Strangled!

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Sofia and Jean rested on the bed with Bill between them. He drifted into a guilt free sleep and dreamed of women, money and sex. It was his life, all he thought about. Sofia caressed his upper thigh and watched him grow. Jean breathed into his ear. He smiled in his sleep. In his dream his was back in the hotel, straddled by his now dead mistress, enjoying her attention, her body, her money. His dream felt real.

“Room Service!”
The door opened and his dead wife stood there, naked, pale, beautiful. Jean had been a good-looking woman. He beckoned her. She joined Sophia on the bed. Bill watched them kiss and caress each over. Two naked beautiful naked women. Overcome by lust, he pulled them down beside him.
“Shhh, wait, don’t rush it.”
Sophia opened the drawer where the pendant lay, the gift he’d chosen to lure his next mistress. She slipped it over her head it sat between her perfect breasts as she mounted him again. Bill closed his eyes and drifted into ecstasy, the like of which he’d never experienced before…nor would again.

When Bill didn’t show up for work his colleges assumed he was grieving. Jean’s parents were lost in their own grief and days slipped by. Days turned into weeks.

Three weeks after the hotel fire a young police detective called Maria, knocked on the front door of Bill’s home. When there was no answer, she assumed he was at work. As she turned to leave a neighbor approached.
“I think he’s home, I saw him come back on the day of the funeral. I haven’t seen him leave.”
“The funeral was two weeks ago wasn’t it?”
Maria knocked again. The house was silent.
“He was driving a different car, fancy Italian, my husband said it was an Alfa Romeo.”
“Was he alone?” Maria asked
“I think so, but there was a lot of noise in his house that night,” she lowered her eyes, “It came from his bedroom.”
“What sort of noise.”
The neighbor’s face turned bright red, “You know, bedroom noise. Not the sort of noise you wouldn’t expect to hear after a funeral. I never liked him. I saw him once, in a restaurant, a woman draped all over him. It wasn’t Jean! I have a key if you want to go inside. Jean gave it to me so I could water the plants when they were away. Sweet heart she was. Can’t understand why she’d take her own life.”

Maria waited while the nosy, but helpful neighbor to fetch the key. Something wasn’t right. It wouldn’t hurt to take a peek inside.
The smell hit them as soon as Maria opened the front door. Lou, the neighbor took a couple of steps back. “Oh my!”
“Stay here,” Maria hissed. She walked quickly through the clean, tidy house and then returned to the front door to get a mouthful of fresh air. Slowly she walked up the stairs. The first door on the landing stood ajar. Maria didn’t make it past the doorway.

The bedroom was warm and steamy, as though someone had just stepped out of the shower. The stench of decay was overwhelming. The naked corpse lay tied to the bed, eyes bulging in terror. Expensive jewelry adorned the dead man’s purple bruised neck. He’d been strangled.

Something moved in the bathroom. Did Maria hear a voice? Did someone moan in pleasure? Was that the sound of gentle laughter?

She fled downstairs, and called for backup.

Two spirits hovered in the bedroom for a little while, and faded into the atmosphere. Their work was done.

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Pop Tinkle Tinkle

12

It was dark a cold. Lynette quickened her pace. Central Park was quiet and deserted. A short cut home after a date gone wrong. Computer dating wasn’t such a good idea after all.
Pop, tinkle, tinkle!
She stopped dead in her tracks. Silence. Lynette walked as fast as her heels would allow. She’d have taken her shoes off if it weren’t so cold.
Pop, tinkle, tinkle….
She didn’t stop this time, but pulled her coat tightly around her and kept going. The night became even darker as the street light ahead of her exploded. It popped and then the bulb shattered on the ground.
It has to be the cold temperature making them explode!
She continued walking, trying to reach the lights ahead, but they too exploded before she got to them. Surrounded by darkness she stood still and held her breath.
Why is it so quiet? I’m in the middle of New York? What happened to the traffic?
FOOTSTEPS – FAST HEAVY FOOTSTEPS!
Oh GOD, please help me.
Lynette began to run, looking over her shoulder as she did so.
Leave me be, who ever you are, just leave me be.
Twisting her ankle, she hit the ground hard and squealed in pain. He cell phone slid across the icy path beyond her reach.
A monstrous black army boot stomped down on it. Lynette looked up slowly, terrified of what she would see. Long jean clad legs, a pair of gloved hands, wide shoulders, and then the face. Recognition! Her disastrous date had followed her….

Yup, this crazy old British gal is writing again. New book coming out soon, but in the meantime enjoy my short bursts. I have to get them out of my crowded brain. Check out my very cheap first book on Amazon. Never going to be a top seller, but I’ve been told its fun!

Dead of July

 

 

Lost Dog

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“Lacie, come on, Lacie. Here girl, where are you?”
Norah shouted in vain, there was no sign or sound of her puppy. She took out her cell phone.
“No signal, Damn”
Then she heard something, a slight rustling in the bushes ahead. “Lacie?”
A whimper.
“I’m coming!”
Nora ran forward, grazing her legs as she almost tripped over a tree stump. Then she stopped and listened.
Silence.
“Lacie?”
The moonlight cast a shadow, a long thin shadow. Thats not my dog!
Norah was nervous and prepared to turn and run, but the owner of the shadow appeared from behind a three. It was a young boy, he was hugging a small white dog close to his chest.
“Is this what you’re looking for?”
She ran forward and took the limp white bundle of fur into her arms, tears running down her cheeks. “Lacie, what happened?”
She buried her face in the familiar fuzzy mop of fur that was her beloved dog and smothered her with kisses. Lacie whimpered weakly, but didn’t move.
“What happened?” she asked the boy. There was no answer. When she looked up she was alone in the darkness.
“Come on pup, let’s get you home.”
Nora checked her cell phone again. She had a signal now and hit speed dial. After several rings she almost hung up, then she heard her husband’s voice. He sounded distant, distracted. Was someone there with him? No time to worry about that now.
“John, I’ve found Lacie, but she’s hurt.”
No response.
“John, did you hear me?”
The line went dead!

 

 

 

The Alien – Which Planet am I From?

Carlos sat up in his bed and stared out of the window into the darkness. Tears rolled down his cheeks! He was five years old andsky-at-night-1342446211_b a happy care-free child. Until today that is!

Carlos lived with is parents in Frisco, Colorado. His papa told him they’d moved to Colorado from Mexico City when he was a baby. He liked his home, and his friends, and looked forward to going to school with the big boys. Now he didn’t think it would ever happen. He’d learned a secret. A secret that meant at any time he may have to leave and never come back.

He slid off his big boy bed and went to the window. It was a cold, wet, cloudy night, his papa said snow was coming. Carlos stared into blackness above the earth and wondered where he really came from. Superman came from the sky too, but that was just a story.

Shivering, he got back into bed and pulled the covers tightly around him. Gently he patted his face and head, then ran his fingers over his body looking for some sign that he wasn’t human, but found nothing.

The words of the mean old lady in the doctors waiting room echoed in his head. He was terrified. As she pushed her way to the front of the line, his momma had to hold onto his him to stop him from falling over.

“Hey, be careful,” his momma said, “you nearly knocked over my son.”

The old woman didn’t care, but looked at them both and said.

“Get out of my way. I won’t stand in line behind an Alien.”

Carlos knew his momma wasn’t an alien, so the old lady must be talking about him. He was an alien? Did other people know he was from another planet too? His grandma, who lived with them, looked liked she could be an alien, but she hadn’t been with them in the doctor’s office.

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

The moon appeared from behind the clouds, lighting up the sky, shining into his room. Carlos hid under the covers, what if someone out there was looking for him, waiting to snatch him away!

Halloween – The Scent of a Woman

lakePenny lifted her head and sniffed the air! She stood up and growled, then whimpered. Jane closed the door and came back inside.”Hey, don’t worry, I’m not going anywhere without you. Penny stood rigid, staring at the closed-door.

“You want to go for a walk? Come on the, let’s get your leash, don’t want you to get lost do we?”

Usually when the W A L K word was mentioned Penny barked, excited to be outside. Today that word terrified her, she hid under the bed.

“OK, I guess that’s a no!”

Jane poured another glass of wine and walked to the window. The view was hypnotic. Maybe I should have become a painter, or photographer. She thought to herself. Tired and frustrated she sat in front of her computer again.

The lake was still and deep, she wrote, a single canoe was moored by a boat house. The night was silent. Somewhere, deep in the forest, evil waited. It wouldn’t have to wait long.  

The words began to flow, so engrossed was she in her writing that she never heard Penny’s pathetic whining as the dog cowered beneath the bed.

An hour passed before Jane came up for air. She’d written almost a full chapter. Yes, we have liftoff!

Pleased with herself, she stood up and stretched, her creative juices flowing. All is not lost!

“Penny come on, let’s get some fresh air, you need to pee.”

Penny whimpered and backed further under the bed. She could smell danger and wanted no part of it!

“Penny what’s wrong with you?” Jane asked as she grabbed a dog treat and crouched down to coax her companion from the shadows. Dogs can be smart at times, but not when there are treats involved. Penny scuttled forward, licking her lips in anticipation. As her mouth closed on the treat, Jane grabbed her.

“Gotcha!”

With Penny tightly secured under her arm, she headed to the front door. Penny wriggled and whimpered, but Jane held her tight.

“Look, nothing out here to be scared of, it’s a beautiful night.”

She placed the dog on the porch, “Now go do what you have to do, its cold.” Penny walked back inside and poured another glass of wine, pleased with herself. Her head was full of words and evil images. She was inspired.

The cold air worked on the dogs bladder. She ran down the porch steps and sniffed until she found a place to pee. She looked into the darkness with wide eyes. Something bad was lurking, she felt it. The scent was strong, Penny whimpered, but not for long.

A huge six-fingered hand grabbed her belly, a second-hand grabbed her head. She didn’t feel the teeth sink into her back. The quick twist of hands broke her neck in seconds.

When Jane walked back onto the porch she couldn’t see her dog, but she could hear her, or so she thought.

“Penny! Penny come on, its cold out here. Don’t stray. Where are you?”

Great, just when I’m inspired!

Grabbing a flashlight from the table by the door, she pointed the beam into the darkness, towards the sound.

“Penny!”

What she heard was the sort of sound Penny made when she ate wet dog food. Oh god, she’s found a dead animal.

“Penny, put it down! Penny! Oh my god!”

The strong beam rested on a horrendously disfigured face. A pair of huge deformed hands held the remains of her pet. Blood dripped from the creature’s chin. Penny’s blood!

The grin grew wider as it took another bite before dropping the remains to the ground. He looked at Jane and sniffed. She’s woken a different type of hunger inside him. One he hadn’t felt before!

The Game!

257_pokershuffle-940x626I slid out of the van into the cold dark night. My bravado had faded. I looked down at my high heeled boots and tugged on my ridiculously short skirt in an effort to cover up legs. Why didn’t I wear tight jeans? The effect would have been the same. Larry felt my hesitation. “Come on, you can do this. Too late to turn back now.”

“I know,” I replied, “I’m more worried about Jack than myself, I just feel awkward. I’m not used to dressing this way.”

Larry gave three sharp raps on the graffiti covered door. An eye appeared at the little peephole briefly, and then the door opened. A big guy let us in. He shook hands with Larry. It was one of those weird handshakes that I’m sure meant something. A secret handshake. A guy thing! “This your daughter Larry?”

Larry put his arm around me and said “Seriously, do you think I’d let my daughter go out dressed like this?”

I giggled and kissed his cheek.

“Didn’t think you had it in you old man, enjoy yourself.”

Larry took my hand and squeezed it as we walked a long a dimly lit passageway. Same process at the next door, three raps and then another guy let us in. No handshake this time. He brushed a little to close to me as I passed him by. I shivered! Not sure which made me more nervous, the implication or the cold metal that touched my thigh. I knew one thing for sure, I was going to stick to Larry like glue.

A poker table took up most of the small room. The game had not yet started, but a couple of men were already drinking, preparing for the game. On the far wall there was a small bar. A couple of girls in skirts shorter than mine sat there, well on their way to being drunk or stoned, or both. I didn’t blame them. I guessed what the night had in store for them.

Larry found a seat at the table. As he sat down he slapped me on the butt “Go get yourself a drink honey, I’m going to be busy for a while.” I wanted to slap his face, but it was all part of the act. I bent over and whispered in his ear suggestively “Don’t ever do that again.” No one heard but him, and he laughed and blew me a kiss.

I grabbed a beer from the ice box at the end of the bar and sat down with the two girls. They acknowledged me as I slid onto my stool, but didn’t show much interest in. Probably a good thing. Jack and two the nameless guys entered and took the last three seats at the table, making seven players.

“Okay guys, time to play poker.” This announcement was made by a wiry nerdy looking man who’d been sitting with his back to us when we entered. He looked like and accountant. Huge glasses, short black hair, plain pale face. “Keep the drinks flowing Petal.”

Right on cue the girl next to me slid off her bar stool and took an unopened bottle of whiskey to the table.

When she came back I leaned over to her and said “Hi Petal, I’m Sheila.”

She gave me a weak smile, nothing more.

The door behind me opened. I saw the reaction on Jack’s face and knew it must be Janie. He stood up quickly, almost tipping his chair.

Oh dear god  please don’t give the game away. 

Larry stood up too!

Shit, this isn’t good!

“You OK Pal?” the accountant asked?

You could have heard a pin drop!

“Looking for the bathroom old man?” Larry asked.

Jack recovered quickly. “Yes, don’t want to get up after the game’s started, don’t trust you guys.”

“Through the door at the back, turn right” Larry said as he sat down again.

Janie looked into my eyes briefly and then looked away. Make up barely covered her bruises. Her clothes barely covered her body. The look of fear in her eyes was raw and real. She crossed the room and sat on a chair by the door.

“Meet Rosie, she’s here to please the winner.” the skinny guy said. He leaned back and touched her leg, sliding his hand way too high on her inner thigh. “Rosie is a little wild, but after a few pills she’s a real sweetie. Show us your breasts honey.”

Rosie didn’t move.

“Come on lets play,” Jack said, “I have no time for women.”

“What, you gay old man?”

“No, just want to take your money.”

The game began, Janie looked at me across the room. There was no hope in her eyes, only fear.

 

 

 

Am I Alive or am I Dead? Where am I?

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Speeding through the darkness.

I see no one!

My body tingles with excitement.

Out of control!

Help!

A hand lightly touches my thigh. A cold hand.

Shivering, shaking, freezing.

Leaning forward I smell leather.

Someone pulls my hair?

Digs nails into my neck?

Screeching in my ear.

Who’s there?

Leave me alone.

I’m cold!

So very cold.

Getting colder.

Where am I?

Am I still alive?

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.

“Mel?”

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

 

 

The Restless Dead

bigstock-beautiful-woman-with-stone-lik-12160685Lindsay and Michael walked along a back lane to the banks of the river Swale. Other than the sound of birds chattering, it was peaceful, almost like being on another planet. The fire and it’s aftermath still tormented Lindsay’s brain, but the surroundings were soothing. Neither of them spoke as they walked along the well-worn track by the river.

“There’s a clearing up ahead with some big rocks we can sit on, the river is shallower there so if this is a ploy to drown me, you’d struggle.” Lindsay said.

“Why on earth would I drown you?” Michael asked.

“I don’t know. Why are you here?”

They continued in silence until they found the clearing, and found a couple of boulders to sit on. Michael made pebbles skip across the glassy surface. It irritated Lindsay. She was on edge and wanted to know why he kept following her.

“We’re not here to play, what is it you want with me? And who the hell is Colleen? I can’t believe I’m even asking. I must be losing my mind. If it’s not bad enough seeing images of my dead friend, now I’m seeing the ghost of some Irish woman I’ve never met. Is this your doing?”

Lindsay began to cry again, a sad hopeless sound. Michael said nothing until her sobs subsided. He knew she wouldn’t listen. They didn’t know they were being watched. Eventually Lindsay stopped crying.

“Sorry! Sorry for everything. You wouldn’t be able to see any of this if you weren’t tuned in to that sort of thing. I’m not making you see anything. I’d give anything to turn back the clock and not have you suffer like this. I can’t! I’m just trying to help.”

“What are you trying to help with? Do you know who started the fire? Do you know who killed my friends? If you do, why are you talking to me instead of the police?”

“It’s not that simple.”

“Nothing ever is with you bloody Irish. You try to blame religion for all of your hatred, but I don’t believe any of it. I thought God was about love not hate.”

Michael dropped his head into his hands and sighed.

“This has nothing to do with religion, or the IRA. It’s about me brother John. Colleen was his wife. She’s dead!”

“I’m sorry, how does that tie up with this….”

There was a loud splash in the water at the other side of the river. Michael jumped to his feet.

“Come on, we have to go.”

“Why it was just a fish jumping?” Lindsay stood up and looked into the water. Two reflections looked back at her. The head of a beautiful, but pale woman peered over her shoulder. Lindsay almost fell as she twisted around to see who was behind her. Michael was the only person there. She looked across the river to see the shape of a man disappearing among the trees. Michael grabbed her hand urgently. “Come on, we have to go now.” He said urgently.

Michael, Michael, where’s my Johnny boy. Why can’t I see him?

Dead of July Another book by Sandra Thompson. Buy it on Amazon.

Dead of July by Sandra Thompson