The Haunted Castle Angly Castle was meant to be a tourist attraction for adults. The designers envisioned it to be a place with honest gambling tables, nightly entertainment, and the "Best Little Cathouse on Luna." Since moon rocks lack the aged look that the designers wanted, they had an entire castle disassembled on earth and reassembled inside the Lunar dome. As usual, they spared no expense. It was meant to be the sort of place where frequent travelers might stop: The ones who made it home to their families only about once a year. The freight haulers, the salesmen, and techno wizs on the cutting edge who had to be off delivering, selling, or demonstrating the latest gizmo to the colonies. Those were the intended clientelle. Permanently booked rooms and regular 'requested hostesses' all paid for by company expense accounts was just what the Moon Palace needed to dig its way out of monumental debt. Angly Castle would support the lavish extravagances of the rest of the Moon Palace during the off season. Angly Castle never quite panned out to be the success the designers had envisioned, however. From the very start, whenever the arbitrarily full moon reached a particular position in the sky a phantom woman appeared on the huge marble staircase which spanned the width of the casino at the far wall. The steps of the staircase formed a loose arc sweeping grandly right and left from a center landing with a stone work balustrade. The Phantom Diva, as she was known, strutted the landing spreading her arms and her mouth wide open as she apparently sang a silent aria. She beamed at her audience, curtsied deeply, and gathered her full skirts. Abruptly, she strode to the left and slid down the stone banister. She quickly hopped off the curled ram's horn carved end and ran headlong through the assembled crowd in the casino. (Often running right through one or two of the men. Leaving a severely chilled and shaken patron or two in her wake. You might say their luck just ran cold.) Those who were not stunned and frozen by her passing rushed out to watch as she climbed upon the parapet and held her right hand out as if to allow some object to drop to the crashing surf below. Suddenly, they saw her turn her head to the right as if hearing a noise. Turning herself about further, a look of recognition and then horror was seen to play across her features. The Phantom Diva immediately made an attempt to lower herself as if meaning to scramble down from the parapet. Instead, while bent double, she launched backward into the air, a red stain infusing the midsection of her ghostly gown. The crowd gasped in horror expecting her to plunge to her death. Instead, the colors in the diva's phantom form desaturated and her transluscent shape stretched out, thinned, and merged transparently with the light beaming from the artificial moon. At first, the guests leaned upon each other for support, then they began to chuckle nervously and thought it an entertaining display. Guests would then clap each other on the back or applaud and go back to their gambling tables in a lighthearted and reckless mood. It was great for business. Word got around, and companies had to send their employees to Angly Castle whenever they were scheduled to be anywhere near the Moon. It was that or risk losing those employees to other firms who offered better perks. As months went on, a peculiar thing was noticed, however. Those who had been run through by the phantom diva, were not seen again save for three who were were found dead and washed up on the rocky outcrops below the parapet. Each of the three had been run through with a very slender object. A weapon resembling a fencing sword, was the coroner’s best guess, although, there was something most peculiar about their autopsies. It took about a year before guests realized that the castle held more risks for its patrons than mere wagering and the occasional venereal disease outbreak. The patrons quickly left Angly Castle to it's resident ghost. By virtue of their absence and the entertaining Phantom Diva, it became known as the haunted castle.   --by Linda Gruber