthia had long widened her eyes in incredulity. Gazing at the castle at a closer range, her eyes widened even more. This man had the ability to own a castle surrounded by greenery near the city center? How much of a fortune does one need to amass before such a thing can be accomplished?

He kept yammering. I kept walking while dealing with a serious case of second hand embarrassment. !! !! !! !! !! !! The castle—and I’m being generous calling it that—sat at the far end of the city like someone dumped a giant slab of stone there and called it a day. No towers. No Charming little flags. No romantic balconies. Nothing grand or royal-looking. Just a massive, gloomy building with way too many windows, all shaped like they were eyes. It didn’t scream royalty. It mumbled something more along the lines of tax evasion and people's curses.

too ancient. "Your majesty," he bowed down. "Everyone has a master..." Darby mumbled under his breath. "Why, yes. Every creative person is a master," responded Agnes. "Is my castle ready, Brahms?" she asked and the servant gave a nod. "I've been waiting for your arrival, your majesty. I know you would come back someday." They took a horse carriage to move to the castle. The castle is more ancient than any bone left in the soil.

“The first letter read: ‘I, Prince Habeb, the Prince of Suramy demand from you, Banabella, whose name I discovered in my dreams. I beg you in the name of your own god, grant me my wish, and avoid being uprooted from the face of the earth.” The second parchment read: “Because you have hidden Banabella in an unidentifiable place, with the intent of deceiving me, I’ll tread upon your bodies and make your kingdom bare like ordinary earth. Till I see Banabella, the people of Muzagah shall not be privileged to take in air into their nostrils before the sun sets tomorrow. Prince Habeb speaks!’

She huffed when he narrowed his eyes but didn't get to comment when he looked up at the home they are about to enter. She stared at the sangria coloured castle that gazed right back at her with it's intimidating eyes. The powder white colour in stripes by the edges making it look less ancient and more of modern home. A clock, a vast one is atop the gates written in roman numerals and looks to be working just fine making her wonder if it has been there for centuries like she's heard most of the things have been in royal homes such as this castle in front of her. It's so gigantic but also complicated in one weird way or the other.

Jenna had the cabdriver drop her off at Gillette Castle, a normal enough destination. The strange looking hilltop castle looked like it had been constructed out of papier-mâché, but was actually made out of thousands of stones gathered from the local hills. It had been built for an eccentric actor early in the twentieth century and was now the centerpiece of a state park whose other main attraction was its spectacular views of the Connecticut River. The vampire caverns were hidden in the forest a mile or so north the park. She would walk the rest of the way.

Well, it did seem like something out of a story, I thought as I looked around me. A castle was imposing itself on us. It looked old, but that didn’t take away from the charm. The entrance was so vast, while the high walls rose proudly. I couldn’t even calculate how many floors it had. The exterior was made of stone, while at the top you could see some species of gargoyles, vigilant. At the door were two guards, who did not even blink when they saw a couple of children and a teenager browsing the place. “What the hell is this?”

“Thanks, Beta. You may now return to… whatever steamy activity you were mid-soap in.” The castle looms ahead—imposing, beautiful, a blend of old stone majesty and sleek modern elegance. Seven floors from what I can see. A massive fountain stands proudly out front, crowned by two carved wolves and a statue of the Moon Goddess. The gardens on either side burst with exotic trees and flowers, some clearly not native. I drive past the main structure and follow a narrow road toward the training arena. It’s massive—open-air, stone-lined, surrounded by bleachers. Real gladiator vibes.

Leon opens the door, and the smell of home reaps across his face, perhaps for the last time. The castle's floor is huge. Pews and tables are now empty. The wooden foundations of the tables are still and stifled from the oak that was used to craft them. Chairs that are lined up on the ends of the crafted surfaces are made from red oak, a sign of importance more than anything else. Then there is the loyal family lodge that looks down upon all the others. The surface itself is made from granite and the chairs are forged the same way as the others, one of impotence. Leon's eyes look upon the family heirloom and dart eyes to one of the empty seats, his place by his father and little brother. His