1984 – Evil Lingers

Remember the eighties? I do! I was in my early twenties and living in Dortmund, West Germany!
Remember the hairstyles, those fashions…need I say more? It was a blast…except when it wasn’t.
Remember those movies “The Evil Dead, The Exorcist, Phantasm, Nightmare on Elm Street”? Scary weren’t they? You’d snuggle up to someone for protection, feeling nervous, jumpy and wondering if those thing really happened.

For me they did happen. They happened when I had no one to snuggle up to. They happened when I was alone and vulnerable, and I’ll never forget. Evil Lingers for a long time, and the memory lingers even now!

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?”

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!

Dare I sleep?

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Tucked into my bed, alone! No part of me exposed to the air, hiding, scared, no sleep for me tonight.
When will I be safe again?
The air moves, I feel it.
“Who’s there?”
No reply.
I’ve come for your unborn child.
I know my fears are talking to me. I’m alone with my fear, conjuring up terrors that don’t exist.
The bedcovers slowly glide down the bed and onto the floor.
Icy air touches my skin. Cold, dirty air, tainted with an evil presence.
“Won’t someone please, HELP ME!”
I shouted to an empty room. No one heard.
I clutched my stomach and prayed.

Lingering Evil – Shadows

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“Who’s there?” I asked again.

Whispers in the darkness! Distorted shadows moved past the end of the bed and deepened in the corner of the room.

Les sat up sleepily. “What’s going on? Are you having one of your dreams?”

I sometimes had dreams that turned out to be premonitions, Les was used to them, but they were unpredictable.

“No, someone touched me!”

I was wide awake.

The Ticking of the Engine

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Glancing back at my car, I expected to see Viktor sitting in the passenger seat, an evil grin on his face, but there was nothing there. What I’d heard was most likely the ticking of the engine cooling down. Alfa Romeos ran hot, just like the Italians, and I drove it hard. There was nothing to see, but I felt a sudden chill, the hairs on the back of my neck stood on end.

“Come on, let’s get you inside, you’re shaking. You need a hot, sweet cup of tea.”

I barely heard Shirley’s words, but allowed her to lead me up the stairs to our office.

*****************

Yes, I’m writing again. This is the follow-up to Dead of July which I published back in 2013. You can only write when the time is right!!!

Alone?

Dead of July (Small)

I sat on the bed in our empty flat and cried. I was five months pregnant and my emotions now affected the precious bundle I carried. When I cried it moved around inside me, letting me know it didn’t like that state of affairs. I hugged my stomach.

“Sorry, I’ll be brave, I just don’t want your daddy to be away for a month. I don’t want to be alone.”

But I’m not alone am I baby Thompson? I have you!

Then I heard a voice as plain as can be, “And you have me.” The voice had a strong Russian accent, it was cold and menacing.

“Stop, you can’t hurt me, you’re dead! Go away and leave me and my baby alone.”

This is an extract from a book I’m currently working on. It’s the sequel to Dead of July, my first novel. Ghosts on the Sand is a collection of  short stories. I love to write, and I’d love you to read, and enjoy my stories.

Dead of July

Ghosts on the Sand