The Strange Inheritance – Part Seven – A Multiple Word Prompt Story

I have been writing this creepy horror story for a while now and I hope to write the final part in time for Halloween. This is the next bit.

If you’d like to start reading it from the beginning, here is the first bit:

https://talesfromthemindofkristian.wordpress.com/2018/09/01/multiple-word-prompt-story-the-strange-inheritance/

This story contains the following word prompts:

https://wordofthedaychallenge.wordpress.com/2020/10/23/creep/

https://wordofthedaychallenge.wordpress.com/2018/10/20/granite/

https://ragtagcommunity.wordpress.com/2018/10/20/rdp-saturday-fabulist/

https://onedailyprompt.wordpress.com/2018/10/20/your-daily-word-prompt-cackle-october-20-2018/

FOWC with Fandango — Fierce

https://swimmersweek.wordpress.com/2018/10/20/elves/

Jennifer had forgotten that tonight was Halloween until Mrs Ponsomby had mentioned it. For some reason, it gave her quite a jolt, sending a shiver that she felt gradually creep down her spine. The already grim atmosphere in the house seemed to increase. Despite the fact that it was still daylight outside, she got up and turned on the lamp on a nearby table.

The additional light made her feel fractionally better. The bulb flickered and buzzed in its old-fashioned leather lampshade. moth-eaten gold tassels hung around the edge, in keeping with the general shabbiness. Most of the books lining the shelves showed the damage of the years. A damp patch on the ceiling threatened further damage to come, and this was one of the better rooms in the dilapidated old ruinous house. The sooner they tore it down the better, as far as she was concerned.

“Well, just one more night and then the money will all be ours,” she said to herself. She wasn’t by nature a particularly money oriented person but having endured one night in this godforsaken place with another one to come, she felt she’d earned it fair and square.

Continue reading The Strange Inheritance – Part Seven – A Multiple Word Prompt Story

Tell the Story Challenge – Reaching Out – A macabre poem.

I’ve been tagged in a Tell the Story Challenge by my Pal, Rory, A Guy Called Bloke, click on the link to his post:

Tell The Story Challenge – Don’t Look …

 

He has given me this picture and asked me to write a story or poem: Well here goes.

ju

 

Looking down from the gallery

At the very top of the stairs,

I catch a glimpse of Cousin Valerie,

Sneaking up on me, unawares.

I was shocked to see her standing there,

Shocked and stunned, it has to be said,

Because it was like some dark nightmare,

Cousin Valerie was very dead.

Yet here she was reaching out to me,

A feverish look in her pale blue eyes

Eyes that were glassy and could not see,

Yet full of hateful malice and unsaid why’s.

I didn’t cry or shed one tear,

I didn’t try to run away,

I stood my ground without a fear,

I’d killed her already once, that day.

 

https://wordofthedaychallenge.wordpress.com/2019/10/02/gallery/

 

Here is a picture of Berry Pomeroy castle ruins (one of the most haunted places in Britain, apparently)

IMG_4205

If you want to write something inspires by this picture, please be my guest. 🙂

 

Free Again – My Attempt at a Horror Story.

My Friend at Fingers to Sky is taking part in a challenge competition and has thrown out the gauntlet for people to play along with her Prompt.

Genre: Horror

Location: Hill

Object: A Map.

NYC Midnight Challenge: Prompt 1

 

Well this was my attempt. Like my friend says about herself, I am not at all familiar with the genre. I never read horror books and I never watch horror films. I am scared stiff of them. I am therefore not a very good judge on whether this story I have written actually meets the requirements of being a Horror Story. Please let me know if you think it works.

 

Free Again

I found the map among my Aunts things. Mad Aunt Alice, she’d been cruelly called by my Father. Growing up it had just been my Father, Aunt Alice and me. Aunt Alice had looked after me tenderly, but she never spoke. My Father would order her about, shout at her and even hit her, but she never spoke.

My father always called her Mad. Said that she wasn’t ‘all there’. She’d been like that since a childhood game with an Ouija board had gone wrong. The Devil’s got her tongue and he won’t give it back. That was what my Father said. I never paid no mind to what he said though. He was drunk most of the time. Aunt Alice was always kind to me. She made me dinner and breakfast. Washed my clothes and made sure I went to school. Father went to work then came home and drank. His exercise usually involved smashing something or punching Aunt Alice. She never said a word.

Then one day Father grabbed me by the skirt and pulled me towards him. I screamed at him to let me go. Before I knew it, the Knife had appeared in Aunt Alice’s hand and my father’s head had rolled across the floor. I will never forget his eyes. They put Aunt Alice into one kind of institution and me into another.

Continue reading Free Again – My Attempt at a Horror Story.