Before Now

It used to be a monastery. Before then, it was an abandoned castle, with tall walls and beautiful designs, in the middle of the forest. Year after year, when the weather was kind, people from far away, trooped to the monastery in pilgrimage. They admired the paintings and prayed with the monks. That was before the arrival of three young and ambitious wizards. Then, witchcraft was practised in secret. Their mission was to seduce the monks and turn the monastery into their coven. Before they set out, they made dresses; long, dark, hooded robes, similar to that of the monks. On the night of their arrival, they casted a killing spell. One by one, the monks fell for it. A wizard's powers came from his blood, and because they were ordinary people, they began to die. The three wizards failed to hold the spell as it had suddenly began to get stronger on its own. However, one of the monks stayed alive. He was a powerful wizard who had fled from home when the hunt and execution of those with magic was at its high. The spell had fueled his blood, kept him alive and made him more powerful. Soon, he found the young wizards and in his fury, killed them, then cut off their upper torsos from the rest of their bodies and hung them on the wall. It was rumoured that the magic kept them from decaying. They just hung there, dripping blood, with flowers growing around them, while plants sprouted on the alter and turned into trees. The wizard, in his hooded robe, stood guard over them. Now, the castle is only a museum and the story is told to keep children away from the treasures. Or is it?

My entry for Foxtales' One Paragraph Flash Fiction Contest

Image is from the original post.