Haunted House!


photo from davidstillman.blogspot.com

All I could think about was the sad face that haunted my dreams at night, and my thoughts all day. The face that was taking over my life. Why? I didn’t know her. If it was the old man’s daughter, she was long since dead. My day at work was painfully slow. Finally, eager to talk to the old man, I made and excuse to leave early.

January dusk soon fell, cold and uninviting. I was grateful for my heated car seat after being chilled to the bone walking across the parking lot. It was dark when I pulled onto the drive way of the ranch. There wasn’t a light to be seen in anywhere in the house either. Wishing I’d brought a flashlight I opened the car door. The breeze was no longer gentle.

Watching my step I walked in the direction of the huge shadow which loomed ahead of me. It’s all I could see of the house. I approached the front door and tapped on it nervously, feeling like an intruder smothered in a blanket of darkness.

The door swung open slowly, creaking as it did so. Doors always creaked in these situations.

“Hello, is anyone home?”

No answer, no movement. The air was deadly still. I took a step forward into the house. The temperature dropped several degrees when I did so. How could it be colder inside than out. My breath formed a cloud in front of my face.

“Hello.” I said softly.

A floorboard creaked. The sound came from above. I looked in the direction of the stairs, but thought the better of going up there.

What if he’s dead? 

Standing just inside the doorway I wondered what to do next. I had no business walking around the house uninvited. People did that in movies and it always ended badly. Turning around I pulled the door shut and walked back to the car. Should I leave a note?

Footsteps crunched on the gravel drive way and I looked up expecting to see the old man. The steps continued, but there was no one to be seen. Instinctively I locked the car door. Footsteps crunched past me, stepping onto the porch. Looking in my rearview mirror, I watched the front door open and close on its own.

Time to get out of Dodge! 

I started the car and floored the accelerator, pebble dashing the front of the house with gravel as I left.

Thank God I didn’t go upstairs! 

She was Dying, but she kept it to herself!

catseyeSilence! The sobbing stopped abruptly as it had started. The barn was empty. I pointed my flashlight into the corner, where I’d seen the baby swaddled in the hay. Nothing! I was losing my mind? Something moved behind me and I froze, remembering the sharp claws that dug into my shoulder the night before. Turning quickly, I prepared to run, but instead tripped over some old farming equipment, dropping my flashlight as I went down. It spun across the floor, stopping by the wall. Pushing myself up, I went to retrieve it. Something brushed against my legs. I heard a sound again. “Who’s there?” I asked. “Show yourself.” Two large manic eyes stared at me. It was a barn cat. She hissed at me, warning me away from a litter of new-born kittens. “Oh Thank God.”

A cat protecting her litter I could handle. It also explained the scratches from the previous night. No Daemon lurked in the barn, just a mother protecting her babies.

I need to get home, before Les comes looking for me. Hurrying down the road I wondered about my sanity (and not for the first time in my life), I had an overactive imagination, which is why I wrote for a hobby, but could my imagination really conjure up a baby in a barn? Surely not. Did I see kittens and think baby? I don’t think so!

When I got home Les was switching off the TV. “Did you get some good photos?” he asked.

“Not really, too dark.” I answered.

I didn’t sleep well that night. A voice resounded in my brain, a sweet, sad, but unfamiliar voice:

I’m dying, but I don’t want to say, I just don’t want to spoil the day, 

I’m dying, but I’ll keep it to myself.

I love you mum, I love you dad, you’re the best parents a girl ever had,

I don’t want to ever let you down. 

My secret is I have a child, I gave birth to a baby so meek and mild,

She’s safe and warm and you will never know.

I’m dying, but I don’t want to say, I just don’t want to spoil the day,

I’m dying but I’ll keep it to myself. 

Sitting up in bed I listened to Les snore. I wish I slept as well as him, hard to sleep when your next story is festering in your brain. Is this whats going on, is this a story trying to escape?

Fire, Smoke, Fear and Death – Time to Face it!

Its time to face you smoking man. Its time to see what you want from me. I’m afraid, but not terrified! Who are you looking for? Surely it’s not me. I think it’s a young beautiful gypsy girl with rings on her fingers, and bells on her toes.

Where she goes now, nobody knows!

Do you want me to help you find her?


Unforgettable Figment of my Imagination – Oh Baby thats what I Want

The room was warm and filled with blue cigarette smoke. Speakers screeched with feedback. One two, one two, and then the music began. It was music I’d heard before, long ago. I’d heard it on movies. The dance floor was alive with laughter. Ladies in tight pants with tiny waists danced to the sound of the Big Bopper. Where had I heard that name before?

“Oh baby that’s what I want”

It was dark, hard to see. Where was I? It was a different time, a different place, and a different world!

“Hey, you wanna jive with me?”


“You wanna jive with me?”

A young man in tight jeans and a shirt with a thin black leather tie hanging down the front stood in front of me. His hair was slicked back, a curl falling over his forehead. Placed there carefully to look random. Is this what my mam had called a teddy boy? I thought teddy boys had gone out of fashion years ago.

“No, I don’t jive!”

He looked disappointed and walked away. He had more luck with the girl sitting across the room. I watched fascinated as he swung her in circles.

Where was I?

The jiving finished and the music slowed down. I knew the next song very well. Nat King Cole. Unforgettable! It was my mam’s favorite!

That’s when I saw him walking towards me, his head tilted to one side, his eyes shining with mischief. He stopped halfway across the dance floor and lit a cigarette, holding it as though it were a fashion accessory. It suited him! He must be hot in his leather jacket, but it made him look icy cool. I shivered as he approached. He took my hand and led me to the dance floor. Unforgettable, that’s what you are.

He stopped and swung me around to face him.

Where am I? Where did you come from?

My heart stopped!

I gasped for breath!

The smoke was gone, but I still tasted it. The music was a shadow in my mind, haunting the corners of my memory.

I’d dreamt it all? The dark stranger in the park, and then in the pub, had triggered my imagination. I could still feel his touch, smell his leather jacket. Who was he?

Is he real or am I imagining him?

Dead of July my first novel is available on Amazon from $0.99, yes that’s less than a pound or a euro if you live in Europe. I’m cheap! I want everyone to read my first attempt at being a writer. I’ve been writing since I was 12 years old. Some of my old stories will resurface soon, but for now, there’s Dead of July! A young army wife in trouble…not far from the truth, I always was! Enjoy!

Dead of July by Sandra Thompson


River of Death!

riverside bombThey walked down the back lane in silence oblivious of the danger close by. An unstable deadly bomb was being built by a man with an unstable deadly mind. He talked quietly as he worked. “I’ll get the bastards who killed you. I’ll get them, and their friends. They’ll be sorry.”


“How dangerous is Colleen’s brother?” Lindsay asked.

“I don’t know. He was all right until his sister was killed. Now he’s lost all reason. John’s suffering too, but his grief is private and not vengeful. I hope John finds Patrick and takes him back to Ireland.”

“Michael, Patrick killed my friends didn’t he. He made the car bomb that blew up the disco!”

“I don’t know for sure. John and I followed him to a pub in Richmond that night. He said he was going to the club. He was drunk and sad. He didn’t make much sense, but we thought the worst that would happen was he’d start a fight. We planned to meet him and go with him, just to keep him out of trouble, but he got away from us. We arrived just a the shit hit the fan and the car outside exploded.”

“Did you see Patrick at the fire? Was he there?”

“No, that’s why I can’t talk to the cops yet. I don’t want them to arrest him. If they do he’ll never get away because all of the evidence points at him. What if it wasn’t him?”

“I know you want to believe he isn’t responsible, but who else could it be?”

“Colleen!” Michael said quietly.

“Oh come on, you don’t really believe that. Colleen is a restless spirit. She’s a figment of our troubled minds.”

“Lindsay, you saw her at the window. You’ve heard her voice.”

“Yes, but ghosts can’t make bombs!”

“Quiet! Did you hear that?”

Lindsay and Michael stood still and listened.

“Its John.” Michael said. He ran towards the sound of John’s voice. Lindsay followed reluctantly. As she ran, she heard another loud angry voice. There was a loud splash and then silence.

Lindsay froze, something was wrong. She turned and came face to face with her dead friend. Mel was no longer burned and disfigured, but the vibrant happy young girl that Lindsay had grown up with.


The shadowy figure in front of her smiled and disappeared.

“MEL!” Dammit, I’m seeing things.

Lindsay set off after Michael again, but didn’t get far. There was an almighty explosion.  The ground shook, knocking off her feet, throwing her backwards into the old stone wall. She bounced off it like a rag doll, banging her head as she was flung precariously towards the river Swale. Lindsay grabbed at trees and clumps of grass to stop herself from falling into the water and finally made contact with a low hanging branch. She clung on for dear life, her toes dangling just above the river. Branches and leaves hurtled past her like missiles. Helpless and afraid, Lindsay clung to the branch and prayed.

Dead of July – Amazon – My first novel “Dead of July” was released in December 2013 and is available for $0.99 on Amazon. Yes, it’s a bargain, but I’m a relatively unknown writer and would like everyone to get to know me. I’d love your feedback. 

Preview – Dead of July



Walking Dead? A visit from a dead friend!

0a81a5298b5af4dc9a1bab1dedbdb0b5“DED 1666? Are you sure?” The Sgt. asked “It’s a pretty unusual number, probably a custom plate.”

“Yes I’m sure.”

“A number like that should be easy to trace. You can’t remember the color, but you remember the plate number.”

“Like you said, it’s unusual.” The doorbell rang again. Pam left Lindsay and the Sgt. together and opened the door to Steve, Lindsay’s brother. He followed her into the kitchen. “I thought I’d pop by to make sure  you’re alright. I just opened the local newspaper and saw what happened at that disco. I heard the fire engines last night, but didn’t know where they were going. Isn’t that where you hang out sometimes?” Then he looked at Sargent Whitely. “Are you in trouble Lindsay?”

“No for once I’m not in trouble. I was at the disco last night, I left early. All of my friends were there. Now they’re dead.” Lindsay’s voice broke. She didn’t have a close relationship with her brother and he looked uncomfortable.

“What? There are no survivors? God, I didn’t know. That’s awful. Why didn’t you come to us last night. You shouldn’t be on your own. I’m not sure how to contact Mum and Dad, they’re in France somewhere.”

Lindsay looked a Steve. He was genuinely worried, a side of him she’d never seen before. “Whats the point in worrying them. They probably won’t hear the news in France, leave them be and let them enjoy their vacation. God knows they deserve it.”

Sgt Whitely interrupted, “I’m going to leave you in peace now. If you remember anything else please call me.” Lindsay nodded and Pam showed him out.

Steve looked at his sister. “Are you going to be okay?”

“I honestly don’t know.” Lindsay said. She felt numb, probably in shock. “I’m alive.”

Pam switched on the kettle. “It’s too early for anything stronger so we’ll make do with tea. That car you saw, you’d best watch out for it, it may be the bloody Irish. They might be watching you. Terrorist bastards.”

“IRA?” Steve looked at me alarmed. “Did the IRA do this?”

“No one knows. The locals are putting two and two together and making six. They are guessing its the IRA because Studio 2 is near an Army camp. No one really knows what happened. They say it may be a car bomb, but everyone is just jumping to conclusions.”

“Do you want to come and stay with Janie and I until this all blows over?” Steve asked.

“It’s never going to blow over, people are dead, how can that blow over? No, I’ll be alright here.” A noise from outside made everyone look towards the window. Lindsay screamed.

“What wrong?” Pam asked. Lindsay couldn’t speak, just pointed to the window.

Steve opened the back door. “Nothing here, it was probably a squirrel or something.

Lindsay was visibly shaking. “No one saw the face at the window?”

Pam and Steve looked at each other. Steve spoke “No, I didn’t see anything. Are you sure you don’t want to come and stay with Janie and I?”

“Don’t treat me like an invalid, I saw a someone at the window.”

“Did you recognize them? Who was it?” Pam asked.

“It looked like Mel.”

“Wasn’t Mel at Studio 2 with you last night? Did she leave with you?”

Lindsay hung her head. “No, she was dancing with someone when I left.” She daren’t add that the face she’d just seen at the window was charred, hair burned off and teeth protruding from lips that were no longer there. If she told them that, they’d think she’d lost her mind. 

My novel Dead of July is available on Amazon, more stories to be published this year. Check back soon for the next instalment of my short blog story. I hope you it creeps you out!

Dead of July by Sandra Thompson


Help from the Other Side – Dark Angel

441605-priestWhy are you putting up such a fight? No words broke the silence, she spoke directly into my mind. I answered her the same way.

“When I die, I want it to be under my terms, not yours. Your trickery made me want you for a while, but I see through it now. You don’t fool me anymore.”

I saw my dad’s face fresh and clear in my mind’s eye. Who was with him?

I’ve offered you eternal life. You can travel anywhere, see everything. Enjoy things you never dreamed possible. 

“All at the expense of others. My life is on this earth, not in a dark evil world of shadows. I believe in God.”

She cackled loudly and moved closer to me, Her dark beauty terrified me.

“Close your eyes Lucy, don’t look into her face.” It was my dad’s voice. I did as he said. Her face was still there, but not so clear. “Dad who’s with you? I see someone.”

“It’s Alfie, remember your uncle? He was a Desert Rat with me in Egypt, he was the battalion padre too. He’s here to help.”

I remembered him well, but wasn’t sure my kind uncle could help me. I hoped death protected him, no one else should suffer. Feeling the pressure mounting around me I called Father Angelo. Something was about to happen and I needed his help. He didn’t answer, my apartment was silent. As I looked towards the bathroom door it slammed shut. I needed Father Angelo and rose to bang on the door and get his attention. When I tried to stand I couldn’t. I was paralysed.

Come to me of your own will, or I’ll simply take you. There’s no one to help you now. 

“Why do you want me? Whats so special about me?”

You’ve been close to death and have darkness hidden within you. A darkness that would make us one. A darkness that could easily bubble into something thoroughly evil with my help. We could ride together and cause havoc in this boring world.  

I felt her touch me again, and something inside me liked it.


“I’m here. Remember when we went on vacation to Cornwall?”

The minute he spoke the darkness inside me abated. I saw myself as a child, in a fishing boat with my parents. I smelled the salt air and smiled. I saw something else in the corner of my mind, it was my Uncle, the Desert Rat. He had a bible in his hand. He read from it softly. I didn’t hear what he said, but the sound of his voice was comforting, calming.  I blocked him from my mind. If I could see him, surely the dark evil bitch could see him too.

“If I come with you will you leave everyone else alone?” I asked, trying to distract the daemon that goaded me, “will you leave this place and my friends for good?”

There was silence for a few seconds. I felt her icy touch inside my head, she was searching, probing. I wasn’t strong enough to keep her out. She saw through me.

You think this is a game and you can toy with me? Oh no, you’ve had your chance. You will be with me, but your journey will no longer be pleasant. When I’m finished with you you’ll beg me to take you as mine. I’ll make you suffer until you want nothing but me, and then I’ll make you suffer some more. You caused this pain yourself. The journey to my kingdom will be agonizing, you’ll wish  you were dead. When you beg for death, I’ll give it to you and together we will be magnificent. 


It was the last thing I said before the pain began. Was I being skinned alive?

“Stop, stop.” I screamed.

Give yourself to me.

“No, never.”

Her face hovered over me, her eyes blazing red. She was no longer a dark beauty. She was ugly in her anger.

How could I fight this?

My first novel ‘Dead of July’ is available on Amazon and Smashwords

Please use Coupon Code NA44P to purchase on Smashwords for $1.99 until December 22nd. Thanks for stopping by.

Dead of July by Sandra Thompson



Dark Angel – Simmering

Dark Angel is fun to write, sorry the installments aren’t regular, but I have to be inspired. I may be inspired in an hour from now, or not until tomorrow, but I don’t want to force my brain to produce something I know you won’t like.

On another note, my latest short story is with my copy editor/writing coach, and I have to admit it’s distracting me. Those of you who write will understand how I feel. Writing a story is like being pregnant, and then finally giving birth. In your eyes your offspring is PERFECT! Well imagine someone coming along and criticizing it, telling you this needs fixing and that needs putting right. It’s tough, especially when you know they’re right.

For the next few weeks I will be juggling my short story, and my blog, so be patient with me. I love them both dearly and will divide my time between them.

If you want to read my first novel Dead of July, it is available on Amazon and SmashWords. Buy a copy make a budding, unknown author very happy.

Dead of July by Sandra Thompson


Evil Possession – Dark Angel

Time stood still. I daren’t move, daren’t speak, hardly dared to breathe. The room was filled with a different sort of energy. I felt it! It was good energy. Was this another trick? I kept my eyes closed.

“What happened here?” A soft voice said. “What happened in this room?”

The words took me by surprise, so did the gentle voice. I opened my eyes to see the tall dark man remove his hat revealing a mess of black curly hair and a face wrinkled with laugher lines.

Jeff stood up “Father Angelo,” he said “My prayers were answered, you came.”

“Don’t pretend you believe in God young man, I know you’re a doubter. We almost had you once. You’d have been happy in the church, but your doubts prevented you from staying.”

Jeff laughed. “I doubt, but I don’t disbelieve.”

ExorcismI sat up and looked at them both. “Can I get out of this circle now? Will I be safe?”

It didn’t take many steps for Father Angelo to cross the room to where I sat on the floor. He was well over six feet tall. He bent down and helped me to my feet. “You must be Lucy, its good to meet you. I see young Jeff still plays with runes and candles. Come, lets sit.”

Jeff’s face beamed with admiration and affection. He and the Father were obviously friends. I sensed a history. Although I was happy to have someone else here to help, I worried about putting another life in danger. Was my life worth risking that of these two good men. I doubted it.

Father Angelo produced two bottles of red wine from somewhere inside his huge coat, and while Jeff opened one he sat opposite me. He didn’t speak, but took my hands in his, closing his eyes. After a minute or so, he opened them again and looked around the room.

“When did your troubles start?” he asked.

“After the car crash, I almost died. I should have died, but a shape appeared above me, an angel.”

Jeff interrupted, “Father, it was a dark Angel.”

“Let her tell her story, go on Lucy, what happened next?”

“The Angel spared my life and allowed the truck driver to die. I think she killed my dad. She did something to Reverend Laybourn. I think she wants to kill me now.”

“When did you move into this apartment?” Father Angelo asked.

“A little over a year ago, a month before my accident.”

Father  Angelo took a big gulp of his wine and swirled it around in his mouth savoring it. He closed his eyes and swallowed. “I think your apartment is the problem. Something dark lives here and it wants to live through you, to possess you. I can feel it.

“How can you know such a thing? ” I asked, “you just got here.”

“I felt it as soon as I got out of my car, before I even entered the building.”

I remembered Reverend Laybourn and the look on his face as he lay in the road after being hit by a car. Maybe he felt it too. “What if I move? I’ll find somewhere else to live.”

Father Angelo laughed. “That won’t help you now. This has already gone too far. We have to deal with this and deal with it quickly before we lose you.”

Jeff sat next to me and put his arm around me. “We’ll get through this, be brave.”

I wasn’t so sure. The room was silent now, but I knew I wasn’t safe. Something evil lingered in a corner waiting for me. Waiting to seduce me into another world. It was clever and beguiling and I didn’t know how much longer I could fight it. I didn’t know how much longer I wanted to.

My first novel ‘Dead of July’ is currently available on Amazon and SmashWords.

Watch out for my short story ‘Fire and Darkness’ which will be released at the end of the year.

Dead of July – Amazon

Dead of July by Sandra Thompson