Anton! This is Disneyland!” There was no limit to my joy. It was a nursery of stunning beauty… in Gothic style. The interior was a light shade which was unusual for the premises of that time. The ceilings were wooden; the chandelier was iron, as always. However, the wood was a light shade; and, unlike other rooms, the walls here were wood upon which all sorts of medieval subjects were carved. The lancet windows were decorated with mosaics arranged in images from the Holy Scriptures. However, this lovely room was not without its eerie strangeness: there was a thin, barely noticeable mist on the floor… in the room… in a residential building! I lost count when I tried to figure out how many times I had experienced shock that day.
“Do you see it, too?” I asked my husband who was standing on the threshold.
“Fog! What the hell?”
All this began to strain Anton very much.
“Look… it seeps from the ceiling,” my husband said.
He pointed to a hole above the window. Barely visible, a trickle of fog really flowed from there.
“I hope there are no traps on the floor… like snakes!” “Come on, be careful here,” I cautioned.
To say that I was scared is not to say anything.
“Let’s see what kind of strange closet this is in here,” I suggested. “By the way, where is the bed for the child here?”
In place of a bed, there was some kind of huge closet with shutters… a strange structure! I came closer and, opening the doors, I was very surprised to find a high bed hidden in the closet! It had a magnificent feather mattress… of course, dilapidated. In addition, colorful, corduroy pillows brightened the area.
The inside of the room was painted with all sorts of knights and buffoons… very colorful. Opposite, as always, there was a large fireplace at the other end of the room.
“Amazing,” I started. “I think this bed was made to make the baby warmer in the winter.” My maternal instinct suddenly woke up in me.
“Yes, it’s interesting,” Anton responded.
For the first time my husband called antiques “interesting.” This was a sure sign that even he stopped getting bored here… albeit it was creepy.
To the left and right of the fireplace were cute, painted, wooden wardrobes. A bunch of toys lay in them… some made of wood, others of fabric. There was a wooden horse on the floor. A small cradle rested next to it, in which there was a doll made of cloth stuffed with something. “My Anna” was stamped on the crib. I must say the room was very nice, but it felt like no one really lived here… just once a pompous renovation was done here.
While we were looking around the fabulous nursery, I constantly heard some strange sounds from above.
“Do you hear that?” I decided to ask my husband. “Yes, the sound of a drip upstairs.” Anton listened more intently.
“Where would the water come from?” I asked.
“The sounds are from the roof. I wonder if there’s something weirder than that laughing gas from the ceiling?” my husband tried to joke.
“Devil’s music,” I said as I remembered the notes of the blonde girl.
We listened and distinctly heard streams and drops pouring from somewhere.
“She dripped so loudly in this ancient nursery, as if she wanted to say something.” Now it’s clear why the girl described these sounds like that.
It’s strange what kind of plumbing is on the roof, considering that we haven’t seen anything like civilization in this tower. I shivered.
“Come on!” I commanded.
We tried to climb onto the roof, but these were wooden floors and in terrible condition.
“Nora, you see it’s dangerous here.” Anton always protected me.
“Okay, go first.” There was no way to stop me.
“Very funny,” he smirked.
We went to the roof, slowly jumped over the beams in the floor, and suddenly came across an iron door. It was a bit open. I went in first.
“My God!” I blurted out.
It couldn’t be seen from the street, but there was a statue of an angel with a jug in her hands from which a trickle of water really flowed out. Steam concentrated in the pool as fog, which evidently was what scared us in the girl’s room. It came from this water.
There was a stone bench around the fountain pool… that is, initially it was one. An angel stood on a raised platform in the circular pool. The small pool resembled a cup, the edges of which were made in the form of a bench.
The windows in the room were glass, painted with medieval subjects. Under the windows were niches in the medieval style of stone, where flowers in pots grew… most of which had wilted.
It was evident the countess left the flowers to wither, but many of them survived because there was condensation on their leaves! Amazing, that the evaporation of water saved them! They drank through their leaves. “Wow! Why make a fountain here? I’ve never seen anything like it!” I was impressed.
“Yes, this is the strangest castle I’ve seen lately.” Anton was no less shocked. “But where did this fog come from? How is this even possible, given the laws of physics? I do not understand.”
“And why did the owners plant flowers here… to then leave them?” I continued my husband’s reasoning.
“I don’t understand anything. So, the owners still lived here for a while, after which they closed the tower,” Anton thought out loud.
“We have to ask the count about it.”
“Don’t even think about it! I’ll have to tell him how we got here!”
My husband was getting angry. I didn’t waste time arguing because evening was approaching, and I wanted to take a closer look at the “attic.”
The frescoed windows around the outer wall of the room overlooked the outer wall of the castle just beyond the circular corridor surrounding this center room. The corridor had a floor of rotten planks. From the outer wall of the corridor was a stunning view: well-groomed and beautiful fields, hills, and a village. The room in the center was dark since sunlight hardly penetrated it. The ancient frescoes on the windows prevented the sun’s rays from illuminating the room.
I went behind the fountain where the wall was covered with blooming ivy. Looking closer, I saw another iron door. I knew it could possibly lead to the space with a rotten floor. However, it presumably could also lead to the roof with battlements, which we saw from the courtyard. I began to pull on the door. It was impossible to open.
“What’s in here?” I said to myself.
“This is the exit to the roof,” my husband explained, apparently immured because the roof was in such disrepair!
“It’s a pity. It would be interesting to see what is there,” I complained. I was upset.
“Honey, let’s get out of here. It’s late,” Anton urged.
“Let’s go to the first tower. We have to look around the whole castle to understand anything.” I wanted to solve the mystery of these rooms by all means.
Anton responded, “But there are the hosts and guests nearby… and what if there’s really nothing to see?” My husband was not happy with my curiosity.
“We’ll sneak in quietly; they won’t even notice! We are welcome to do that. I feel like I have to snoop around. They said there was nothing to see in the fourth tower.
But you saw with your own eyes that