Category: Capricorn

Capricorn – Little Horror (ep. 61)

He slams his fists on the door.

“Let me out ya’ wankers!” he screams.

The bulb swings gently above his head. His shadow shifts.

“At least gimme a room with a window!” he yells, giving the door a final bang.

The door gently opens into the cell. He steps back blinking back the tears. He breaks down, slamming his fist on the wall built behind the doorway.

~~~

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Capricorn (ep. 64)

She pressed the gun against his forehead and fired again. She had to be sure. She stood crying, sinking into the jacket she wore. It was his. It still had the smell of coconut hair pomade on the collar. She pressed the gun into the roof of her mouth. She took her eyes off the bite marks on his shoulder and arm. The boat tipped, rotten, bloated hands emerging from the water. A last shot.

~~~

Raaaawr! Zombies and boats! Oh hey, if death out at sea by giant intelligent sharks is your thing, Layne, Alex and I will be Twittering Deep Blue Sea this Saturday at 9 pm UK time. Fancy joining us? Grab a copy on your fave streaming service and hit us up on Twatter.

Alex @SynBoomstick 
Layne @Chew_On_Glass 
Peter @TheLittleFears

~~~

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He woke up. He was moving down. He banged his fists on the roof.

“Damn you!” he screamed. “Damn you!”

He fumbled in his pocket, found a matchbox, flicked out a match and struck it.

His vision blurred. He drew what air he could into his lungs.

Above him, in red felt-tip pen. ‘Tight arse couldn’t buy me a fancy coffin’.

Then sleep.

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He walked past the graffiti-laden walls, 36 steps, turn left, 42 steps, right wall.

Someone had stolen the bench. He felt the wall and floor. Click. The wall slid to the right. The dust drifted upwards on the disturbed air.

Nobody had found this room. It must have been 20 years. The door marked by them clawing from the inside. He could hear their screams. He could smell their fear. He would never forget. How could he?

Now they’d led him back here. The door closed quietly behind him.

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The train rocked. She woke.

“Look at me,” came a voice from the other end of the carriage. A lone passenger, watching her.

She avoided his gaze and stared out the window. She couldn’t place where the train was. Too dark outside.

“Look at me,” he said.

He was close, two seats up the carriage, moving towards her. She peered back out the window.

“Look at me,” he said, sitting next to her. She did.

Denver never did find her eyes.

I do like train related horror… Maybe too many years commuting on London Transport…  A couple more review thanks and shout outs for Seeking Hydra.

NotDonner of Dogtown blog post review
Layne of Chewing on Glass on Amazon

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Doris, 84, shocked to death by an electric blanket. She’d come in with black marks and burns across her face and body. Presumably, day shift had made her passingly presentable.

She didn’t notice the blood under the counter. Or the grin forming on Doris’ face.

She noticed a rustle when Doris sat up, but by then it was too late.

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