Category Archives: horror


So here it is – the start of my new novel ….. and I really have no idea where things are going to go… 



Clutching her baby closely to her chest she ran down the rain soaked street.  It wasn’t a good night to be out as the promised storm lashed the coastal town with a force greater than predicted. The lamplights cast pools of light and dingy shadows full of promise. At the same time the rain and lighting caused disturbing shadows and frightening images in every doorway and plate glass window and door.

Running as if her young life depended on it she was careful to stay hidden in the shadows. She wanted nobody to see her, and luckily the weather meant there was hardly anyone around. The storm had sent the whole town’s population heading for cover on this fateful night in October. Now everyone was holed up for the night in their warm homes. This year there would be no trick or treating, or at least none of the traditional kind that usually filled the streets.

As she ran she could feel her heart beating wildly in her chest. She could also feel her baby’s laboured breathing through the blanket she had snatched up and wrapped him  in as part of their escape. Although her thoughts were jumbled and her mind consumed by fear she also felt a kind of elation that at last she was free, that they were both free from Mack and his cruel ways.


Any thoughts? Comments? suggestions? Encouragement? ….


11 - Mistake



Filed under Adult, Contemporary, horror, Thriller/Mystery


Another writing group prompt: 
Imagine I say the word ‘red’. Write down the first three words that come to mind.
– Now incorporate the three words in a ‘short short-story’ (250 words) prompted by the cue:
‘You are sitting at your writing station with your back to an open window. You suddenly feel a chill.
Write about it.


Reading the words I’d written I was suddenly flushed with embarrassment and shame. ‘Call myself a writer? What a load of old tosh,’ I mumbled to myself running the cursor over the paragraphs and hitting delete. I blamed my lack of inspiration on the hot summer’s night. The room was blisteringly hot and all I could think about was getting a drink. Even opening the window had done little to change the temperate.

A sudden shiver ran down my spine, chilling me. In the screen of my laptop I was sure I had seen a shadow but when I checked back over my shoulder there was no-one there. I listlessly tapped out a few more words and gradually a story came to life on the page, one I knew would be good, one that could be my best ever yet. Within moments my fingers were flying over the keys excitedly and the words were appearing on the screen almost with a life of their own. My block had gone and my story was as good as writing itself.

I breathed a sigh of relief as my hero rushed through a night as the balmy one I was struggling under. Suddenly that shill hit me again, but this time it was stronger. In my mind’s eye full red lips flashed tantalisingly. The image was so strong that I as good as felt them on my neck.

Little by little my fingers slowed on the keys of my laptop, as my hero’s story stalled, as did mine. Those lips hadn’t been just in my mind’s eye; they had grazed my neck moments before as their owner’s teeth sank into my neck and tore the bloody life force from me. My best story ever would never get any further than the pc in front of me.

22 - RED

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Filed under Contemporary, horror

I hear…

The silence of the library was starting to drive Chester slightly wild. He needed to get out. He had been the only person in there all afternoon. even the cute librarian wasn’t in attendance. Studying for exams was all well and good but he knew at that moment that enough was enough. Normally he was content amongst the rows and rows of books shelved in high columns, you could almost say he felt quite at home, but today he felt slightly ill at ease. The old library with its wood panelling and frosted windows was one of his favourite haunts whether to study or relax a while, but today something felt a little off kilter.

Picking up his notebooks, paper and tablet he threw them haphazardly into his bag and started to stand up when someone said his name right behind him. The voice as so close he was sure he had felt the person’s breath brush his ear.

He looked over his shoulder to see who it was and what they wanted, but there was nobody there. He looked back and started to pick up his notebooks, paper and tablet.

‘Hang on a minute,’ he whispered to himself, checking over his shoulder once more. He had been sure that he had already picked up all his things once and put them in his bag. Deciding that the hours of solitary studying were really getting to him he picked up his bag and pushed back the chair.

“Chester…” the voice came again. Again Chester looked over his shoulder, but still there was nobody there. He tried to peer through the books stacked on the shelves behind him, guessing that someone was trying to wind him up.

“Benson, is that you?” he asked quietly moving toward s the shelves. “Come on, man, are you trying to spook me?” Benson was one of Chester’s best friends and prone to carrying out pranks on everyone, and on Chester in particular.

He rounded the corner into the next aisle to find it empty, but the window at the end of the stack of shelves slightly open and the fine mesh curtain blowing in the draught. He giggled nervously realising that what he had thought was someone calling his name was simply the noise made by the curtain as it brushed the edge of the shelf. He hadn’t felt someone’s breath on his era it had simply been the breeze from the window.

All of a sudden two books fell from the shelf  to his right hitting the floor with a loud bang.

“Jesus,” Chester stuttered and clutched his chest. He hadn’t realised just quite how wound up he had felt.  He bent down to pick up the books and put them back on the shelf, and was amused to notice one was about paranormal activity.

Having put them back on the shelf he went to the window and closed it, straightening the curtain back down as he did so.

Hitching his bag on his shoulder he started back down the line of shelves towards the exit. Just ahead of him he saw two more books on the floor and wondered how he could have missed them.  Well they could jolly well stay there he decided and stepped over them glancing down as he did so. That was when he noticed that they were the books he had already picked up once. He stopped and started to bend down to retrieve them again, wondering how they could have got back on the floor without him noticing or hearing anything.

“Out now,” He said to himself. “Study no more for madness is upon thee.”

He plopped the books back on the shelf and stood upright, stretching slightly. He turned back round and was about to head for the door when out of the corner of his eye he was sure he caught sight of someone moving back behind the next row of shelves. He wondered if perhaps someone had said his name after all and had just narrowly missed being caught. He was sure Benson was the miscreant and was going to catch him this time.

Despite being in the library where silence was favoured Chester shouted “Benson I know you’re there so you can come on out right now.”

He waited a second to see if there would be any reply then hitching his bag up once more he ran full tilt round the stacks of shelves to where he had been sure he had seen someone. Again there was no-one there.

“Okay,” he shouted down the aisle. “You can play your stupid games, I’ve had enough and  I’m out of here. There’s a pint with my name on it and I’m headed straight over to the Feathers.”

“This is no game Chester, and you know it. Remember Denham?” the voice came back at him.

“Denham?!” Chester blurted out in a stutter “Who are you, and how do you know about Denham?” he asked looking all around. Now he was sure it couldn’t be Benson. Denham had been an unfortunate student at the university long before Benson had started there. Chester had no idea as to who the voice might belong to. “Show yourself now.” he said assertively.

No answer came but Chester was sure he heard movement behind the door ajar to his right.  “I hear you in there,” he shouted, “And I’m coming in.”

Chester grabbed the door handle intending to pull the door wide open and find this mystery person, but it was wrenched from his grasp and slammed shut. At exactly the same moment the shelving directly behind him tottered and swayed in his direction causing an avalanche of books to fall out and bury Chester under them. Seconds later the shelves themselves toppled and fell on him too.

Although he didn’t think he was seriously hurt Chester could hardly move and would need help to get out from under the heavy tomes. As he tried to move he was sure he could hear movement and the sound of someone breathing above him. “Who are you?” he asked. “Help me get out from under here, please…. please,” he begged to no avail.

“I know you’re there,” he  breathlessly whispered as the crushing weight of the books felt heavier and heavier on his chest. “I know you’re there.  I  hear you…, I  hear you…, I  hear ……”

04 -I can hear

Thanks to  for the prompt

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Filed under horror, Intrigue, Thriller/Mystery



Looking out to sea she leaned into him, savouring his warmth, or  was that her imagination? The night sky was starting to lighten; the deep black of night giving way to the suggestion of the coming dawn. Despite the warmth from his body and the gentle heat coming from the dying embers of the campfire she felt an involuntary shiver. Was this really to be goodbye? She knew it was.

It seemed like only moments ago, yet also an age since they had arrived on the deserted beach and set up camp. He’d been gallant when he had picked her up as the sun fell over the horizon, chivalrous you could almost say.  He accepted her invitation and  hadn’t asked about her reasoning for a nighttime picnic, despite the obvious arrival of autumn, and the looming possibility of a threatening storm.

When they had arrived in the desolate cove she had laid out the blanket and set out the gourmet treats she knew he’d like, while he gathered some driftwood and with a little help from firelighters from the car had built a roaring fire.  He had opened the champagne and poured her a glass, his mind clearly on the prize and his eyes on her breasts. She knew how to reel them in when it came to it.

He had been so absorbed in the moment that he had hardly noticed that she wasn’t matching his pace in the eating or drinking stakes, or at least it didn’t seem to worry him. They spoke of love and futures, but she knew it was little more than a game for her. She had had him in her sights for some time. He was a lone wolf. He had told her he had no family and his friends were never around. He was her perfect conquest, and she to all intents and purposes his, but he had no idea of her secret. That was his error, his fatal error.

Two weeks was longer than she normally took to finally catch her prey, but in the end he had been worth it she thought as she wrapped her coat tightly around her and stood up. His blood had been rich and sated her hunger. Now as the dawn approached with more vigour she kissed him one more time and said her goodbye as she drew away.  She knew the tide would clear  away her debris, as she now thought of him, leaving nothing of the feast, or any sign that they had even been there.

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Filed under Contemporary, horror, Intrigue


“As the nights of  winter prolong the cold how I long for the yellow of the sun, for days of carefree clothlessness, for warmth from the sky and for my vitality to be returned to me. This existence is like nights of winter which are marked by cold and darkness and chill, but the rising of the yellow sun revives, yet I no longer have the yellow sun as a friend. There are even some who still believe I would fear it for it should end me, but those days are gone.”

“Joseph, you are such a drama queen, such a yellow belly-ed  wastrel, come lie here with me. I’ll give you the warmth of which you talk so eloquently. We have no need of the yellow sun.”

“Drama queen, yellow belly, wastrel. For those names I could leave you forever, but for the warmth I know you hold for me. But what of Eugene, are you not his?” Joseph approached her.

“Joseph I was never truly his. Come drink from me. The time is right, and perhaps one day soon you will change me, allow me to cross.”

“And then where would I get the warmth, my love?” Joseph loomed over Violet and began to drink her warmth as he remembered his days in the sun.


01 -yellow


Filed under Contemporary, horror, Oddities


Meredith walked slowly down the corridor listening intently as she did so. She was sure she’d heard a noise from the kitchen, which was strange as she knew she was alone in the house until Josh got home and that would be at least two hours away.

Meredith was a pretty, petite redhead with freckles that she had hated when she was a child, but had now accepted as the delightful feature that they were. She was a year three school teacher and at work wore formal wear to accentuate her authority. At home she favoured casual clothes and on this night was wearing one of her husbands checked shirts over a pair of old jogging pants. She had been cutting up cloth for a school project she was preparing for the next day when she had been startled by the noise and had cut her hand. Blood dripped from it along the floor beside her footsteps. On her face there were more cuts leftover from some work she had taken on in the garden. These were were drying now, but added to her slightly forlorn look.

“Hello?” she called to see if anyone would answer, “Hello, is anyone there?”

Meredith and Josh were staying in the old Newman house while they waited for theirs to be renovated. They had moved in just a few days ago and still Meredith wasn’t used to it. To her it felt like it had a life of its own. She had heard stories about the house when she was a child. Stories that could make the hair on the back of your arm stand on end, but refused to give them any credence now she was an adult.

Even though she was walking slowly she soon arrived at the kitchen door. The opaque glass gave nothing away of what was on the other side. Meredith grabbed the handle ready to turn and push. All of a sudden there was an unearthly groan from the other side of the door. Meredith’s face changed just as suddenly from worry to abject fear. She pulled back from the door for a second and pressed herself against the wall in the dim light that filtered through the door.

She wasn’t sure why, but guessed it was the stress, as without warning a fit of the giggles grew within her bursting out of her mouth as she stood back to the wall.

“Cut….Cut,” Marcello shouted. “Janice you’re supposed to be in mortal danger, not giggling like a schoolgirl.”

“Sorry, Marcello,” Janice aka Meredith replied as she returned back to the other end of the corridor to shoot the scene one more time.

25 -cut

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Filed under horror, humour

This is where I relax

Eugene and Violet had just enjoyed another evening on the town. Eugene had treated Violet to yet another delicious meal in an exclusive restaurant, although he still didn’t seem to enjoy the food himself. for the first time though he suggested Violet come back to his place for a nightcap or something. violet had been waiting for this and had eagerly accepted. Everything about Eugene turned her on and she couldn’t wait to take things a step further.

They walked back to Eugene’s place arm in arm and on arrival Violet was slightly overwhelmed.  He had never really spoken much about himself or where he lived, leaving Violet to do most of the talking about her life and family, or rather lack of it. Eugene’s home was a large detached house in a road of terraced ones. It had clearly been the site of yet another terraced house in the past which had been bulldozed at some point to make way for a huge modern townhouse.  Steel and reflective glass made up most of the building, which gave nothing away of the insides, just as Eugene gave little away about himself.

The front door was up a couple of steps. Grabbing Violet’s hand Eugene led the way, unlocking the door and switching on the light in the large hallway. Violet pushed the door closed behind her as Eugene pulled her into the house.

The hallway was modern but delicately lit by electric candlelight. To the right was a large , yet strangely intimate living room, stuffed full of reproduction furniture. Eugene moved across the floor and opened a wall bar in which were displayed a huge range of bottles and glasses. He asked what Violet would like to drink and when she chose poured her a large glass, while he himself had nothing. He sat beside her on the reproduction antique sofa and caressed her neck.

The drink soon took effect, making Violet even more malleable under Eugene’s hot embrace. She had already dropped her coat over a chair on the way in. With his breath hot on Violet’s neck Eugene began to unbutton her blouse.  “You know what I want?” he whispered.

“What we both want,” She replied. “Should we go upstairs?” Violet tried to get up but Eugene held her firmly against the sofa.

“But, my darling, this is where I like to relax,” he said as he leaned back  smiling slightly

Too late Violet spotted Eugene’s impossibly large teeth as he moved back towards her neck and found her jugular in a well-practised action.


23 -where i relax


Filed under Contemporary, horror