Hamlet: a novelization
Hamlet written in novel form, in a modern day setting. Based partially on the RSC film of Hamlet.
Disclaimer: Besides the writing, virtually nothing in this story is my intellectual property; characters, plot and settings belong to Shakespeare and the excellent film by RSC. No copyright infringements intended, no personal wealth gained.
NB: This is mostly a writing excercise, updates will be slow
It was a dark night. Unnaturally foggy.
Francisco squinted though the suffocating mist as he patrolled the dank, cement-walled walkway by the palace court yard, his heavy boots slapping rhythmically in the wet puddles on the concrete floor. His green King's Sentry uniform flapped behind him, flickering in the dim patches of moonlight that filtered through the fog. As he walked, he stroked his rifle discreetly with a stiff finger and weighed the benefits of lighting a cigarette to steady his nerves against the chance of being caught smoking on duty.
A sudden sound of mechanical whirling. Francisco stiffened, almost jumped – but didn't, being, after all, one of the King's finest guards.
It was one of those goddamned security cameras – they're mounted everywhere nowadays. No wonder he couldn't shake the feeling he was being watched.
Somewhere, a door slammed. He swallowed, and checked his watch. Bernardo was late. To hell with it. He pulled out a cigarette from an inner coat pocket – lit it in a practiced movement – and took a deep drag.
Sudden movement to his left – Francisco dropped the cigarette and raised his rifle, squinting at the dark shape in the gloom –
"Who's there?" Could it be the spirit, back aga-
"Long live the King!"
Francisco's grip on the gun relaxed, but he did not lower it.
"Is that you, Bernardo?"
"Yeah." The figure walked through the fog, revealing the green coat of a fellow King's Sentry, hands lowering from where they were raised.
"You're right on time, you are." Muttered Francisco irritably, lowering his rifle. Bernardo nodded apologetically, "It's midnight Francisco – go to bed. You look like you need it."
"Many thanks." Francisco nodded, and cast another look around into the gloom, "It's a cold night, and I am not at ease…" Bernardo tensed.
"Your shift – was it … undisturbed?"
Jerkily, Francisco nodded, then started at a sound from the opposite direction Bernardo had come.
"Show yourself!" Francisco barked sharply, raising his weapon once more.
"Easy-" Another green clad King's Sentry stepped into view, accompanied by a stocky, dark skinned man, appearing to be in his late twenties, dressed in a commoner's light brown suit jacket. The young man's otherwise easy-going features were presently sharpened in a faint scowl as he eyed the weapons directed at him.
"Marcellus," Bernardo greeted the new-comer King's Sentry, sounding relieved, "And - would this gentleman be Horatio?"
"Last time I checked." The young man – Horatio – replied dryly. A young university book worm, judging by his clothes and his attitude.
Francisco had seen enough. He saluted the fellow Kings Sentries and spared a nod for the student, then headed back towards his quarters, wishing for nothing more than a long smoke and a warm bed.
o o o
"It comes, every night, the moment the clock strikes midnight." Bernardo had been recounting his strange tale in a clipped, nervous whisper. Beside him, the silent Marcellus' fingers gave a slight twitch, as if missing a nerve-steadying cigarette to hold between them.
Bernardo continued. "There is no doubt it will be coming soon tonight. You will understand, once you see it, why it brings such fear to us." The last sentence was directed at Horatio, who still had a small frown of doubt on his face.
Horatio opened his mouth, perhaps meaning to express his scepticism, when Bernardo's face contorted as he pointed over Horatio's shoulder, his mouth working for a brief moment before he cried hoarsely: "There! Behind you!"
Horatio turned to face a sight that had his blood run cold.
Weaving through the fog was the smoky outline of a human figure. It was tall and majestic, undoubtedly a man, but it seemed to be made of nothing but grey vapour and shadow, shifting and rippling as it paused in front of the three men standing frozen before it.
Horatio was the first to wake from the stupor. "But - that's impossible."
Bernardo's voice was an octave higher. "It's him! Can you see? The armour, that face …"
"Speak to it, Horatio!" Marcellus's deep voice barked.
Horatio's eyes were transfixed, staring at the apparition as if he could not look away. "What are you?" He murmured, breathing heavily with adrenaline, "Why do you walk these halls? What horrible deed or undone business disturbs you, that you cannot rest in peace?"
The ghost took a step closer. Bernardo gasped. Its eyes, though smoky grey like its body, glinted with an unearthly light.
"Speak!" Horatio shouted.
The ghost glidedsuddenly forward, legs not moving, sliding impossibly quickly along the concrete floor. The men scattered to the sides, plastering themselves against the walls.
It had passed the men in a blink of an eye. It slowed as suddenly as it had speeded, then, continuing up the corridor without giving the slightest indication of noticing the men, was swallowed by the ever-present fog.
TBC
A/N: Please review! If you think this is trash, you must tell me, otherwise I will keep uploading trash on to this website - wouldn't that be terrible?