The Propheteer

An American couple, Frank and Sandy Hill, had saved up a sizeable chunk of money to take their dream vacation and travel around the globe. They gathered up every necessity they could think of and packed it into their luggage, preparing for a long time away from home. Boarding their first plane, they bid their friends goodbye and prepared to go off to see the world.

They passed through Ireland and England, seeing the most beautiful Cathedrals and ancient mounds and henges, dropped down into France and across to Italy, enjoying the foods and wines of the mediterranean and wondering at the countryside. They jogged up through Austria and into Hungary, having the time of their lives and crossed into the outskirts of Romania.

Noting that they were in the vicinity of Transylvania, they decided to drive through simply to be able to say they had been, and so rented a tiny car to make a day trip, jaunting up into the mountains above the villages.

They soon realized that it would have been prudent to take a guide or a taxi, as Frank and Sandy quickly became lost attempting to read the traffic signs, completely oblivious to the many posted warnings of dangerous roads ahead. It seemed that despite having studied the local traffic laws extensively, the rural area into which they had travelled used non-standard signs with simple instructions in Romanian.

Hours dragged on, the Hills becoming more and more lost with each passing moment. The skies became forbidding and it began to rain, making the already treacherous roads deadly indeed – and in fact. Frank lost control of the car and slid off the edge of the road, into a deep crevace, mangling the car beyond repair and grievously injuring the pair.

From high upon the precipice above, a man had been watching the headlights with interest. It was not often that an automobile made the climb towards his abode, and it was with much alarm that he observed the car plunge into its abyss. Frantically, he called for his manservant and sent him out into the teeth of the storm to see if there was anything that could be done – and, if the passengers were injured, to bring them back to the castle for treatment.

Alas, when the servant arrived at the scene of the accident, it was a grisly scene. Neither passenger was without injury, and removing them from the car only worsened their wounds. Leaving them where the were, however, would likely have meant their immediate demise, as the crevace was quickly filling with water.
As quickly as possible, they were brought to the castle and given over into the care of its resident, a doctor and surgeon of no mean skill. Dr. Stefanescu rushed his patients to his offices where he worked tirelessly into the night, attempting every means at his disposal to bring the helpless people back from the brink of death.

His work, however, was futile, and despite his most heroic efforts they expired upon his tables early upon the morning. Aggrievedly, he searched their persons for identification and resolved himself that he would have to contact their next of kin. It pained him to see them so, and he fled from the room.

Distraught with the pain of losing not one, but two lives in the night, he sought to console himself by playing upon the magnificent pipe organ that was constructed into the very walls of the fortress itself, and thus lose himself in the music. His manservant understood this mood well and went down into his master’s offices to clean up after the night’s labors.

But before he had got very far, a peculiar thing began to happen. With every swell of the music, Frank and Sandy began to twitch, began to rise, began to sit up and move in time to the strains of the organ. It was entirely too much for a servant to take. Bursting forth from the operating room, he ran screaming to his master, wailing and shrieking.

“Master!” he cried, “Master! You must come at once! The Hills are alive with the sound of music!”

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