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.

Dead of July (Small)

“I need help,” I whispered.

Major McCafferty stopped and faced me.

“Why, whats wrong?”

“Viktor,” I whispered, “he’s back!”

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!

Dead of July (Small)

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.

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?

shadowy-figure

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.

Beware the Quiet Writer

I’ve been reading Stephen King as long as I can remember. From his very first story to his very last, and enjoyed ever single one. His last book, The Outsider, may have been my favorite. I say that and then I remember the Mr. Mercedes trilogy, and Dr. Sleep. Oh and then there are his novellas. His writing changed to suit the era, but I was drawn into every single book. When I read Stephen King I don’t open a book, I reconnect with old friends.

Why am I telling you this? Because I’ve been quiet for a while! My brain has been active though, and now, its ready to go. I’m writing for 1984, the era, the style, the times. My Dead of July sequel is progressing. You can’t rush, or force a good story. It needs to flow naturally. I want my readers to put it down, take a deep breath and think about me. I’m not Stephen King, I’m Sandra Thompson, but I want folks to remember what I’ve written, from Dead of July to….wherever it ends.

Stephen King, you had me at Carrie!

Dead of July (Small)

A Valentine’s Day Surprise

valentine-baby

Valentine’s day 1984

Dortmund, Germany

“Congratulations, you’re going to be a mum.”
I was stunned!
“What? Are you sure?”

“Yes no doubt about it! You look surprised, you were planning a family weren’t you?”

“Yes, but I just didn’t expect it to happen this quickly?”
The young Army Captain’s piercing blue eyes focused on me from across the desk. “You are one of the lucky ones, some people try for years to get pregnant. You are happy about it right! You wanted this baby didn’t you?”

His handsome face looked concerned, “Do you want me to talk to your husband?”

“What, no, this is great news,” I replied, “I’m just not sure I know how to be a mum.”

The young Captain laughed out loud.

This is the sequel to my first novel Dead of July. It starts with good news, a baby, but soon things go bad and once again Sheila is fighting for her life and trying to preserve the life of her baby! 

The Icy Grip of Death!

I hit the ground hard. Gasping for breath I sat up. Help! Where am I. I heard the screeching of brakes and smelled burning rubber. Glass shattered. Where am I?

I was light-headed and my vision was blurry. A nebulous shadow hovered in front of me.

And then I saw smoke rings.

smoke rings

The smoking man looked down at me and smiled. I shivered as I felt his love overpower me.

“Its time to come with me. I’ve waited so long.”

He sad eyes filled with longing. This man’s life had ended a long time ago, but he couldn’t rest, he was waiting for someone. Surely he wasn’t waiting for me. I didn’t know him.

“I don’t know you. Why do you want me?”

I was cold, shivering, but I knew I was still alive and I wanted to stay that way. I tried to stand, but I was weak and oh so tired. Fight it, come on, fight it now.

The tinkling of bells seemed far away, but I heard them. Rings on her fingers and bells on her toes, from where she comes, nobody knows…

The beautiful face of the young gypsy girl filled my thoughts. I smelled roses and lavender! My body was light. A tingling started in my chest and radiated through my body. It was a happy feeling. Can this be death? Am I dying? If I am I like it!

Then a dark oppressive presence overshadowed me. The tingling stopped. The smoking man looked behind me. Anger spread across his face and for the first time I heard him speak. His words were angry.

“Leave us be, its time to leave us be!”

Icy fingers surrounded my heart. It was more than fear, it was death!

To read my first novel go to Dead of July