Category: Capricorn

She just stood there. Watching her.

The door handle was hot enough to melt her skin. Her right hand useless. Her left hand wrapped in a t-shirt. Better luck this time.

Almost blinded by smoke, she could still see her. She ran down the stairs, the heat singeing her hair. Her tear ducts couldn’t function. Her eyes were dry. She reached the front door.

She stood watching from the top of the stairs.

She was outside, coughing, lungs filled with smoke. She felt dizzy. There she was. Standing over her.

In lieu of Hydra story because they’ll be Monday to Friday this coming week, a Sunday afternoon horror story.

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He held the magnifying glass above the ant. Every time it started to burn, it managed to get out from the focus of the heat.

“Try pinchin’ it’s legs off,” said James.

He reached down, gently holding the ant under his thumb, and sheared each leg off with his nail.

Once immobile, the lens came back out, the ant began burning again.

Funny the things you remember when somebody has drugged you and left you paralysed under a glass roof on the hottest day of the year.

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He stood on the ledge. A wave of dizziness washed over him. He did a 2-step stagger, but remained upright.

“Once it’s done,” said Jake, “I get my old life back?”

“Of course,” said Lucy.

He looked at the concrete below. Closing his eyes, he took his last step.

Lucy looked over the ledge at the red stain.

“Should have specified which old life you wanted back,” grinned Lucy.

Another one of the original six horror stories I wrote. It found its way into my second book, the horror anthology, Capricorn.

USA Editions: http://amzn.to/2frKA6e
UK Editions: http://amzn.to/2y6t8v0

Cheers!

 

She ran onto the escalator, looking down behind her. It stopped at the bottom of the stairs, watching her.

Its short body, awkward arms and legs. It watched her as she rode upwards, to the street, to freedom. It sniffed the air, closing its clear white eyes. She was convinced they could smell her blood. They’d roared into a frenzy when she’d cut her leg running up the tracks.

Nearly there. She looked ahead again and ran up the last few metal steps.

“Sorry,” said the ticket attendant at the top. “They need feeding.”

Another one of the original six horror stories I wrote. It found its way into my second book, the horror anthology, Capricorn.

The image for this story was lost during that god damned, infernal pissing WordPress 5.0 update disaster.

USA Editions: http://amzn.to/2frKA6e
UK Editions: http://amzn.to/2y6t8v0

Cheers!

“Kill her,” flashed the terminal.

Kathy looked behind. There was a woman using a terminal on the other side of the room. Quite tall, but delicate looking. Slender arms and legs. Her thin dress seemed to hang off her bones. Easy mark.

Kathy turned back to the terminal. “Kill her.”

A shadow loomed up behind her, a slender arm bought a hammer down upon the back of Kathy’s head.

“As you ask,” said the slender woman to her terminal.

One of the first 6 horror stories I wrote for the Fears. Also published in our horror anthology, Capricorn. It would make a fab Christmas present for someone who likes horror stories. Plays jingle bell music in November. Too soon?

USA Editions: http://amzn.to/2frKA6e
UK Editions: http://amzn.to/2y6t8v0

Cheers!

The image for this story was lost during that god damned, infernal pissing WordPress 5.0 update disaster. 

Crouched between two skips, she heard people talking in the street outside the alleyway. She was so close to the lights of the main road.

Footsteps getting closer, she knew she’d no time left. Her mind made up, she burst out from between the bins and sprinted as fast as she could towards the street.

It was faster.

 

Malcolm wondered how these cases came about. He knew this was going to stick with him.

The young boy drifted in and out of sleep.

Malcolm’s hand brushed over the model aeroplanes hanging from the roof.

The boy stirred.

Malcolm pulled his hammer out of his belt.

The boy smiled up at Malcolm. Malcolm smiled back

Maybe it was better if the boy didn’t live. At least he wouldn’t have to witness the horrors to come.

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The doorknob clicked.

He held his breath, clenching his fingers around his son’s mouth.

Don’t make a sound.

Clickety click.

Those strange footsteps. They sounded distant. From their place under the bed, he couldn’t see any feet or legs.

Clickety click.

That was close. Where was she?

A clawed hand ripped down through the bed from above. He screamed. His son was already dead.

A Little Friday horror for you. I think I’m finally getting better at delivering the horror stories over audio. Finally… 🙂