Dead and Angry!

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What if the lingering evil of Viktor and his dead mother decided to visit me? He’d visited me from the other side before. Could he could do it again? Could he be stronger with dead mother beside him? What if she was a charred ghost, hell bent on revenge? I was startled out of my thoughts by a loud rapping sound.
Who could be coming to visit at this time of night?

 

Decapitated – Lingering Evil

Laughter exploded once again, filling the room. Overpowering, deafening, evil laugher and the mirror in front of me cracked from left to right, decapitating my image.tumblr_nf1swqCdsk1tzqrfpo1_500

The long awaited sequel to Dead of July is progressing nicely. Sheila is pregnant and looking forward to being a mum. Memories from the past haunt her, literally. Watch out for Lingering Evil. Coming soon…set to scare you!

A Good Irish Priest to scare the Daemons away.

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His words floated around me, seeming to come from a long way away. The atmosphere in the room changed. The temperature dropped drastically. Feeling light headed, I clutched the side of the chair, scared I was going to faint. Captain Myers stood up, a concerned look on his face, “Are you feeling alright? Look at me, focus. Sheila, whats going on?”

“Sorry, I feel sick, and a little bit dizzy.”

“Take some deep breaths, concentrate on breathing.”

I tried, but it didn’t seem to help. Captain Myers took the green army blanket from the examination table and put it around my shoulders. He crouched down in front of me and spoke softly, but I wasn’t listening to what he said.

The shadows grew dense and threatening, my vision blurred. The room tilted to one side slowly. I hung on to my chair as though my life depended on it.

“Sheila, you don’t look good. What’s happening?”

The doctor snapped his fingers in front of my face, “Come on, come back to me, snap out of it.”

Evil laughter filled the room…and then it was gone.
The shadows vanished, tears rolled down my cheeks.
There was a tap on the door, “Who is it? I’m with a patient.”

A soft lilting Irish voice answered, “It’s I, Major McCafferty. May I come in?”

Help – Viktor’s Back

Shadows in my car, I could see them.

You can’t hurt me, you’re dead. You can scare me, but you can’t hurt me.

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“I need help,” I whispered.

Major McCafferty stopped and faced me.

“Why, whats wrong?”

“Viktor,” I whispered, “he’s back!”

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She opened her eyes slowly, head pounding, bones aching. It was cold and silent. Her vision cleared a little.
“I’m in a castle!”
The room was empty. Jessie stood up carefully, swaying a little. Atop of a few stone steps was a door, cracks of light shining around it.
“It’s open!”
She climbed the steps carefully, feeling dizzy and nauseous. Grasping the old iron handle, she pulled. The door didn’t budge. It was locked firmly from the outside.
“Noooooo!” she wailed.
The room swayed a little beneath her feet. Sitting on the step, she looked at the window in the opposite wall. It invited an icy breeze into the room, chilling her bones. Pushing herself to her feet, she walked towards it,  her feet numb with cold.
Where are my shoes?
The window was high, overlooking mountains and clouds.
Where am I?
“Help, someone, anyone, please help me. HELP!
No one could hear her, no one answered.
Her only reply was the wind as it whistled by.

Lingering Evil

 

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“Sheila, you’d better tell me what’s going on, why are you so stressed?”

I opened my mouth to speak, but couldn’t find the words.

“Come on, deep breath, talk to me.”

“Viktor,” I whispered, “He’s back.”
“What? Sheila he’s dead.”

“Death didn’t stop him last year did it?” I sobbed.
“Last year you were contending with his evil family, they were playing tricks with your mind, not Viktor. Viktor is dead.  His mother is also dead. Died in that horrendous fire, and hopefully burning in Hell.  Yuri is in prison, they can’t hurt you. Look at me Sheila, listen to what I’m saying. The can’t hurt you anymore!”

I knew it was no use arguing. Neither Shirley or Jill had had seen Viktor, I was the only person cursed with seeing the dead. Now Shirley thought I was crazy. Maybe I was.

Evil Lingers for a while. Lingering Evil,  my sequel to Dead of July is in the works, and coming along as nicely as Dead Russians will allow. 

 

 

 

 

Viktor – An insight!

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Viktor never knew love. He was used by Marianna, his mother in ways you can’t even imagine, ways I can’t bring myself to write about. She was a monster! In the late seventies, when Vlad, Viktor’s  father was killed by a competing crime family, Marianna took revenge and then fled to Germany with her two sons, Viktor and Yuri. She became the Queen of a lucrative criminal world. A smart organized woman, she changed her business to suit the needs of the underworld. She traded guns, secrets and worst of all, women. No women is not the right word, she bought and sold young girls.

In her youth she was beautiful to look at, and took lovers as and when she pleased, male or female, it didn’t matter. If they pleased her she kept them for a while. If they didn’t satisfy her needs, they simply disappeared.

Marianna’s lifestyle caused her to age badly. Too much vodka, cocaine and sleepless nights turned her beautiful face into a grotesque mask. Willing lovers became few and far between, so she took her pick from the men who worked for her, and the young girls she traded. They were unwilling partners, and many were never seen again.

Yes Viktor was evil, but his mother was much worse, she was the Devil.

King William IV – Brompton

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King William IV – Brompton-on-Swale

Every time I look at this pub it brings back warm fuzzy memories. It is the first place I legally purchased an alcoholic drink.
I remember the little group of old timers that sat in the bar every night.
I loved this place!
I remember Hen Parties (Bachelorette Parties in my current place of abode), and tinsel at Christmas.
I also remember the guy who tried to come on to me at the bar, and the landlady who let me out the back to escape him.
I embellished on this incident for my first ever short story, Guy at the Bar, and was immediately hooked on writing.
Guy at the bar can be purchased, with a collection of short stories in my eBook Ghosts on the Sand and other chilling tales. If you live in North Yorkshire and like quirky tales written by someone who spent their childhood in the beautiful village of Brompton on Swale, give it a try.

Shattered

Shattering window glass. Against a White background.

Shirley never finished her sentence.
The window just to the right of us exploded inwards. Splinters of glass flew towards us like tiny missiles. No time to move, we instinctively covered our heads with our hands and ducked. I felt tiny shards of glass hitting the back of my right hand, which was closest to the window. It only lasted a few seconds, but it seemed much longer. When I felt safe again I sat up Shirley’s head was on the table, she wasn’t moving.
The kitchen door burst open and Gay appeared. “Don’t move, I’ll call the medic’s.” Monica was right behind her, she looked at me “You okay?” she asked. “Yes, Shirley, are you alright?” Shirley lifted her head slowly, no blood on her face, her hands and hair had protected her head, but there was red mark on her forehead. She must have hit her head on the table.
She looked groggy. Her eyes wouldn’t focus!