The old woman opened the door, groaning with exhaustion. She had been cleaning out the castle all day, and now she had to find her keys if she wanted to get in before sunset.
A gust of damp Scottish air blew through the creaky door and struck her warmly, like an old friend. She found her keys, wedged in the door, and pulled them out. It was getting darker, so she worked quicker, fumbling with the heavy keys. Her fingers stabbed at the keyhole, trying to get the right one in.
As she worked, she had to keep pushing away thick cobwebs. Most of the keys were covered in large patches of thick cobwebs, making it difficult to see which keyhole they went to. It was getting quite dark now; the sun was just a sliver on the horizon. The air carried an earthy smell mixed in with a hint of sea-spray from the ocean, which was a few miles away.
Finally, she jimmied the correct key in. She pushed the creaking door open, and the mustiness of the castle met her. The forest had been cut away from the castle for many years, but the trees had grown back, reaching towards the castle with dark branches and tall trunks. The mansion was set high upon the hill, with thick walls of stone and thick, cobweb-covered stone floors.
She sighed with relief as she closed the door shut behind her. A soft drop of rain hit her nose and she looked up at the darkening sky. She was glad to be inside, since the rain was going to start soon. She started up the castle's ancient wooden staircase, going up to her small bedroom, which was in the oldest part of the castle, where the walls had been built of stone, rather than a more traditional wood. It was the original room, before the family had moved up to the more modern part of the castle.
She went upstairs, walking slowly, as if she didn't want to leave the castle. She wasn't very old, but she was already feeling that this castle was her home. She had slept in it every night for almost a year, since she had been cleaning it out every day after work. She had camped out here in the summers when she was younger, which wasn't very long ago, but she suddenly felt all of the trail mix and cold pizza she had stuffed into herself all those years ago coming back to her, talking to her in her mind, telling her to slow down.
As she walked through the halls, she knew that there were many rooms that she still hadn't been through. She passed all of the rooms that she had cleaned out yet, and saw a few rooms that were still littered with treasures, including a few that were sealed in glass cases. She saw one of the rooms some time ago that was still full of junk, a treasure trove wrapped in a thick layer of dust and cobwebs. She had thought about exploring it, but she wasn't sure if she could find her way out if she did.
She finally reached the top of the stairs. She pulled the silver key from the ring on her apron and unlocked the final door. As she turned the handle of the door, she felt like she was about to enter the Bermuda Triangle of her life.
The door creaked as it opened. She walked into the room, only to see a wall of books. The room was small, only being about twenty five by twenty five. But the space simply wasn't enough to contain all the books that she had found so far. There were books that were hundreds of years old, crumbling and tattered, yet still in pristine condition. There were big books full of pictures, postcards, and maps of old towns and castles. There were books with handwritten notes in them. There were books, some big and some small, that were just collections of writing.
She reeled, gawking in stupefaction. She hoped that the books would be a lead to discover the castle's history. The family that had lived here had never said anything about its history, so she didn't know how long ago it had been built.
She started looking through the books piled on the shelf, trying to find one that was more recent, where someone had lived here. It was almost like a mini-library, with the books of all different kinds. She pored over them for a few hours, hoping to find one with a name written on the flyleaf, or some more recent newspapers and magazines with dates she could figure out how old the building was from. She needed something to start from, if she was going to continue cleaning out the castle.
She banged a nail on a desk, looking for any dates. She had just gotten the schedule clear: She would clean out a single room in the castle every day, and she would do it after work, on the weekends, and whenever she could fit it in. She had cleaned out most of the rooms so far. There were still a few rooms that she didn't have time to look through, either because she couldn't get there, or because she was too scared.
Of course, she was sure that there were ghosts residing in the castle, but so far she hadn't run into any. She had never talked to anyone who had seen a Scottish castle ghost. Of course, she had read some books about the paranormal, so she didn't discount the possibility. She just didn't want to deal with ghosts, if there were any.
As she searched the books, she was acutely aware of any noises. She had tried the video camera a few rooms back, but it had just overloaded with flickering static, which scared her so bad that she threw it out the window, which was unfortunately on the other side of the castle from her room.
