Horror photos
For the sake of my sanity, I need to tell this story as it happened: hour-by-hour, but to put you in the picture, here’s a little of the background which led to the dreadful chain of events. On Thursday and…
Fractured images
My name is Katherine, though mother called me Katie, which I disliked. I am soon to be twelve years old and this is my first diary entry. The date is June the twentieth in the year of our Lord 1899…
The Monk’s Cowl
(This short story popped into my head when Suzanne, landlady of the Bay Horse showed some members of the writing group the exact location of a priest’s hole, and I thought, what if…?) Amongst the clientele of the Bay Horse…
The Village
Such a lovely village, with its stream, thatched and ancient stone cottages, village green, pub, and just enough shops and cafes to cater for locals and visitors alike. The main road diverts the bulk of the traffic, leaving the heart…
Vamps
Jake’s seniors had warned that they came in threes but he knew better than to rely on urban myths. He preferred to deal with facts. So he spruced up and set off into the part of town where vamps were…
Mistaken Identities
Kelle didn’t scare easily. Brought up on a rough council estate in Leeds, she’d fought her way through school taking instruction from her elder brother who’d taught her how to handle herself. Here in Whitby for a week with her…
Femme Fatale
Femme Fatale When Pamela stepped off the bus she to fathom the different scenes before her. Where she stood the sky was bright with the low winter sun almost blinding her: yet across the road along Market Place, a thick…
The Garden Seat
A few dwellings still nestle below Pickering castle and in one of these cottages lived a young girl with her widowed mother. To make ends meet she was expected to do a most dreadful thing. This is her story. Lizzie…
Breathless
Zoe ended her call. She shivered and gave the street another quick glance. Her eyes rested on something dark – a crow, she thought, that crept along the ridge of a cottage roof. Her breath hung in the cold air…
Lupine
His ears prick up and rouse him from his sleep. She is singing. The last survivor of the clever ones surmises she is alone. The tip of his nose moves from side to side – sensing the air, collecting information as to how…