A COLLECTION OF DELICIOUSLY DARK & TWISTED TALES TO GET YOU READY FOR HALLOWEEN
I set the table for you, come sit.
I hope you enjoy my humble fare, a selection of only the darkest of delights. But make sure and pull your chair in closer to the hearth for the night falls and the wind blows wild, muffling the sound of approaching footsteps. Something comes, something creeps ever closer. A nightmare thing.
Enter a dark place between fact and fiction.
On a cold winter’s night whilst crossing the frost covered field to fetch water, a child hears a sound on the air, an infant’s cry. But no baby awaits her hurried progress.
A pensioner rapidly losing her memory exists in a twilight world where only a lost love can bridge the gap between past and present.
A young man at a boutique music festival discovers more than romance in the fading forest.
Something travels the cosmos, a creature of nightmare and terror. A veiled medium sits at a table in a Victorian parlour waiting.
Amongst the lamb, a wolf harvests souls in a bid for promotion.
Readers speak!
Ohhh this was a brilliant collection of ‘scary stories ‘ each of them brilliantly written , a perfect book to read , especially in October when it is the month for the ghouls, ghosts and mischief!!
From the first story ‘Always’ to the last ‘untitled ‘ you will be hooked , there will be moments where you get goosebumps or chills as you read it especially if your imagination runs wild with visualisations when you read like mine! Each story brings something different, I love the fact it is a collection of stories in a bite size chunk (no pun intended!) , as it means you get a story each day until the book ends .
If you are a fan of horror , ghosts stories then I would definitely recommend this book to you, I absolutely loved reading them , gripping onto my kindle desperate for more of the stories. A truly fantastic author!‘
‘What happens when an author takes your worst nightmares, your childhood fears and puts them in a book? You get to relive them. Can I sue the author for giving me insomnia?? A great collection and a must for all horror/paranormal fans. More, please.’
Excerpt from The Game, The Nightmare.
One summer’s afternoon, he was walking along the main road that led out of the village, his mother was visiting relatives and he was bored. The road was peaceful and so, he sat down on the grass and waited. He let a couple of cars pass, waiting for just the right one. The road curved as it left the village and after the bend, there was a long straight, which allowed Mark to see any vehicles a good few minutes before they reached him. He was nodding off in the heavy August heat when a flash of colour attracted his attention. A large red juggernaut came around the bend, his favourite colour. Seeing as it was coming near the end of his holidays, Mark decided it was time to end with a bang, to up the ante. He decided on his start point and made an old chestnut tree, a decent two hundred yards away, his destination. He checked around to make sure that his audience were only the birds and the creatures in the surrounding fields before he chanted aloud – “This is the game, the only game. I must reach the great horse chestnut tree before the red juggernaut passes me. Because this is my last game there is no safety clause. If I fail, I lose the game and I sell my soul to the devil.” It made it more official when he said the words. There would be no more racing and near heart attacks. This was it. The last big challenge. And this was the clincher, this added the excitement, the daring – with no safety net, no get-out clause, he won, or his soul was forfeit which meant that he must run the hell out of himself, for the last time.
The thirteen-year-old boy waited in position, his head facing the large horse chestnut tree, a solid point on the horizon. This was completely achievable, he was ready and rearing to go, and after a few seconds he took off. His feet barely touched the pavement, his fists were clenched and his face tight with concentration. He never turned but he could hear the truck’s engine as it powered along the road. The large tree was getting closer and closer, he focused on its broad trunk. Panting hard, he found an extra spurt of energy and went full-out. The tree was so close that he could nearly touch the large finger-like leaves. He was going to make it. He was going to make it. A personal best for Mark Randall, gambler of souls extraordinaire. What a way to go out!
But the driver of the red articulated truck had other ideas, he revved up his engine and the vehicle passed the gangly, red-faced boy with a sharp blast of the horn. It was over, the truck faded to a red blur in the distance.
Cursing, Mark slowed down and limped the last few yards to the horse chestnut tree. A man stood there, a tanned hand resting on the rough bark. Mark stopped in his tracks recognising the grey-haired man who had saved his life six months previously. He was dressed in an identical charcoal suit. His Italian shoes, still as shiny as if they had just been taken from the box.
“You lost,” he said to the boy, his foreign accent like dripping treacle. “And so, you have to come with me.”
The boy started, he wiped the sweat off his brow with his arm. “It’s only a game,” he said.
“It’s the most important of all games,” answered the grey-haired man, his words loud against the silence of the road. For no birds sang or circled overhead. No cars travelled the road. The sky darkened, and the summer’s afternoon fell away. In its place was a bleak landscape of sharp hills, ragged against tall towers. Mark felt himself unable to move, he was melting. His running shoes were blistering against the heat that radiated from the man who towered over him.
“But you saved me,” he sobbed.
The grey-haired man smiled with a mouth of pointed teeth.
“You tripped, it just wasn’t very sportsman-like of me to allow it, don’t you see Mark? I’ve been watching all your little games with interest. But this one was the best of all. And now, you’re mine.”
And Mark watched as the grey-haired man’s skin changed from the tan of the wealthy businessman to red, boiled red like the earth beneath his feet. Red like the long, muscled legs that ended in talons. Red like the wings that unfurled and flapped behind his back, eager to be off. Reptilian wings of sinew and bone.
Mark squealed and wriggled as the thing that was the grey-haired man took his hand and pulled him down into the pit that opened beneath them.
Thus, ended the life of Mark Randall. For someone must pay the price in the end and there is always a consequence to every action. In time, once his lesson is learned he may return to ensure that the game is played out to completion and watch and wait for any boy or girl who tries to stretch the rules because rules are not made to be broken and the game is eternal.
About the author – F. B. Hogan
F. B. Hogan is a writer, blogger and poet living in the midlands of Ireland. She masquerades as a sensible adult and mother to five children and two cats, but lives and breathes purely for horror.
The Nightmare was published by Spellbound Books Ltd. in October 2021 and is a collection of contemporary and gothic horror.
Aside from horror, Fiona writes in a mix of genres under the name Fiona Cooke. You can find her collection of humorous and supernatural tales – The Lights Went Out and Other Stories on Amazon, along with What Happened in Dingle, a romantic comedy novella set in Kerry, Ireland
Martha’s Cottage, a contemporary love story set in Dublin was released by Spellbound Books on 28th September.
You can glimpse the strange meanderings of her thoughts at unusual fiction where she scribbles about nature, her work, and anything that amuses and inspires.
She dreams of one day playing a zombie in a low budget feature.
