Basically I've finished school for the summer, it's midnight and I'm...well bored. I decided to re-write some of my favourite Scottish ghost stories, because no one knows if they are real or not. The names, dates, locations (other than Scotland) have been changed and also some of the plot. Also locations and characters are fictions to fit in the story. The first story I'm going to write is about the monster of Glamis.

Kate's narrative--1821--

There was a sharp cry coming from the countess' chambers. It was expected, it was her fourth child and it had been a difficult pregnancy. There was silence afterwards, apart from the crackling of logs in the fireplace. It must have died, why else would there be an ominous silence. Then the silence was broken, by the midwife, as she gasped something. Then started the awful screaming. It wasn't like a noise I have heard in my life or shall ever forget. The child screamed and screamed, that high pitched cry cut throughout the castle, I dare say it travelled through the grounds and into the black night sky. I sat obediently at the door awaiting my orders.

I had been hired as a nanny for the child and a servant to the countess. She was a fair mistress and a good mother despite her apparent youth. I was double her age, widowed at thirty I had to earn my living and had done so for the last two years. My children had all grown up and been wedded and bedded, giving me many grandchildren. My children married for love or companionship rather than wealth and were spread across the country and it was my eldest son that had got me the job here.

"Get that beast out of here before she sees, she is weak from the birth, she needn't know. Hide it, bury it...burn it father, for it could not bear anything but sin." One of the women inside the chamber said. Her voice was harsh and failed at being quiet. I was shocked, what could possibly have happened in there to want to kill a child? I sat and listened further, twisting the top skirt of my dress nervously. I felt anger rise in my throat, it was a child she wanted to kill and I couldn't stand it. The priest raised his voice in alarm but it was shaking with emotion. The woman pleaded further and the screams grew louder, surely the mother wasn't so weak not to hear this nonsense?

I couldn't stand it a minute longer. I stood up sharply and walked across the small waiting room and entered the countess' chambers. I couldn't belief what I saw, I was stunned. The room was lit with a dull amber glow from the roaring fire, hiding much in the shadows. The pretty countess lay in her bed pale as fresh snow, sweat making her shine in the fire's light. Three of her servants stood huddled at a window position very closely to the bed, they were young pretty things also but they were pale and tearfully, clinging to each other for physical support. The priest stood closely to the fire holding a rather large bundle, the flames licked him and the infant, twisting his kind features into pain ridden ones. The woman was on the floor by his feet, sobbing she was older than me and yet sobbed like a child having a tantrum. I frowned deeply and look from the priest to the woman on the floor. I nodded to the priest to hand of the bundle; he crossed himself as he did so. The bundle is heavy and moves at my touch, I peer though the layers of the bed sheet that was hastily wrapped around the child. I gasp. The child's torso was like a strong barrel, there was no neck, his head grew from his shoulders. His limbs were toy like and crooked and his was covered in a thin fur. It was the most deformed creature I had ever seen, I looked towards the other people in the room then the fire. It seemed to be like hell's fire cursing the child. I rocked the child to comfort him and to comfort myself. I pitied the young girls, I hear tell that deformity makes you infertile or makes you bear deformed children.

"Let me see my child" the countess voice said faintly and weakly. She could barely muster enough strength to look at him never mind get her head around his appearance. The sobbing woman spoke up from the ground.

"Now is not the best time for he is weak as are you. Perhaps you would like to name him so he can be christened?' Her voice was ride of all her previous emotion. The countess waved one of her pale small hands carelessly.

"Henry, Call him Henry Agnes" she said harshly before let sleep take her over.

The child was christened and rushed back into my arms and out of the door. The sobbing woman or Agnes as she was addressed looked at me sympathetically. The moonlight making her face look all the sadder.

"Kate what will you do with the child?" she asked softly. I looked at her curiously; I was going to care for it of course. I told her this and she laughed but not cruelly. She patted my shoulder. "The child will die within days I'd imagine, not by mortal hands though. They never do last long. My advice, wait here as I address the earl on what to do." And she walked off with elegance and grace.

I stood and looked down on the small misplaced face; his eyes were closed now as he slept. What was to become of this creature? Who would feed it? Would someone kill it? It's life no doubt would be short and dull. How could it sleep when it's life was in danger? Poor little Henry would never know the pleasures life could have-should have given him. His three brothers would and no doubt the next child would; but not he.

Agnes returned looking flushed and bothered; she looked like she had ran from there to here.

"Well?" I asked softly rocking the bundle; she threw her hands up and sighed before motioning for me to follow.

" I told him it's health was good and that it was a boy. He was delighted however his face fell when I told him about...it. He said the child was dead to him, emotionally speaking, he told me to take it somewhere it could not corrupt. He told me to take it the room besides the chapel and keep it there." I gasped. The room was only small with only one small window; it was a cell rather than a room. She scoffed at my response. "You are to nurse and raise it. A wet nurse will be brought in also. You are to ell no one of his existence, the child will die in a few days, and the monster will remain up there" she said coldly. I nodded and entered the room. There was a small basic bed under the window so I sat on it, holding the babe close. It seemed I was to be it's only protector, it's only friend. Agnes, I found out, was a capable woman and soon ordered all the things the child would need to the chamber. I had to thank her for that. It seemed she had taken a liking to the creature after all, she even brushed it's forehead with her hand. She left wishing me the best; I had to do my best. This was no spoiled brat that would command me to do stupid tasks , no it was a pitiful creature that needed love, that is to say it should live. So there I sat watching the child in it's fancy crib snoring lightly, I felt unnerved by it's presence but would grow used to it given time.

And so began the strange tale of Henry Grimstead.