I spent several months of 2010 researching and writing about a castle in Scotland. The castle itself was fictional, cobbled together from multiple visits into Scotland, brochures and obsessive Googling of haunted castles. But it came alive for me on the page, as did its secrets. My castle, you see, was haunted.
In the way of all haunted castles, there are multiple tales, legends, sightings, and horror stories that accompany the structure. In a country whose history is so bloody, it’s fitting to have remnants and echoes of those battles seep onto the page, whether between hundreds on Culloden Moor, or simply one on one, when bared, softly-skinned throats are slit in silent, stone-walled bedrooms.
Are the legends true? Are the castle ghosts of Scotland real? All I know for sure is I would sprinkle salt across my threshold and along my windowsills before I’d spend a night alone in Dulsie Castle. They say there is a gray lady who lurks in the attics. Her name is Lamia. The questions is, who, exactly, is she? And what does she want with you?
I’ll never tell. . . .